Too soon, it was time to head back to school (the events from the shooting had totally place future school events in total disarray, yet only a couple of them were cancelled) as I joined my usual crew for our morning routine. "Demario, you gave everyone such a scare for the past two weeks," Epiphany breathed as she and Serenity gave me a big hug after Oliver and my foster brothers escorted me to school. "How are you feeling after everything- the shooting, losing Jillian and Artem, and all?"

"Well, I'm just taking things one day at a time, but I'm still shaken up by everything that's been going down," I admitted before giving both girls a quick yet detailed recap of what went down, Derrick and Holly joining us soon as we headed for our lockers. "In short, you can say that I'm living the life of a soap-opera character who wants to escape the drama yet seems to run into more of it."

"I bet it is," Serenity commented, shaking her head. "From Ryan and Theo still incognito after everything to your paternal aunts coming over. I can't even imagine living in your shoes for a day if given the opportunity, Demario."

"Well, I'm just glad that you guys are around to help me stay sane because whether I like it or not, I have a strong feeling that things are going to get more messed-up than I can even handle," I replied just as I saw the Callaway duo approach us. "And how can I help you two?"

"Good morning, Demario," greeted Mrs. Callaway, giving me soft smile. "I take it that you're on the mend after what happened?"

I nodded. "I was lucky that I didn't suffer more damaged by the gunshots," I commented. "The doctors told me and my foster family that I must've had some sort of guardian angel protecting me. In a way, I'd like to think the same thing."

And more than I already knew, hence my encounter with my late grandparents, I thought to myself.

"I bet that's a hard fact to believe," Mr. Callaway intoned. "Anyway, Ms. Machado from Berman-Dawes Academy was aware of what happened that fateful night, though she was lucky enough to have left earlier. She commented that her heart dropped when she learned that you were shot and was afraid that someone was jealous enough to want you dead, but I assured her that it wasn't the case. All the same, she is back in town and wants to talk to you and Oliver about the scholarship offer later this afternoon- that is, if you and Mr. Slade are still interested."

"Of course we are," I replied, Oliver nodding in assent. "I take it that my foster dads as well as Oliver's uncle have been informed?"

"They have, and they'll meet with us over lunch," Mrs. Callaway noted. "Demario, if I haven't said this already, then it must be said: you are one marvel of a student that has been through so much in so little time. Most kids who are in your shoes might've chosen to give up and succumb to the false promises and depressions. But you? I am so proud of you for allowing yourself to keep moving forward and learning to heal from your past. It hasn't been easy for you, I know, but please don't let the darkness swallow you whole. Promise me that you're going to keep using your support system as part of your methods and guiding lights to help you walk the path."

Oliver squeezed my hand as I took a deep breath. "Thank you, ma'am," I said, keeping my voice even. "And I will. Ollie made me promise the same thing as he promised to continue being my rock."

"And that's so sweet," Holly cooed just as the bell rang for students to head to homeroom. "We'd better get a move on. A long day awaits."

She didn't have to tell me twice. Going our separate ways, Oliver and I promised everyone to talk about what would be said over lunch. And with Mrs. Callway's words in my heart, I was going to make sure that I fulfilled my promises to my friends and to myself.

************

"Mr. Bader, my sympathies go out to you after your ordeal," Ms. Machado, now dressed in a dark-pink pantsuit, said as Oliver and I joined her, Oliver's uncle, Joel and Taylor, Mrs. Bermudez-Estrada, and even the Tuckers in the band room where a private lunch was being served. Also with us was my maternal aunt Denise and her husband Trey and even Yvonne. "I can't imagine how you are now coping with everything going on so far."

"Ms. Machado, all I can say to you now is that the people in this room alongside my therapists, my best friends who are at lunch with everyone, and even the judge who handled my case made sure that I didn't fall into a world of self-pity," I replied honestly. "If I can be frank? I'm not going to lie to you when I say that I'm still haunted by what happened. And even after the shooting, a part of me is afraid that all that I had gained so far would be taken away through betrayal or heartbreak. I'm afraid that I'd be left alone because people would change up on me and use me for their own needs. But most of all, I'm afraid that I would be pushed to the point when I would have to take lethal action to escape the madness when everyone left me to fend for myself."

