A Writer Looking to Change the World

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Wednesday, March 2, 2022

All the World's a Stage, Chapter 4

    The apartments a mess. I keep meaning to clean it, but between work and family obligations, I can never find the time to do so. I try to focus on work, but I keep being distracted by a pile of old CDs in the corner.

    The CDs are from when I was younger. My parents were old fashioned, so when I asked for music for my birthdays, they’d always give it to me on a CD. That way, I’d always have it even if my computer broke, they said. They gave me all sorts of CDs, mostly from bands I wasn’t really interested in. They could never remember what was hip, they said. Eventually, I just told them to give me iTunes money.

    Strange, the one on top has a picture of Julius Corvin on it. I don’t remember owning any of his CDs, I’m pretty sure I was buying my own music by that point. I reach over and pick it up to see if I can figure out when it was made. On the front is the title “Life’s a journey”, on the back is a bunch of songs with titles like, “Old friends”, “Trouble at the office”, and “The Future”. Wait, those aren’t Julius Corvin’s songs.

    Those are my songs.

    “I must say, you are a truly wonderful songwriter. Never has there been music I was more eager to steal.”

    I leap up and look around, then see him standing next to me. A man, about as tall as I am, with a cold, calculating grin. “You’re Julius Corvin!” I say.

   He looks at me like I’m a three-year-old learning the names of colors for the first time. “Why thank you for noticing. It’s not everyday I come over to the common part of the world to meet one of my devoted fans you know.”

    “Who let you in here? How did you get here? Why are you in my house?”

    He brushes me off. “Irrelevant.” He says. He walks around the room, checking it out thoroughly, with a look on his face that suggest he’s just entered a slum. “This place,” He says derisively, “This, room, if that’s what you want to call it, is truly the worst place I’ve ever been in in my entire life.”

     “It’s called living within your means. I don’t make millions off my music like you do, I can’t even get any adds, and thanks to you,” I say, waving the CD case in his face, “I will never be able to make any money-making music. Then again, I’ll never make money selling people the belief that they own things they don’t actually own in such a way that it sets the world on fire, so maybe that’s a good thing.”

    He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Is that meant to be an insult?” He asks.

   I pause to think up a decent response. He continues, “A woman living in a trashy studio apartment with furniture so old it would be in a museum if it was anything anybody wanted to see thinks she can insult a man with a fanbase stretching across the globe. Do you really think I care if you don’t think my actions make me a good person? Goodness is never worthy of respect. Goodness makes you give up everything you have, so nobody can say you have more than your fair share. Goodness made you decide that it was worth spending money you would never have to go to a college you didn’t want to go to so you could waste your life at a job that makes you miserable.” He shakes his head sadly, “When I look at you, the very essence of purity and goodness, the compassionate person who would do anything if it made people happy, I don’t feel anything but pity for the circumstances that made you who you are. Just think of how much better it would have been if your parents had encouraged your bad tendencies.”

     I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Are you actually Julius Corvin, or are you the devil?” I ask.

     That’s when I look up and notice the blood red sky, with mountains around us and people screaming in the distance. “Oh god.” I scream.

    “Why are you invoking his name?” Julius asks me. “You don’t believe in Him. Neither did your parents. For you there is no god, nobody to look after you in your time of need, only people who want the world from you but never seem to give back.”

    I shout angrily, “My boss may be awful, but my coworkers are nice. My parents may ask a lot from me, but they give a lot in return. Janine’s amazing, she’s going to change our world one day, and Lisa, well, she’ll figure out who she is eventually, and when she does, she’ll amaze us all.”

    Julius looks at me with one eyebrow raise. He says, “Your boss is awful. You admit as much. Yet your coworkers don’t seem to be able to stand up to him and tell him enough is enough. You’ve seen what happens when people quit their jobs. All it would take would be for you to walk away and convince your coworkers to do the same. Then your boss would have to change he ways.”

    He starts pacing back and forth. I swear I see steam rising from his footsteps. “Then there’s your parents. You say they give you a lot, yet they didn’t even give you a present for Christmas last year.”

    “I’m an adult.” I retort, “And I read online that expecting adults to give presents to each other is stupid.”

    He looks at me. I sigh and say, “Also, I couldn’t afford to give them anything, so I told them to put the money they were going to spend into Lisa’s college fund.”

