A/N This is by no means perfect. Quite the opposite actually. It's a bit terrible, but it was really fun to write, and while the characters can be very frustrating at times, I love them. Anyways, I know there are plot holes (maybe, I was hoping to fix them all when editing but you kind of forget things when writing a 35 chapter novel) and grammar mistakes that I'll maybe go back to fix later (let's hope so). I don't know if anyone will read this, and if they do, they may not like this, but I got so much joy from writing this that I couldn't care less. Osmond Greyjoy deserved his own story, so I gave it to him. (You don't need to read The Things I Hate About Adrian Vang to understand the story, that's just what comes before this in the story line and where our main character comes from. I'd say I recommend it, but I wrote it so that's just tacky. Just do what you want, really)

4.10.24 Hello All! I'm editing this for the first time in a LONG time to update the age of these characters so it is compliant with some of Wattpad's new rules. That may mean there are some inconsistencies, but I figured we'd rather have an inconsistant story that one that has been removed! Thanks for being understanding! <3 IVY

"It's time, Osmond," His aunt began as she stepped into his room, not bothering to knock and he glared forcefully at his caretaker.

    "What do you want?" He snapped, looking up from the sheet music that was scattered all over his bed, some of it sliding to the floor as he shifted into a sitting position and pulled his earbuds out. It was good to take breaks while composing so he really wasn't that upset with his aunt for interrupting, Osmond was just known as being a typical moody teenager, as his aunt said, and he felt like he needed to upkeep his image just for her. "I'm a little busy". He was always busy with something or other and knew this didn't matter to her. Sighing, he began to massage a cramp out of his dominant hand from writing too much for too long.

    "You weren't in school today," she said, dropping down on the end of the bed, not bothering to move any of his music and just sitting right on it. He cringed, watching all of his beautiful work get wrinkled. It would be easy enough to rewrite it tomorrow; he would just have to skip school again, though then they'd most likely have to have this conversation yet another time.

    "Why do I need to go to school?" He questioned, twirling his pencil between his fingers. "I'm a senior and I already have all the credits I need to graduate". This was true. Osmond had taken, and passed, all of his required courses already. Despite this fact, his aunt was still forcing him to attend his senior year, telling him it would be a good experience even though she knew that Osmond hated Springfield high school and every living soul in it now that his best friend Adrian had graduated.

    "Because you still need to learn things, Osmond".

"You know as well as I do that if I went to school today I would have skipped all my classes and spent the day in the band room. You should be happy I stayed home. There's not a piano here I can practice to prepare for the rest of my life as a poor musician".

"You can't just play the piano for a living," his aunt said immediately. Osmond rolled his eyes and dropped back down against his pillows. He closed his eyes, not wanting to have this stupid conversation again, even though he had been the one to initiate it. "Osmond Greyjoy," she snapped and he winced at the use of his father's last name, which he preferred not to answer to.

    "I know I can't play the piano for a living," he said simply. "That's not what my plan is, anyway".

    "And exactly what is your plan," she asked, sounding amused in a very cruel way.

    "I'm going to write music for the piano and then I'm going to play it". This was actually his goal, hence all of the music surrounding him with his own messy handwriting marking the lines.

    "Osmond," She said, sounding rather exacerbated and he sighed loudly.

    "It's time for what?" He asked, interrupting her lecture about classical musicians and composers and a bunch of other things that he loved and she thought was useless and a waste of his time. It was why she refused to allow him to have a piano in the house. Because his talent was useless.

    "What?" she asked and he opened his eyes to glare at her.

    "You came in here and said that it was time," Osmond reminded, "Time. For. What?"

    "Oh," she said, looking a bit embarrassed and then recovering quickly. "It's time for you to get a job, Osmond". He smiled sarcastically, pressing his head into the pillow and laughing up towards the ceiling. This was absolutely hilarious to him. His aunt Jane had been trying to get him to work since his Freshman year and he had still yet to get a job. He didn't have time to work, and if she really wanted him to skip school less, forcing him to get a job that would take up more of his time wasn't the way to improve his attendance. No, the way to do that was to leave him the fuck alone all the time and stop forcing him to eat so often.

