In all the absence and silence that were bestowed, this is an approach of something different. This is not a letter of apology. This is not a story of pain or pity; I tell my tale because it was a story of hope and perseverance. The times we had part ways had not change me, but it grew on me.
My theatre director took me in the following day. He visited me like I was some lost cause in an establishment of shunned children in the world (people who were caught doing this and that). The relationship between him and I are different from you being it was a different impact. I get yelled at and shamed by him all the time, along with everybody. The times when he complimented me was the most rewarding. The things we could say, are intimate. The bond you and I had (or I felt), I never saw shame from you. You were proud, success or loss. The time when I knew I cannot take back the “acting” and lies from you, I soaked the pain deadly.
“I remember when you told me that you were resigning from the theatre company. You said you were off to your dreams.”
“I don’t need fame.”
“It was not about fame. It was the great character in and outside.”
“...It was about the character when nobody is physically present. I am evil when I am alone.”
“David. Arthur was not for perfection. Arthur was for openness. Of course, you sang more beautifully than any other auditioners and to my disappointment (cough) CHRISTIAN… You were truly alone as an individual. Rarely have I ever cried myself in a performance.”
“You are the most quietest lead I ever had. Modest.”
“You put that up very high. You wanted to bring honor. You wanted to bring it close to your family, friends, and culture.”
“...I don’t want to celebrate anymore.”
“Do not drop it. It is in your culture. It was honorable for you to give up your position as more respectable dancer to being little-known videographer.”
“How did you know I gave it up?”
“John is in my honors English class. He showed me your videos of why he was absent from my class and I thought they were beautifully mastered. He was thankful for you, selfless for giving that up.”
I could have decided to be recognized as a dancer instead of giving it up. I could have denied management and say I had no time, ROBOTICS. I could not look at snow days the same way and wish to never experience one ever again. I could have wished to have denied Marks’ questioning on a ride to the school. I could have decided not to assist Mark in the phone call with Tan, in which I had to call his brother to reach him. I could have decided not to leave the noisy machine room to the computer lab and instead go outside when I speak to him on the phone. I could have wished to lose track of the rehearsal schedules and chose for them to rehearse independently without visual rubric. I could have decided to do better when told: “David, you’re in charge of this. Don’t mess this up. It’s our last year man. Bring honor to us all…” I could have thought...