+ Emmy Acero + Daydreams. What did he daydream about? And how did he daydream? In colours? In sounds? Or fully thought out "movies"?
♪ People say that wishes are the path to freedom
See the stars a-shining, Honey; you could be one
But pipe dreams flush away
And in the cold grey light of day
They expire ♪
The lyrics drift through Emmy's headphones as he lays sprawled on the floor of his new, empty dorm. College; all he could see was a new prison with new tormentors. Why even bother going to orientation? No, the time was better spent here, on the floor, procrastinating instead of unpacking. It's not like he had a roommate to inconvenience. Dad probably paid someone to 'conveniently' leave the other set of barren furniture in the room unassigned.
The only saving grace was knowing he was no longer under his dad's roof. No lectures over dinner, no squealing toddler, no constant renovation noises to keep him up during the day... The young man's eyes close. Silver lining. Bright side. That's the only way you're gonna keep from losing your goddamn mind here. Sure, you're probably gonna fail every single class like the dumbass you are, but think of all that free time you'll have once they stop expecting you to show up?
♪ ‘Cause I’m trying to project a sunny disposition
But it’s hard to paint a smile on wasted young ambition
And every day’s another little grain of sand lost to the mists of time
'Cause if I can’t make it, then what’s the point?
If my whole damn life is set to disappoint
Well I guess there’s nothing left to do but smile, so smile ♪
The hard carpet and cinderblock walls of the dorm begin to fade, replaced with grungy brick and old, heavily lacquered hardwood. A poorly lit, but cozy stage and a faceless crowd. They're all watching as Emmy strums an acoustic guitar and sings into a lone microphone. People in the crowd are holding up phones and lighters, some are clapping along in time to his tapping foot and the air is electric. Mint and rum cling to his breath as he sings and sways tipsily with the rhythm.
Here, he could be anyone. None of that rich boy expectation nonsense or reputation bullshit. He could just be. Emmy pushes off from the wobbly stool, stands, and puts his whole chest into his vocals. His voice carries all the way to the back of the bar and the crowd whoops and hollers.
And in the midst of his performance, he locks eyes with someone reclining on the bar and knows, just knows, this person will be waiting for him after the show. Yeah... they're always waiting for him after the show. But... he can't see the color of their eyes or how they wear their hair...or... anything about them. And it's there the illusion breaks. The crowd fades. The sounds and scents distort, then vanish entirely.
♪ Well if this is all that ever will be, that’s okay
But there’s no damn noise left to drown out
The sound of the petals that sigh as they’re falling away ♪
All that's left is the darkness and the melody from his headphones. Emmy sits up from the floor and scoots until he can prop himself up against a chest of drawers. He refuses to open his eyes in hopes the daydream he was enjoying will come back and he can find that mystery lover in the crowd. Instead, he's only met with more darkness and lyrics that practically mock him.
♪ ‘Cause it’s tough to be a dreamer when they don’t come true
Nothing seems to happen and you can’t break through
Feel like your blossoming is overdue
And you realize no one’s gonna give the world to you
Well ain’t no use in crying, Darling, so they say
Find a thing you love to do and make it pay
Nothing you accomplish matters anyway
So all that really counts is how you live today ♪