    "No thanks," he said, sitting up as his expression fell blank. She watched him with guarded eyes as he pulled some of the sheet music back onto his lap and studied it before continuing his scribble.

    "Osmond," She said, interrupting his process once again and he didn't bother to look up at her. "I already have something lined up for you-"

    "I am not working in some convenient store selling condoms to minors," he snapped and her eyebrows shot up for a moment and then she began to laugh, looking beautiful and so much like his mother that his eyes almost began to tear up before he reminded himself that crying over the past is stupid.

    Even though he hated her most of the time, and she most definitely didn't understand him, he had to give credit to his Aunt Jane. She hadn't asked to be in this situation, and wanted things to turn out differently than they had, just as Osmond did, but in his time of need, she had taken him in. A year out of High School, only nineteen she had welcomed ten year old Osmond into her life and left all of her dreams behind.

    "I wouldn't do that to you," his Aunt said, grinning at him. She reached forward to ruffle his hair then and he groaned in annoyance. "I get it, Oz. I remember when I was like you, all those years ago. I didn't want to work either, but it's hard with it being just the two of us and I'm going to need help at some point". Osmond dropped his eyes as he felt guilty. Sometimes she made being self centered hard. "Please, Osmond. It supposed to pay really well and it's only a part time thing". She looked so hopeful, her brown eyes wide as she looked at him and he sighed loudly, nodding.

    "Fine," he snapped, pushing his music off of his lap again. "What is it?" He was expecting her to say something horrible, like selling concessions at the local movie theater or cleaning the floors at the grocery store, both of which could result in interactions between himself and fellow humans.

    "I don't know much about it," she began, still smiling since he had actually agreed to something for once. "You'll have to call Mr. Benson for more information but-"

    "Benson?" Osmond spat, scowling. He could recall the music teacher telling him time and time again that he needed accompanists for his soloists and that the district would pay him (very little) to do it. "I'm going to be working for the district?" He hated the schools in the area and the idea of working for any of them made his feel sick. It was so stupid. There was Springfield and Valley Falls, and then a couple of smaller schools that had poor scores in every category besides number of joints smoked per square feet.

Besides, he had yet to meet a musician worthy of his accompaniment since Adrian.

    "It's not for the district," Jane said, shaking her head and Osmond raised one eyebrow at her, unable to imagine what other job Benson would have to offer him. "It's for a family, so they'd be the ones paying you". Osmond raised the other brow now, wanting more information as quickly as possible, but she just looked at him blankly for a second before sighing in defeat. "I really don't know much, but from what I understand... a boy from your school is going to be traveling around east and a few places in the middle west for a while playing in concerts, something about looking good for some music school or whatever, and he needs a piano player".

Osmond processed this for a moment. "I'll get to travel with some kid?" He asked and she nodded. "This year?" Another nod. "During the school year?" Nod. "I'll get to miss school?" She slapped at him now and he leaned away from her but she still got his arm. She wasn't very strong, so his wince was solely to make her feel good. "What?"

"Missing school shouldn't be an incentive," she demanded, but he could tell she was fighting off a smile.

"Of course it's not," he lied and she rolled his eyes since he hadn't even tried to sound convincing.

"So," she began, looking at him with wide eyes, "what do you think?"

Overall, it sounded like an good opportunity. This boy that he would be playing for may be the one playing in concerts to look good, but it would also be a good thing to add to his application to send to Juilliard, which he would have to mail soon if he wanted to meet the deadline.

"I think that's something I possibly could do," Osmond said slowly and his Aunt jumped up from the end of his bed and clapped happily. Before she could get too hyped he added, "if he's worthy". Osmond doubted his was. "I'll still have to think about it". He wasn't agreeing, but he wasn't saying no, and that in itself was clearly something to his aunt.

