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The first thing you should know about me is that my name is Percival. If I had close friends, I would probably go by Percy. The second thing you should know about me is that I love to play the piano. I have been playing for years and I have been composing a piece for a while. The third thing you should know is that I go to an all-boys boarding school. The fourth thing you should know is that I have a couple of secrets that stop me from making friends.
I have a routine. I wake up early, much more so than most of the other boys on my floor. I stand in my dark room, put my clothes on, turn on my light and gather my things to begin my day. I put my necessary books and papers in my bag and go to the theater hall.
There, I practice on the piano for about an hour and a half before breakfast. I practice a few long pieces, nothing crazy, to work on memorizing the songs. I go to breakfast. I sit among the boys but I seldom talk. Occasionally a classmate will ask me about something or a drama major will ask if I can help with their practice later. For the most part, I keep to myself.
I am good at academics, okay at physical activities. I am technically a part of the theater club providing music as necessary. It’s enough to keep the other clubs at bay. After the theater club leaves I pull out my notes for the piece I’m composing and try to work on it a little bit at a time.
Well before curfew I pack up and head back to my room. I make sure my door is locked, I ensure my window curtains are fully drawn and get out of my clothes. I get into my shorts gather my things and go to the showers.
I try to take my shower while everyone is getting ready to go to dinner. I join them soon after my shower. It used to get me a bunch of looks but everyone got used to it. It drew an uncomfortable amount of attention to me but that seems to have died down; that or I got used to it. After dinner, I go to my room. I have to keep my door open for this part of the evening by rules. I use this time to get my studying done.
What you should know is that this is my routine for the weekdays. My weekend goes a little bit differently. More so, it’s one of the reasons why I can’t really have friends.
The first thing I don’t want anyone to know is that when I leave the grounds on Saturdays and Sundays, I leave with a duffle bag full of clothes. Specifically, girl’s clothes. More precisely, they belong to me. What I mean is that I change into them.
To clear this up, I like wearing girl’s clothes. Even more I like to wear them in public where everyone can see me. I go to the mall, by myself, and wander around. I like going to stores and trying on clothes I can’t buy.
Best of all, I like playing the piano that’s at the center of a mall. I like playing there, as if I am on a stage in a music hall and playing for an audience. I love playing Beethoven and Mozart and everyone applaudes that this young girl can play so well. I get compliments from so many people.
If I did this as myself, i wouldn’t be able to handle the attention. Around me aren’t just strangers, my classmates are here in their groups but they don’t recognize me at all. All anyone sees is a young girl in a cute outfit playing classical music so very well.
I take myself to music stores and play on pianos and wow the staff and other patrons. I practice some of my project music. Occasionally, I buy some clothes, some sheet music from used bookstores.
Before long, I find a place to change, usually a public pool with a family changing room, and go back to the school. I do much the same thing on Sunday as well. For the most part, this has been my routine for quite a long time.
However, one Sunday evening when I came back to my floor, things took and interestingly bad turn for me. There is a room, next to mine I pass everyday. Empty everyday save for this particular evening. This evening someone moves in. This evening, I see the face of someone who make me realize something I didn’t really think about before.
My entire routine is out the window when I stop at the door and introduce myself as Percival while I carry a duffle bag full of contraband I can’t afford anyone to get curious about.
The second thing I don’t want anyone to know about is that I think I might be gay.
Percival goes to an all boys boarding school. He also has a confession to make.