    “The fund they are managing with utmost care, letting it grow into an amount that, when the time comes, will let her attend Harvard if that’s what she chooses?”

   “Lisa doesn’t want to go to Harvard.” I say, then backpedal, “At least, I don’t think she does.”

   “Whether that’s what she wants or not is irrelevant. If your parents have the money and think she can get in, they’ll make her apply whether or not she wants to go, and if Harvard accepts, she’ll have to go even if that’s not what she wants. That’s what they made you and Janine do, wasn’t it?”

    He’s not wrong. I may be the only person who cheered when she found out Harvard rejected her. “Well, even if my sister is a complete airhead, she still deserves the best chance she can get to have a happy life, and if mom and dad have the money to make it happen, they should try.”

    “Indeed, they should try if they have the money. But, I fear, they don’t have the money to make it happen.”

   I leap up, “You don’t know that.”

   He looks at me the way a parent looks at a child who’s pet rat has just died, “You remember what your professor said when you were learning about finance. Don’t trust investment advisors who say they can do better than the stock market. You told your father that when he was looking to grow his retirement account. Yet your father went with him anyway. You keep telling yourself that it was just a harmless mistake, that your father would never let himself get hoodwinked, yet here he is, convinced that not only is his youngest daughter a genius worthy of getting into an Ivy league school, but that he’s so good with money he can make the same mistakes everyone else makes and suffer none of the consequences. Is it not possible that he’s doing this because he knows it will devastate you to learn that you sacrificed everything for your sister to be successful, only to then have to help pay for her college anyway? Could it be that he’s waiting for the day to show you just how little he actually cares about you?”

    “You don’t know my dad! He’d never do something like this! He worked as hard as he could to make sure we had a nice house to live in and could join all the clubs we wanted to. He was there when I couldn’t pass algebra and needed a tutor. He was so proud when Janine got into law school, and I got my degree in business. He’s not evil, if I need anything, he’ll be there for me.”

   In response, Julius points to my left. I turn an old lady, withered and frail, with baggy, wrinkled skin, and snow-white hair. I gasp, and see her mouth open too. I reach up to touch her, certain she needs help, then I realize.

   It’s a mirror.

  It’s me I’m seeing.

  I smash it. Glass goes flying. “I see you can’t handle the truth.” Julius says. He comes over and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Your job has aged you. You are no longer young, or pretty. Anyone who looks at you sees somebody so ugly they wish they could erase them from their mind. Yet you say that your parents would be there if they needed you. I don’t think they could be less present if they lived across the ocean.”

   I want to clap back. I want to say that there’s no way it could be this bad. I want to say that even if I aged one hundred years since this pandemic started, my parents would still love me. But he’s right. As soon as they could convince themselves it was safe, they started pushing me to come over for dinner. Even when I had work, they made me come over for my sister’s birthday. Even though I told dad time and again to check his financial statements, he told me I knew nothing about a subject I had to study to get my degree. I know they love me, but at the moment I’m not sure they care about me anymore than my idiot boss does.

    Julius laughs. “You finally get it. You finally understand that parents who push their daughter to go to law school could never be good people.”

   “Not all lawyers are bad.” I say.

   “True.” Julius says, “Just enough to taint the whole lot of them. Like how all singers aren’t evil, just the ones you like to listen to.”

   The he laughs. And doesn’t stop laughing. The ground beneath me begins to shake, then open up. I fall in, screaming for help, then land. I look around and see the metal bars surrounding me and the ceiling made of stone. I’m in a cell. I scream and bang in the bars. Then Julius comes up and grabs my wrist.

   “Don’t bother screaming. Nobody will hear you, and even if they did, I doubt they would care. You’re trapped here, just like your trapped in your putrid job and your awful family. You will never escape, things will never get better, you will always be a prisoner.”

    I pull my arm free and scream at him, “I am nobody’s prisoner. I won’t let you destroy me. I will break free from this cell and my miserable life, and I will be successful.”

     All he says is, “Be grateful I stole your music. It’s the only way anyone will care about what you have to say. Too bad they’ll never know you said it.”

                                                                                      ***

    I wake with a lurch. Thank God it was just a dream. Wait, if it was a dream, then why didn’t I take the chance to punch his stupid face when I still had it? I know I’m not good at lucid dreaming, but surely when I saw that the man who used to be my favorite musician was in my apartment gloating about how he stole my music, I should have known it was a dream. Who would even publish music on CDs anyway unless they were planning on selling it at a crafts fair?