"That's great, Oz. Thank you so much". She looked like she wanted to hug him, but Osmond really didn't like hugs much so she refrained, instead placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing affectionately. "You'll have to remember to call Mr. Benson after supper since I won't be here to remind you. Your food is-"

"Where are you going?" Osmond asked, looking his aunt up and down. She couldn't have been going to work or anything because she was dressed casually, but she also couldn't have been going to a friends house since she was wearing make up that was meant to be seen. He raised his eyebrows further as she blushed.

"I have a date," she said, watching his reaction from under her eyelashes and he swallowed heavily before nodding.

"Have fun, I guess," he said, suddenly feeling rather uncomfortable with the situation as he diverted his eyes away from his aunt's face. She laughed at him softly.

"I'll be leaving your dinner on the stove, Osmond. Please don't wait too long to eat or it will get cold, and please don't forget to eat because then I'll get angry at you," she said and he nodded absently, barely listening to her words as he thought about this opportunity he was given. "Osmond". His eyes focused on her face and he tried to look as if he had been listening the whole time, but she wasn't to be fooled. "I'm going to check the garbage when I get home and if I see that you've simply thrown everything away to save time, don't think that I won't be calling that band teacher of yours and telling him to not allow you in his room for a month".

Osmond really wasn't threatened by this since Adrian had given Benson's spare key to the room to him a while back, right before he had left in July. "An early birthday present," Adrian had said, "since I'll be leaving long before September eighth".

But his Aunt didn't need to know that. Instead of acknowledging her threat he asked her the question that just suddenly came to mind. "Why do you want me to do this if you hate me playing the piano so much?" he asked, since the entire job was basically him playing the piano.

Jane sighed. "I don't hate you playing the piano, I just think that if you spend all of your time playing the piano you'll miss opportunities for... more practical things". Osmond could feel himself getting annoyed again and was going to demand she get out and leave him alone, but she surprised him by saying one more thing. "But I understand, Osmond. I understand that you love the piano and I want to encourage you to do the things that you love". She smiled at him one last time before leaving his bedroom and shutting the door softly behind her.

Maybe, Osmond thought for the first time, his aunt understood him.

Just a little bit.

***

Despite his Aunts reminder, the food was cold by the time he got to it, and therefore marginally less appealing. He ate it anyways, leaning over the score to his piece as he twirled his spaghetti, being careful not to get any sauce on the creme paper and failing miserably. Eventually he pushed the paper away from him, choosing to focus solely on his food and the soft melody that was pouring out of his ear buds.

About two months or so ago, over the summer, he and Adrian had broken into the school with Benson's spare key. They spent hours upon hours recording themselves playing their favorite pieces, and even some duets. Osmond had downloaded his favorites, which were mostly of himself since he never really enjoyed the sound of the saxophone before, and listened to them on repeat most days, critiquing his technique and tone and other things that he knew he did mostly perfectly. He greatly enjoyed listening to himself play, and was trying to incorporate some of his favorite stylistic parts of the songs into his own work.

A loud ringing interrupted his creative processed and the tore his earbuds out, cursing his ring tone and swearing at his glowing phone loudly.

When he was no longer angry at the object for nearly deafening him, he answered the call. "Who are you and what do you want?"

There was a long hum before the familiar voice spoke. "I don't know why I expected you to sound more pleasant over the phone," Benson said softly and Osmond rolled his eyes.

"How'd you get this number?" He asked, though he then realized it was most likely because of his aunt, and then decided to say something else so Benson wouldn't waste his time by answering. Wasting time on previously known knowledge was probably as annoying to him as taking to his teacher in the first place. "I was going to call you after I finished eating supper".

"It's ten o'clock, Osmond. How late were you planning on eating?" Based on Benson's voice, Osmond could tell that his teacher believed him to be lying, which he most definitely had not. As usual, time had gotten away from him, but of course Benson would wonder who the hell would be eating at this time of night.

