AmazingDan + pbirds High School Encounter

[pbirds]

Jimmy tilted his head, and did his best to keep from smirking. Don't be an asshole, he told himself, but still- it was a relief to hear that this kid wouldn't outdo him in something he cared about. Mitch felt more than intimidating; yeah, he was cute, but he carried himself so well, with a strain of confidence that Jimmy himself couldn't dream of achieving. It was unfair. He guessed he could use a touch of arrogance, but then that would make him unpleasant, wouldn't it? Whatever the case, Jimmy nodded, shrugging in false indifference. "Yeah, it's- I mean, it- it's not a big deal, really. I used to take lessons, but, uh… they were expensive, so."

 

[AmazingDan]

Mitch nodded quickly, "Does your dad make a lot? Of money, I mean." He asked. He wasn't thinking of the question was personal or not; he wanted to know because of the mention of expensive classes. So Jimmy probably was really damn good at the piano. So how did he afford it? That was what Mitch thought of. It wasn't his fault, he was an impulsive person.

 

[pbirds]

"Uh." For a few moments, all Jimmy could do was hesitantly shake his head, as he tried to piece together an articulate response that wasn't wholly hostile. What was this guy getting at? Did it matter? He squinted, examining Mitch's expression for longer than he'd ever dared to before, only dropping his gaze back into a zone of security- rather, the floor- as he replied, "Uhm. Not anymore, no." He forced a laugh, scratching the back of his head in a mixture of embarrassment and festering annoyance.

For most of Jimmy's life, his father's work had been stable; he sometimes (and with increasing frequency over the years) worked double shifts, but they usually made more than enough money to get by, especially after his brother graduated with a full ride to a private university across the country. Regardless, he was fired without warning in the middle of Jimmy's sophomore year, and since then had been floating around in customer service, where nothing ever really seemed to stick. Jimmy supposed that, at the very least, he was lucky he didn't have any younger siblings to worry about.

"That's, uh, why I quit," he said shortly. It's not that he had quit piano altogether, but there was a distinct slow of progress as he'd eased his way out of "professionally tutored" and into "self-taught". As he stared deliberately at his shoes, he couldn't ease the gnawing feeling that Mitch was already judging him for it, even now.