Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92976 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
She let out a small huff, her annoyance only partially soothed by my apology. “My program mostly focuses on operatic performance. I enjoy that musical style, and training my voice is valuable. But I don’t plan on pursuing opera after I graduate. My music has more of a folk vibe. I play just enough guitar and piano to get by, so I can pick out my own melodies while I’m writing songs. But instruments aren’t my strong suit. I usually jam with other music students if I need more complex arrangements.”
“You write your own songs?” My interest was no longer feigned.
Sofia seemed to be capable of making even the most banal things fascinating. Only moments ago, she’d been stiff and angry with me. But within a few sentences of talking about her music, she’d become animated and adorably enthusiastic.
“Yeah,” she replied. “It started off as silly, angsty teenage poetry. Which totally sucked, by the way. I cringe looking at the stuff I wrote when I was fifteen. But I studied the craft, and it didn’t take long for me to put those poems to a tune. I’ve always loved to sing, and it was a natural progression.”
“Why are you in a program that focuses on opera if you write folk music?” I asked.
What had been an inane conversation about her studies was now a puzzle. I wanted to know more about the way her mind worked, why she made the choices she did, and what vision she harbored for her future.
I wanted to understand her, so that I could keep her more easily. If I knew the secrets of what motivated her and inspired her passion, then I could offer her those things. She would be not only willing but eager to remain close to me. She would have no reason to be anything less than completely devoted to me if I provided her with everything she could possibly desire.
“Daddy insisted that I go to college,” she said, her bubbly enthusiasm deflating slightly. “He thinks an education is an important asset.”
She waved her hand through the air, dismissing her budding consternation at the thought of her father. “But it’s been good so far, and I’ve always liked school, anyway. I’ve learned so much more than I ever could have imagined. I’m definitely a way better singer than I was when I came in as a freshman.”
“I’m sure you’ll get a recording contract.” I’d never heard her sing, but if she wanted to be a professional singer, I would figure out how to put money in the right hands to make it happen for her.
“Obviously, that would be awesome. And I hope I do. But my music isn’t about making myself a big success or anything like that. Music has helped me get through some not-great stuff over the years, and I can’t imagine how I would cope without it. Even if I never get a major recording contract, my work will be meaningful if it helps just one other person who’s struggling to get through a hard time in their life.”
I was silent for a moment, overawed by the strength of her passion and the depths of her sweet nature. Sofia didn’t want to be a famous singer because she cared about being lauded or making a ton of money. She wanted to touch other people’s lives, to make them better in any small way she could.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice roughened by the profound effect she had on me.
“For what? You already apologized for diminishing my degree.”
“I didn’t apologize enough. I was being a dick,” I admitted, shaking my head. “I’ve never thought about music as anything more than passing entertainment. I was being dismissive of your program because I thought you were choosing to study something that’s an unimportant hobby, that it was a mark of your privilege.”
I ran a hand through my hair, admitting something aloud that I’d never quite admitted to myself. “I was a little judgmental of you, because I think on some level, I envy you. But that’s just my own classist bullshit, and I should have kicked it years ago. I didn’t have much growing up. Studying anything at all was a luxury. If it wasn’t essential for survival, it was unnecessary.”
I took a breath, bracing myself for my next admission. Sofia didn’t seem to realize just how different my background was from hers. She didn’t understand that I was a poor kid who’d muscled his way among wealthy men and held his place there by strength alone.
“I didn’t even finish high school, so the concept of paying for a college degree to study music seemed beyond indulgent to me. My choices in life have never been guided by passion, and I think I was a little jealous that you were able to do so. I trivialized it, and that was shitty of me.”