This story is based on a certain genre of music, and a name. Our
assignment was to create a story inspired from the music, but it had to include
a specific name. In this case, the genre was R&B (but it sounded more like
Funk to me) and the name was Xavier. Yes, the name doesn’t fit the music, but
that’s kind of the point. I hope you like it.
Xavier
was bringing the 70’s back. As he looked in the mirror, he admired how nicely
his fro was growing out. Granted, it was a Jew-fro, but a fro nonetheless. And
his outfit—wow. Just wow, was all he could think. He was wearing nearly every
color imaginable, and one would not be wrong to call him a walking, talking
rainbow. With one last comb through and a glance at his reflection, Xavier was
out the door and walking down the street. Bobbing his head slightly, he thought
he was the coolest cat in town, and would definitely be the coolest one at his
school’s 70’s themed dance.
Ten
minutes passed, and on Xavier walked. He was not going to miss this dance for
anything, even though the school was two miles away. As he passed people on the
street, he got a couple of double-takes, for his attire was out of its time.
With
all this mindless walking, Xavier’s mind soon drifted to the memory of his
first dance. Or almost dance, he corrected. He was ten years old, and he was so
excited he could barely handle it. He wanted to be at that dance. Now. But his
mom was being as overbearing and demanding as she knew how. As he grew older,
Xavier realized that she was just overreacting to his growing up—it was his
first dance, after all. However, he did not understand that at the time. All he
could think about was being at that dance, with his friends, but most of all,
he just wanted to dance. He loved to dance.
“Just
come sit down and eat dinner!” his mom yelled up the stairs.
“Fine!”
Xavier replied, with as much angst and resentment as he could muster in his ten
year old self.
He
stomped down the stairs and glumly took his seat at the table. His mom then
placed a plate of food in front of him. The smell of lightly roasted chicken
and hot, buttery green beans wafted up to his nose, and Xavier decided that he
would eat his dinner, but eat it quickly, so he could get to the dance as soon
as possible.
In three
minutes, his plate was clean. However, his mother made him sit there until she
finished her meal. Xavier was bursting with anger—why couldn’t she just let him
go to the dance?! He could even walk there—it was only half a mile away, and he
was ten years old, not a baby.
“Come on, Mom!”
Xavier nearly shouted, about to jump out of his chair.
“Just give me a
moment,” his mother replied.
A few minutes
passed, yet his mother still had not finished. Xavier was out of patience.
“Fine!” he
yelled. “I’ll just go myself!”
“No you will
not! Now go to your room and stay there. There will be no dance for you
tonight.”
After stomping
loudly up the stairs and slamming his door as hard as he could, Xavier lay on
his bed, exhausted and dejected. Although he didn’t want to, he soon fell asleep,
dreaming that all his friends had fun at the dance; they even forgot he was
supposed to be coming! Xavier glumly woke up the next morning, and decided that
he would never speak to his mother again. But that didn’t last long.
Suddenly coming
out of his reverie, Xavier realized he was just one block away from school. He
vowed that this night would be much better than the one permanently engrained
in his memory. He would have fun.
And with that,
Xavier walked through the school’s doors, ready to have the best night of his
life.