Mr Wilson was sitting alone and looking outside the window. Children were on their skating wheels, talking to each other; girls with tennis balls in a basket, walking towards the stadium; boys with their fighter jet models moving towards the physics lab. Everyone has something that connects them to people. Interests, hobbies, passion, these aren't the luxuries that we think they are, they make us human. They show us the joy of living. It pained Mr Wilson that it was stripped from a young child just because of a candid lack of infrastructure. 

From then, whenever he saw MJ in the halls or in the class, he observed how MJ was constantly sticking by Ralf, as if he would slip away if he let go. He'd never be by himself, always with people around him, almost as if he was afraid of letting people go away from him. Almost as if he was afraid of himself. Was he afraid of himself?

"I feel like I'm doing something wrong, pushing my desires on all these people...people that matter to me, but I don't know if I matter to them. I don't even know if they like me. Sometimes, I feel like I annoy them and...that makes me feel very lonely,"

Look at me in the eyes
Describe to me all the things you love about me 
And I will counter all those things 
With the things I hate 
Because I cannot make a move 
Start a conversation 
Borrow an ear 

Nothing I've ever done has made me a friend 
that I have dreamt about all my life 
Now I see that you 
Look at me in the eyes 
and notice all the colours I could've been 
All the opportunities I have marred
And would continue to do so 

I don't know what's wrong with me 

So don't look at me in the eye 

I feel like I'm doing something wrong, pushing my desires on all these people

I am afraid that you will see
My ailment that I can't understand
Of knowing that I love you
But not knowing how to love 
Either you or me 

People that matter to me, but I don't know if I matter to them.

If you look me in the eye 
Would you take me as I am?
Sacred of nothingness; full of everything
An empty shell of unknown emotions 
Poured out before me 
Unknown. Unknowable.
Unenchatable. 

 I don't even know if they like me. Sometimes, I feel like I annoy them and...

Look me in the eye
In my own language 
Understand the physics of my world 
That one day would be your world 
If you let it be 
If you let me see 
What hides beneath you 
Inside your eyes 
But I know you won't 
And I know I don't deserve it 

"That makes me feel very lonely,"

Mr Wilson was done writing his poem. He penned down his thoughts as they came. He was saddened to be Mitchelle momentarily, to transfigure his words into poetry. Was that how he felt? Is that what he meant when he said he felt lonely? He did not know. He closed his diary and blew out air from his nostrils, looking at the flags lined up against the wall, the books and charts scattered across the table and the trophies of history quizzes won by the children, who are probably dead by now. 

Kerlin County High has a long history of centuries. This old, refurbished building, aching from old age, yet surviving to nourish countless children that would go on to be presidents, footballers, policy makers, singers, artists, and land on a forty-nine feet long hall of fame, but all this history could not make Kerlin County strong enough to bear the weight of one child's dream?

"A room?" The principal turned towards Mr Wilson, a gigantic glass wall behind him that looked directly at the large football field behind him. The principal's room was so big and so full of trophies and newspaper cuttings glued inside shining frames, highlighting the achievements of the great Alumni of Kerlin County High. 

"For a music club"
"We already have a music club," The principal said, "We have a choir,"
"A choir is different from a band"
"Same things to me, Mr Wilson. We have had countless singers from our school choir become national sensations. If that's not a successful choir, what is?"

"But sir, it would mean the world to some kids here...if they could have a music club, apart from the choir, with instruments,"
"We do have a classical music society. It's quite well known too,"
"Yes, sir. But it's not a pop music society now, is it?"
"Mr Wilson, if we start having societies for every genre of music, do you know how much stress it would put on the school finances? We need to get a new teacher to head the club, provide it a budgetary allocation every year, run an audit every year, and reduce ourselves to one classroom because we need extra rooms,"

"We are a private institution, we can afford it. Just a little less profits made," Mr Wilson looked at the principal. 
"Me Wilson," The principal smiled, "Don't make me remind you of your temporary position in this private institution. You are a guest here. The moment the history teacher is up on his knees again, you can take your contract and leave, alright?"

Mr Wilson looked at the principal, "What if I, a temporary replacement, head that society, at least for as long as I am here? I will take care of the finances, and you don't have to provide a spare room,"

"Are you sure you can fit that into your schedule?"
"I'll make it happen," Mr Wilson said. The principal looked at the determination in his eyes, "What makes you so interested in this pop society? Are you a relative of any of the students involved? Are you being paid by a third party?"
"My goals are beyond money, Mr Spruce. I genuinely love my students,"
"Even if they are temporary?"

