Chapter 3

Nick arrived home that night feeling like shit. He had to admit, it was the worst first day ever. It probably couldn't have gone any worse that that. He closed the front door behind him with a loud sigh.

"Mom I'm home now," he lazily called into the house.

"Mmm."

Nick walked into the living room to find his mother in her chair watching T.V. She didn't seem to have the time of day to even look at Nick even though all she do is sit at home all day.

"Hey, Mom?"

"What." she replied bluntly.

"I'm just gonna go to my room for a bit."

"Nick you're kidding right?" His mother growled finally turning to him with fury on her face, "You have a responsibility and you know it. Now get in there and play!"

"Yes, Mom," Nick said with sadness in his voice. Nick wandered into the room he hated the most. It smelled of dust and old forgotten scores that were scattered everywhere, littering the room. Nick sat down on the bench and looked at the stand to see the piece has been learning for the past week or so.

Fantasie Impromtu, composed by Chopin. A very famous piece. He hated it. He hated all of it. He hated every single piece his mother shoved down his throat by force. Nick clenched his fist and released them as he brought his hands to the keys he so despises. The anger surged through him as his fingers touched the cold ivory. In a flurry of furry, he began.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT SHIT!?" His mother burst through the door on her wheelchair, strained and wrinkled face full or anger.

Nick stopped instantly to look at his mother with furrowed brows.

"WELL! EXPLAIN YOURSELF! WHY WOULD YOU PLAY THIS PIECE IN SUCH A TERRIBLE WAY, HAH?! ITS SHAMEFUL! DISGRACEFUL!" Nick's mother screamed at him sitting on the bench, clenching his fists.

"I HATE IT! IT'S A TERRIBLE PIECE AND I HATE IT! IF YOU LIKE IT, THEN YOU PLAY IT YOURSELF!" Nathan lost his cool and stormed out of the room towards his, his mother trying catch up. He locked himself in his room and leaned his back against the door where he felt the vibration of the door from his mother banging on the door.

"GET OUT HER YOU PIECE OF SHIT! YOU NEED TO PRACTICE!"

Nick ignored her screams until she gave up and returned to the T.V. Nick fell into his bed. He lay there for a minute gathering himself until he decided to pull his phone out of his pocket. There were 50 new messages on Instagram. After today, it didn't surprise him. He scrolled through all of the hate messages until he found what he was looking for.

Anonymous: Hey!

Nick: hi

Anonymous: How was your day? Actually, I think I know the answer so...

Nick: Yea... Well, It's better now that I'm messaging you :)

Anonymous: You know what? Same here!

Nick: haha don't flatter me lol

Anonymous: It's true! ;)

Nick: So, who are you?

Anonymous: That's for me to know and for you to find out hehe

Nick: Seriously...

Anonymous: Yep! Sorry... But for now you can call me... L

Nick: L?

Anonymous: Yea I know it's lame but I couldn't think of a name that isn't super cringeee. I was gonna say Steve but that makes me sound like a 50 year old pedo hahahaha

Nick: Hahaha okay well, L, it's nice to meet you. I'm Nick.

Anonymous: Oh I know. I go to your school doofus.

Nick: Oh. That makes sense.

Anonymous: hehe dummy. Well I gotta dip. I've gotta practice my instruments before I go to bed. It was great talking to you! :)

Nick: Yea it was great talking to you. Let's get to know each other tomorrow?

Anonymous: Of course! See you then!

Nick turned off his phone with a wide grin on his face. At least someone was being nice to him. He looked over to his night stand and reached for the photo frame sitting on it. He held it above his head looking deeply at the people in the image. He frowned looking at his father and slid his thumb over his figure.

"I miss you dad," he whispered to himself.

Nick lay the photo back on his night stand, plugged his phone in and snuggled into himself under his covers.