All of the Stars

Spring was wholeheartedly my favorite season. Shocking, I know. The first-world, defined "goth" kid enjoyed spring over any other time of year, I don't know if that's considered a figurative or a real life oxymoron.
Spring was a season of rebirth, fresh beginnings, the kinds of things I wished I had a chance at. Color schemes were the main reason why I found myself so infatuated, they caught my full attention. In my head, colors were the only thing that kept me the least bit happy. Imagining a world without color scared me to complete death, nothing horrified me more.
I tried to find color in everything, a scheme at the most. To cope with my boredom I decided against my bitter self-deprecating conflict to find a scheme more often. It would benefit my art at the most. Maybe even my attitude. The few days I walked to school I'd tried to find it in the flowers. I took a mental note of lavender and coral on each walk so I could somehow round up the time to commit to painting the flowers. I liked the colors of them. They were calming. They were soft on the eyes.
Soft on the eyes.
I didn't think many things were. Maybe I needed to look for that more often than not, as well.
Speaking of things that were soft, musical theater was in fact, not soft on me at all. It was a strange kind of thing, to be fair. Three classes had gone past already without very much initial excitement. Mr. Iero had been rambling on about musical theory no matter how much the others protested as they insisted they were complete know-it-alls. Me, on the other hand, I didn't mind. Mr. Iero was passionate about it, you could see the glint in his eye went he taught. He had the aura of someone who had the most heartwarming moment of their life. I thought that was somehow beautiful. He's invested in his profession and there's nothing wrong with that.
I knew he stared at me a lot. Patrick had pointed that out a few times. I didn't care. A teacher stared at me? It hasn't been the first time. Patrick had tried to convince me otherwise, although. He referred to it as a "Menacingly-child-predative stare." That statement only added to the many infamous rumors based around Mr. Iero. So many that were similar had drifted throughout Belleville High, between accusations of him shooting heroine in the gym bathrooms to him being a homosexual child molester.
I, being the antisocial nonchalant kid, didn't believe them at all. Teenagers do anything to get a laugh, some attention, some trouble. I wasn't about any of that. And if he did shoot up heroine, what's the issue with that? In my fucked up head, I though that he should've been able to do what he pleased as long as it wasn't affecting me or anyone else but himself.
I wished I had choked on my words then. Sometimes giving people the power to do what they want can lead to situations that fuck over all your emotions. That's an understatement. It can lead to situations that stomp on your emotions, vomit them up, throw them in a sewer, then spit right on top of the already prominent damage. Hate to say it, but that's the direction that my life was headed.
I should've have known what was going on the day Mr. Iero had called me out in his class. I was doing what I usually did, one earbud shoved in my ear while I pretended to listen with the other, living inside the deep depths of my head.
I hadn't changed my seat since the first class unlike everyone else who sat somewhere different everyday. I didn't like change. He was talking to us, all ten of us, telling us how he wanted to see what we brought to the table. Great.
I shifted in my seat. He hadn't looked at me at all throughout the class so far. I felt like I didn't exist. I was used to that. I had made peace with it.
"I know it's short notice, but a lot of things in life are short notice." He spoke, his voice deep and scratchy. He pulled at the sleeve of his navy-blue sweater, "It would just be nice if this class would redeem itself, get the recognition it used to have when I first started teaching."
He looked over at me. "I want some of you guys to come out of your shell." And with that sentence, he had reeled me in. Not in a good way either. He basically full on directed me in front of nine other people. I heard someone scoff at his arrogant gesture toward me.
Mr. Iero combed his fingers through his mocha hair a few times, "Listen, I'm not gonna be mean and make you get up in front of everybody and do your thing if you don't want to. That's your choice, I'll take you behind the stage curtain, Hell, I'll even close my eyes if you want if it'll get you twerps to do something productive."
He was talking straight to me. He knew I wasn't going to do anything. In the four classes we had shared together he'd already gotten a gist of how stubborn and ignorant I could be. I ignored his questions, didn't return eye contact. It was frustrating him and I was starting to make a game out of it. I felt like he knew I was putting on that as a charade of pure spite.
I wanted to give him a kind of shock factor. A kind of shock that happens in a cliche chick-flick, just so I could push his buttons more than I already was. I could raise my hand and volunteer to get up on his fucking stage and sing my heart out. I didn't think that was actually a bad idea.
He clapped his hands together, he did that quite often. And scanned his eyes over all of our faces, "Anyone up for grabs to go first?"
In that split second I felt my body disconnect with my brain as my hand decided to raise itself in the air. I giggled internally as I heard someone mutter a "What the fuck?"
All eyes were on me. I could almost laugh at the confusion plastered across everyone's faces. Everyone's except Mr. Iero's. His face was neutral. The slightest hint of a smile began to tear across his pale toned face. "Wonderful. Curtain, I'm guessing?"
I was in deepshit enough by volunteering so I just nodded. I was in shock of my own actions.
I didn't feel like I was one with my body as I stood out of my seat and carefully took my steps. I trekked up the stairs of the stage, cringing at the amount of eyes that were glued to me. This was completely out of my domain. I followed Mr. Iero to the near back of the stage to where the big, dark purple satin curtain hung from the ceiling. It was isolated and far from everyone else was,I could barely hear their loud conversations from where it was.