Mr Wilson smiled, "I'm afraid we both have a different way of looking at things, sir,"
The principal smiled, "We do. Alright. Do as you wish, you are a free man. But I must not hear any complaints. Otherwise whatever you are doing," He sat back onto his comfortable armchair, "I will shut it down along with you,"

"Understood,"

Mr Wilson completed the class and everyone began leaving.
"Mitchelle, help me carry the flags back,"
MJ walked towards Mr Wilson's desk and took the flags. Mr Wilson walked beside him. MJ was very quiet. Mr Wilson started the conversation, "How is your music club going, Mitchelle?"
"It's okay. Nothing much has changed," He was quiet for a bit so Mr Wilson decided to continue the conversation, but as he was about to say something, MJ interrupted him, "I'm thinking of closing things off,"

"Why?" Mr Wilson asked.
"Because nobody around me cares about it. The principal doesn't care and my friends aren't as excited about it as they used to be. They are tired of practising for hours and nothing coming out of it. Guess I'll take the loss," MJ walked inside the history room, which was now empty. 

"No, you won't," Mr Wilson said and MJ turned towards him, "I talked to the principal. Mitchelle, this is your practice room, use it however you wish,"
"...Why...did you... You did all this for me?"
"I did it for the love you had towards what you did. I think it's a beautiful thing, to let music make you come close to people. And I hope you can allow me to be a part of it,","
"What do you mean?" MJ asked.
"I'll be your teacher representative. Your club needs a teacher to head it, you know. Make sure you guys don't do anything crazy. If the music teacher doesn't care about this band, I certainly do,"

"...You have no idea how HAPPY I AM RIGHT NOW!" MJ screamed with happiness and started jumping while wiggling his wrists, "Let me text all the boys, we finally found the room!! You are awesome, Mr Wilson!" MJ ran outside the room and Mr Wilson just watched him sprint across the halls until he disappeared in the crowd. It was the most triumphant he had ever felt. 

Ryan and Jerome sat on the two ends of a stair, looking at each other while talking. Suddenly, MJ came running down the staircase, "There you are! You bitches haven't read my text, I suppose?!"
Jerome looked at MJ, "MJ, how did it go with Louise?"
"Oh! Erm...I was alright. Oh, practice tomorrow, by the way... In our new room! Mhmm"
"No way!" Both Ryan and Jerome got up, "That baldy finally gave you a room?"

"No, fuck the principal! Mr Wilson did! He is so cool!"
"Mr Wilson? The history sub?" Jerome looked confused.
"I didn't know you guys were close?" Ryan asked.
"We are very tight. He is definitely my favourite teacher now! He's so chill, he lets me skip class and he got me a room for our band!"
"He seems like he has a crush on you," Jerome said.
"Jerome, everyone has a crush on me," MJ slicked his hair back with his fingers and rubbed his tongue on his lips.

"Never do that blasphemous shit again," Jerome warned him.
"So, should we go see our new room?" Ryan seemed excited.
"Yes! We should also take our instruments with us. I haven't had sex in so long, I carve the guitar"
"...You fuck your guitar bro?" Jerome asked.
"No, I finger it,"

"Oh...OH. That was a good one," They both dabbed each other up, "My man,"
"Jerome, you're the only one who appreciates my humour. I like you,"
"Thanks!"
"Come here, I wanna kiss your hot lips,"
"Nah, I'm good. I only kiss girls,"
"Well, too bad, because I want you to do something for me,"
"Please don't sexually harass me,"
"What? Why would I- Whatever, no, it's serious. Come here, both of you!" Jerome and Ryan brought their ears close to MJ's mouth and MJ whispered something, "Possible, we can do it," Ryan agreed.
"Aw HELL nah! No!" Jerome was staunchly against it.

"Can you not do that for our little Louise?"
"Nah, it's not that!" Jerome moved closer to MJ, "People will get videos of me," Jerome whispered, "And I will be a laughing stock,"
"Why are you so afraid of losers laughing at you?"
"The majority thinks that WE are the losers,"
"Well, communism is shitty. But the majority thought it was good. That's why they fought for it! The majority isn't always right. But me though, I'm always right,"

"MJ, is there any other way?"
"No, I'm going to show Henry that I'm not afraid of him and he can disrespectfully suck my ass,"
"Alright, let me try to calm you down,"
"I'm feeling very calm right now," MJ said, aggressively, "You gotta do what I ask of you. You're my friend, I have trust in you," He reached into his pockets for a gun, but there was none. But it surely gave flashbacks to Jerome. Ever since the day Jerome became "friends" with MJ, life has been pretty...pretty impulsive. But he knew, it was only going to get worse.

"Alright, first let's clean the room that we own now,"
"Hell yeah! A little surprise for Louise!" MJ ran ahead, "Meet me in the history room,"
Jerome and Ryan walked after him, "He's pretty enthusiastic about it. Wow, big word, enthusiastic. My English is improving"
"Isn't that just great?"
"That is just gruesome,"

"Not the best set of words to use, but will do," Jerome faked a smile and they finally reached the history room, "Mr Wilson gave up his room for us? He literally is our fairy godmother," 
Ryan started crying, "Mr Wilson is so nice," Jerome tried calming him down but Ryan cried even more. MJ ignored him and looked at the wall, he had a vision.

"Guys, let's own this room! I need bright yellow lights, purple curtains, wooden planks, a toolbox and a lot of duct tape. TONY!" Tony appeared right behind Jerome and Ryan. "Let's get to it! The Home Depot!"

-To be continued