    Looking back, it feels laughable to think that Julius Corvin would even be able to find my music, let alone want to steal it. I have five subscribers, so there’s no way he’d find it unless he knew my name, and I’m not even anywhere on his forums. Even if he saw it, I doubt it’s original or witty enough that he would want to steal it. In a way, I almost wish I thought he would. Then I would know that not only am I able to write amazing music, but I’d also have the satisfaction of suing him. Granted, it would be horrifically expensive from my perspective and nothing more than a minor inconvenience for him, but sometimes us little folk have to take what we can get.

    Imagine what it would be like to sue him. I’d call Janine first and tell her everything, then send her a big box of evidence that I’d meticulously collected. Then I’d set up a crowd funding page and tell Lisa to tell all of her followers on social media about it. I’d then post a video talking about how much I loved him as a teen, how he remained a source of inspiration throughout my college years, and how when I was an adult plugging away at work, he was the only thing that kept me sane, but then he got involved in the shadiest scam and man can attempt to pull on those who value him, and I saw him for the man he truly was, the devil in human form, and I knew it was only a matter of time before he decided to steal from someone, but I had no clue it would be me. Unlike all my other videos, this would spread far and wide, as everyone seeing it would be moved by a sense of justice, and I would get all the money I needed to prove I’d been wronged. After I won the case, I would have a massive following, moved by my lovely music that perfectly encapsulated what it felt like to live in the 2020’s.

    That would be amazing. Too bad that won’t happen.

    The rest of the dream though. I know he spent a lot of time badmouthing me and my parents, but I don’t remember what he said. I wish I did, so I could prove just how much of a liar he really is. I think most of it was about how my parents don’t really care about me, they just pretend they do. Well, that’s easy enough to disprove, just look at all the photos they hang up on the walls of me and my sisters. I don’t think the dream was really saying anything about how I think my parents don’t like me much, it’s just me being stressed about work.

    I’m about to settle in to go back to sleep, then I pick up my cell phone to check how long before my alarm rings. It’s 5:15 now. My alarm’s set for six. I moan. I know I could technically go back to sleep, but I know I won’t be able to, so I may as well get up. I throw off the covers, and then I just weep. I’m so tired of work. I’m tired of never getting a good night’s sleep. I’m tired of watching the world collapse around me.

   It’s not just that we can’t get any more employees at work. It’s going through the grocery store and seeing all the empty shelves. It’s reading articles about how many school districts can’t find teachers and many hospitals can’t find doctors and nurses. It’s seeing people online complain about the proliferation of NFTs and seeing many wealthy elites buy into them anyway and watching them push us to buy them as well. It’s knowing that the world sucks, has always sucked, and there isn’t a thing I can do that will change it.

     I don’t just want to quit my job right now. I want to quit life. I want to just hole up in my house and weep for everything I’ve lost, not just since the pandemic, but since 2016, that sense of hope that things would always get better and I would never, in my life, feel like I was at risk of never having enough. But I can’t do that. No matter how bad I feel, I can’t stop going out and doing my part, even if doing so leaves me feeling so empty inside. I wish so badly my parents were part of the ultra-wealthy, the people who don’t even notice we’re struggling. Then I wouldn’t be trapped in my life, and I could live it like I always had. I know that makes me a bad person, but right at the moment I don’t care.

    I look at my phone again and see a notification that Lisa’s posted. It’s probably from yesterday, but she could be getting ready for class. I remember her complaining about how horrible school’s been lately. If she’s up this early, she might have a point. I can’t help but feel sorry for her, it’s one thing for an adult to worry about the world, it’s another thing for someone who isn’t even out of high school yet.

    I get out of bed and wander to my bathroom. I look into the mirror and notice the bags under my eyes. I don’t know that my job has aged me, but it certainly has drained my spirit.

    Whatever. Nobody in the world has ever wanted to do their part, but we keep doing it anyway because our friends and family needs us. I could give up, but that would only make me a bad person, the kind who lives with their parents until their forty because the don’t want to admit they’re losers.

    So it’s time to get ready. No matter how tired I am, no matter how much I want to just leave, I have to keep working. It’s the only thing that reminds me that I’m still a good person.

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