"Demario," Yvonne said sadly. "I had no idea."

"Nor did Trey and I," Aunt Denise said, shaking her head as Uncle Trey rubbed her protruding belly. "Your late mother and her supporters did a nasty number on you. And nether one of us- Trey, Yvonne, and I- did much to help you get through it all."

"It's okay," I assured her. To Ms. Machado, "The song that I played at the recital was a symbol of a broken boy who was scorned and broken one time too many and was ready to let go of it all- escape a world that can be cruel and wicked. It's hard to keep your noses  clean these days when anything can be allowed and people can't be trusted these days. But I know that there's still a bit of good in this world, some people who try to show love to many people who are hurting from the wounds of rejection and abandonment. My performance and ongoing journey is a tribute to the boy who was ready to end it all because his hateful mother said so but will always come back because there's people who won't allow him to crash and burn."

"And isn't that what life is about?" Mr. Tucker asked, granting me a small grin. "Demario, won't you play a little something for us?"

I nodded. "If that's okay with Ms. Machado and the Callaways," I said.

"But of course," the administration representative replied.

I made my way to the piano and sat down, immediately launching into a more-edgy and classical version of "Alright," by Kendrick Lamar with my mind clear from any stressors or negative thoughts. Playing the piano for me is like being lost in a wonderland where music was the essence of magic; even right now, I was lost in a creative fugue when I was pouring my heart and soul into the musical number.

I switched to a slow waltz-like version of "When We Were Young" by Adele as I heard a few band students come in and sit down to watch me perform.

I didn't think about my tragic and toxic relationship with my mother and how she wanted me miserable. I didn't think about me being a love child. And I didn't think about my life almost being ended by some jock and his emo lover who hated being told the truth about their twisted mindsets. All I thought about was the love of music and how I was still planning to share it with the world.

I finished with a small version of "Waves," by Mr. Probz, singing the last bars of the second verse. "I wish I could make it easy," I sang with a bluesy undertone. "Easy to love me, love me. And so I reach the final wave, sinking in between while looking for the right words to say. Slowly driftin', driftin' away. Wave after wave, wave after wave. Slowly driftin' away, drifting away. And if feels like I'm drowning, pulling against the stream. Pulling against the stream."

"Beautiful," my boyfriend, who had shared his story earlier and remained quiet until now, cheered as applause filled the room. "Babe, this is why I love you."

Ms. Machado smiled widely. "There is no reason why I can't give you both the scholarship for next semester," she said. "All expenses paid for the spring semester and for your senior year, as promised. I'll be giving you both some paperwork to fill and would need it before-"

A stout teacher hurriedly came inside, holding what looks like a note. "Sorry for the interruption," he apologized. "Mr. Callaway, this note came for Demario. And something tells me that it's from someone whom we should know already."

Murmurs erupted before Principal Callaway shushed everyone as I took the note and began to read.

Hello, Demario, the note began. You're one teenager who's hard to kill despite our wish to end you like your mother demanded. If only you had died when we shot you, but no matter. The game of life and death is in play and we're going to win while you will lose.

With hate,
Blake and Peavey.

I gulped loudly as Joel took the letter while his husband was on his phone to call Judge McGillivray.

Ryan and Theo are swearing revenge. And they're blood hungry for my demise.

What the fuck?

Theo and Ryan are sending up a challenge to Demario and they're ready to cause havoc, folks! And something tells me that they have something up their sleeve to start lighting the match and fanning the flames on everyone!

But what's more complicated, Demario finally comes face to face with Douglass and Evangeline Bader in the next chapter; and as Yvonne warned, they're none too happy with him being a bastard child. Ooh, child! The tea is ready to be spilled with a lot of shade being thrown!

Dedication: Hopestrife (read "Beats of the Heart," folks! It's really good!).

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