Even though Osmond understood the acquisition, he was still annoyed by it. "Late," he snapped and the teacher on the other end was silent for a very long time. Such a long time that it was Osmond who got impatient with him and cut to the chase. "So what horrible underclassman will I be babysitting?"

"He's not horrible," was the first thing the man said, which led Osmond to believe the contrary. "And he's not an underclassman. He's a new senior this year, switched over from Valley Falls at the beginning of the semester, and if anything, he'll be babysitting you". Osmond raised his eyebrows, remaining silent which told his teacher that he wanted to know more. "His name is Carmen Huego and he's been playing the violin for the last fourteen years".

"So he's absolute shit then," Osmond said, since he himself had been playing the piano for that long, and even technically a prodigy, he still wasn't at the level yet he wished to be.

"He's no you," Benson said, and it was almost like he was agreeing, but then he added more. "I'd say he's more on the level of Adrian, but better".

Osmond snorted. "Better?" he asked, and this was hard to believe. Besides himself, Adrian was the most talented musician he knew, despite his horrible choice in instruments.

"What can I say," Benson began, "he works harder". This was even more hard to believe since Adrian was also one of the most dedicated people that Osmond had ever meet. "Anyway, Carmen's mother wants him to get into Juilliard and she wants one more thing for him to put on his application before he sends it. For most families this would mean volunteering at the soup kitchen one last time but for her, she'd like her son to travel and play in various different concerts and open for a couple symphony orchestras. Oh! And he needs an accompanist".

Osmond hummed. "Does it cost much?"

"They'd be paying for you to go. That includes the costs of hotels and food. In addition to that they're willing to pay you a shit ton of money. I don't know exactly how much though, so don't ask. That's none of my business, but I know it's a lot". Osmond didn't really care about the money, having nothing to do but play the piano for a while was payment enough. He also really liked the idea of going someplace other than Florida for once.

"If he's as good as you say, I'll do it," he said, still a bit reductant. Yeah, the job sounded perfect for him, but for some reason it felt like he'd be giving in to his aunt and Benson, and he rather liked saying no to them. Benson laughed in his ear.

"It's not that easy, Osmond. I'll need you to come in tomorrow and meet the boy, run though his song a few times to make sure you can play the material". Osmond chuckled at this part. There were very very few piano pieces that he was unable to play, so he really wasn't too worried about it. "I know, I know, but that's not really the problem, Osmond".

"There's a problem?"

"You have to get him to like you," Benson said and Osmond's smile from the previous joke faded slowly. People really didn't like him much. Even his Aunt wasn't always all that fond of him.

"Why?" He asked, trying not to sound annoyed and failing miserably. It was hard to not sound one thing when it was literally the basis of your personality.

"Because he's not going to want to travel around the united states with you if he thinks you're going to act like a little bitch the entire time, alright? So just be nice and show up tomorrow morning".

"But it's a saturday," Osmond said, though that really didn't bother him much. He wouldn't have anything to do anyways, besides compose of course, but taking breaks from his work seemed to fuel him.

Since Adrian had left for school the only person he did anything with was Ezra and they already had plans to get coffee on monday so it was safe to assume the older wouldn't be calling him to do anything any time before that. While they were friends, it was still difficult to always be around each other since they both had obvious feelings for the same boy and only one of them got to act on those feelings.

"Be there at nine, Osmond. This is a great opportunity and if you ruin it-" he hung up then and after a second of quiet classical piano music began to pour through his speakers once again. He sighed, his fingers tapping against the countertop as if it was a piano and the music from his phone was him playing at that moment.

Tomorrow he would go into school and try to make a good impression on this Carmen so if he decided to go on this trip with him, he could. Then he would find as many reasons not to go as possible just in case he felt like being difficult. Then he'd have complete control of the situation; the upper hand, just how he liked it.

But he didn't yet.

Sighing, Osmond turned off his music.

All he had to do was make someone like him.

A/N There's Chapter One for you, I guess. I honestly love Osmond. He has such a bad attitude and I love him for it.