I stood there stiffly, Mr. Iero standing face to face with me. There was maybe one foot distance between us which wasn't too close, but probably too close for someone to stand from their student. We looked at each other for a moment, hesitating to speak.
"Say something." I said more loudly than I had intended.
"I know you're going to sing." He replied. I studied his face, he looked completely relaxed and content with himself. I nodded.
"You're nervous." He stated.
"Yes."
"You don't need to be."
"Uh, why?"
"Because I'm not here to judge you."
"Everyone else is."
"They can't hear you at the moment, let alone see you."
That was the problem. I was more nervous standing in front of him alone.
"This was a bad idea." I sighed. I shifted my legs barely.
"No, it wasn't." He said. "This shows that you have some confidence in you."
I shook my head, "This is weird."
"Why?"
"I'm standing here and having a full conversation with you behind a curtain."
"Okay, and?"
"You're my teacher. I've only spoken to you once. How do I do this type of crap in front of someone who's twenty years older than me and barely an aquintance?" I retorted.
"Do I actually look twenty years older?" He asked. He was shocked.
I shrugged. "That's off topic." I'd be lying if I said there wasn't an uneasy but somehow warm feeling deep in my stomach. He was making deep eye contact with me when I spoke which is probably a common thing for any normal human being.
"Think of something...stress relieving." He told me, gently in a way.
"Why?"
"Because it'll make this whole ordeal a lot easier so I can't do my job."
Color schemes. I thought of that. I look around for one before I realized there was one in front of me this whole time. Mr. Iero's eyes. "Okay." I looked through his thick eyelashes, thinking of a song to muster out as I observed his eyes.
Amber.
Green.
Yellow specks.
I simplified the colors out.
Russet.
Jade.
Deep gold specks.
Mr. Iero caught wind of what I was doing but he was respectful and didn't say anything for awhile, he let me gain my calm.
He spoke softly "What do you think you're gonna sing? Are you sure you're ready? I can call someone else-"
"I'm fine." I interrupted. "Miss Misery."
He raised an eyebrow. "An Elliott Smith song, huh?"
I just nodded. He patted my shoulder. "Whenever you're ready Gerard, there's no pressure."
"Don't laugh at me please." I blurted out.
"I'm not going to laugh at you. Why do you think that?"
I sighed. "Dunno."
He slowly took and step back and gave me some more well needed space. He smiled at me softly, and for the first time, I smiled back at him. There was something about smiling back at him that made me feel a lot better about myself. I could feel my face flush and my body pump itself with adrenaline.
Words did eventually dance their way out of my mouth, and they flowed out way better than I had expected them to. I don't quite know how to explain what I felt in that exact moment, maybe like I was high, maybe like I was falling, maybe somewhere in between the two. Mr. Iero's facial expression definitely changed as I sang, going from a look of natruality to "holy shit."
I felt some kind of switch go off in my brain. A switch telling me that this was meant to be as I kept letting that song escape through my lips.
There was a long, empty silence between Mr. Iero and I after I finished. I knew he was thinking but the expression on his face was quite unclear.
"Gerard," He said eventually.
I looked up at him, he was standing closer now. I wasn't uncomfortable, but pretty much anyone else would've been in this type of situation.
"I don't have words to describe what you just did." He said.
"I don't either." I mumbled.
"I'm astonished."
"What?"
"Your voice is different."
"Oh."
"It's a good different. I dig it."
If anyone had decided to pull back the curtain at that exact moment, I'd have to explain to them why my face was at least six inches away from my teacher's. I'd have to explain why my face had decided to go completely red. I'd have to explain why my hands were trembling at the thought of him being this close to me. I wasn't disgusted by it, and deep down, I didn't want him to move away from me. We just stared at each other as I moved my lips, trying to form words that wouldn't come out.
"You don't have to say anything. Just take your compliment." He told me and stepped back. I saw his cheeks go a cherry red color. "I'm sorry for invading your space. That was inappropriate."
"It's...it's fine." I muttered.
He scratched the back of his neck. "I wanna give you vocal lessons."
"Okay?"
"Are you accepting?"
"I mean...I guess. It depends."
"Listen, you have...you have a remarkable voice, okay? I can't explain it. I've seen so many kids walk in and out of this auditorium in the six years that I've been teaching and none of their voices have been so...unique." Mr. Iero rambled on. "What you just did there, the way you sang an Elliott Smith song with so much...character. That kind of thing can get you on Broadway, Gerard."
"I...I don't want to be on Broadway." I answered sheepishly.
He huffed. "I never said you had to. But you could go somewhere with you voice, you understand that? Yeah, you're a little shaky and you need to project out more but, Jesus, you've got something kid."
To say I was confused, that was just the tip of the iceberg. A tip of a very large, menacing iceberg to be exact. If I was actually as good as he said I was then I could be set for life, I could drop everything, become a fucking musician like he was implying I should do. But that would hurt me, I couldn't drop my art like that. I was going to do this then I'd need a way to find time for both.
"I'll take your vocal lessons." I told him.
He bowed his head at me, his green eyes glistening in the dim light that illuminated the area we were standing in. He gave me one last look. "Fridays and Tuesdays after school."
"Alright."
"Oh, and Gerard?" He called briskly as he began walking from behind the curtain, his back to me. "Stop tempting me, I can't lose this job."

Notes

yikes it took me 4 damn days to update !! sorry to all 5 of you!! this is a very uneventful chapter but I promise you some frerard shits gonna go down in the next one !! (if theirs any mistakes in this then pardon me im very tired and im going to edit later if needed) xx