“How many times do I have to say it, Sheridon? We cannot make a music video using anything by ICP!” S exclaimed.

The argument had been going on for nearly two hours, and all they had managed to do was repeat the same thoughts over and over. All four young adults were irritated with each other, and none of them wanted to give in to the others’ ideas.

“Why not?” Sheridon asked. “It’s something no one else will think to do.”

“Yeah, and then they’ll cart us out of here in straightjackets,” Gideon responded. “We should do something more… y’know…”

“Mainstream,” Cy spoke up.

Sheridon rolled his eyes. “Like you’re ever one to be concerned about being mainstream,” he muttered.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Just saying, you’re not exactly mainstream to begin with,” Sheridon said slowly.

“Like you’re one to talk. You’re multiple minorities-- part of less than 10% of the population and left-handed,” Cy shot back.

“Relax, please. Look, let’s do something people will like but won’t think of,” S said, breaking in. “Like, something by Ozzy.”

“Ugh, I hate Ozzy,” Gideon groaned.

“Yeah. Besides, he’s, like, a million years old,” Sheridon replied.

“And doing something by a band that has songs about murder and all kinds of other disturbing stuff is a better choice?” Cy asked.

“You’re talking like the bands you like are so pure,” Sheridon snapped. “I mean, the stuff by HIM is pretty damn weird.”

“Which is why I don’t plan on using anything by that band. I know that not everyone is going to appreciate or enjoy it,” Cy replied.

“Look, I’m doing an ICP music video, and that’s final,” Sheridon snapped.

“Well, fine. I want to do a Nickelback music video,” Cy yelled back. “And I’m not going to work on your music video.”

“Well, I’m not going to work on your video either!”

“I don’t want to do anything by ICP or Nickelback,” Gideon spoke up. “S, are you up for doing something by Queen?”

“No thanks, dude,” S replied. “I’ve kind of got my heart set on an Ozzy song.”

“Fine, fine,” Gideon said angrily. “Let’s all just work on our own damn music videos for class. But I’m not helping any of you.”

“Same here,” Sheridon snapped.

“Ditto,” Cy replied, glaring at Sheridon.


Why do I have such disagreeable friends? S thought. He looked down at the table, where the directions for the class project were.

Music videos are often used as a form of storytelling, as a way for musicians to present visual representations of their work. But all too often, music videos nowadays have very little to do with the song in question, often showing the band performing or other such unrelated material.

You are to take a song of your choice and create a music video related to the song. There is to be no nudity in the videos. Also, no music videos may be created using clips from existing visual works (movies, television, etc.). Before making the video, you are to bring a copy of the song, along with the lyrics, to the instructor, to have it approved. You may work solo or in groups of no more than five. The deadline for the assignment will be…

S sighed and walked up to his room, paper in hand. He had a lot of planning to do. Even from his room, he could still hear Cy, Sheridon, and Gideon yelling at each other. He hoped there wouldn’t be too many dishes broken this time. Last time they’d had a fight like this, they’d all had to eat off of paper plates for nearly two weeks, as there was only one dish left intact.

He turned on his computer and signed on to the internet. “Better check my e-mail,” he muttered. His eyes widened when he saw the new e-mail. “It’s the audition results!”


“Thanks, Mr. Rivers!” Emily called, as she walked out of the classroom. Turned in my entry, she thought. I am awesome. And on top of that, I’m Jemima in the play. Maybe not the biggest role, but it’s pretty decent. I totally rock!

She turned her head, just to see Ophelia heading over, holding a piece of paper.

“Hello,” Ophelia greeted Emily.

“Hi,” Emily mumbled, looking away.

“Well, I just received some great news,” Ophelia said cheerily. “The audition results.”

“Yeah, what about ‘em?” Emily asked. “I already know I’m Jemima; S called me this morning to tell me, since my internet‘s been down. And why did you get sent information on it?”

“Read it and weep,” Ophelia replied, handing Emily the paper.

Emily scanned the page. “Mark Van Dreissant, Mungojerrie. Samuel Verona, Munkustrap…” She looked up. “Cool, S got a really good role.”

“Keep reading,” Ophelia said, rolling her eyes.

“Fine, fine,” Emily muttered. “Jade Dubroca, Demeter. Eli Robertson, Rum Tum Tugger. Tacita--” Emily looked up. “Cool, Tacita’s Bombalurina. Great choice there.”

“Yeah, I know. Keep reading.”

“Emily Desjardin, Jemima. Ophelia Foley, Grizabella.” Emily looked up. “What?!”

“Awesome, isn’t it?” Ophelia said with a grin.


“Awesome?” Emily repeated, infuriated.

“Yeah! We're going to be in the play together! I can’t believe I got a part in the musical. And one of the major roles, to boot!”

“Because you interrupted my audition!” Emily snapped. “You didn’t even get it legitimately!”

“Technically, they did audition me,” Ophelia replied.

“Yeah, while they were supposed to be paying attention to me!”

“I don’t get what you’re so worked up about,” Ophelia said. “I mean, you got a part, right?”

“You are missing the point entirely!” Emily yelled. Everyone in the hallway quieted and turned to stare. Ophelia’s eyes widened at how loudly Emily had yelled.

“Everyone’s looking,” Ophelia said quietly.

“Good,” Emily said sharply. “Let them. By the way, Ophelia… I wanted to let you know personally.”

“Know what?”

“Guess who just entered work into the art competition. The art competition you've been going on about for so many weeks and have had your heart set on winning a prize in.”

“Oh, now you’ve gone too far. Why did you have to go and do that?”

“Don’t think I’m making such a big deal anymore, huh?” Emily replied, smirking.

“You've known for weeks that I’ve been planning to enter it!” Ophelia exclaimed. “I’ve been working on the painting for over a month!”

“Well, you can still enter it,” Emily responded.

“Yeah, but you knew how important this was to me! I didn’t think I’d be up against you!”

“Well, I didn’t think I’d be up against you either, so that makes us about even.”


A firm hand grabbed both of them sharply by the shoulder. They looked up in unison to see Ms. Gibson, looking furious. “You girls are making far too much noise!” she said angrily, leading them into her classroom. “Sit down.”

Ophelia and Emily sat down, on opposite sides of the room. Ms. Gibson glared at them.

“Well, I don’t need to ask what the fight is about, since you two were being so damn loud, everyone and their grandma heard it,” Ms. Gibson began. “But I am stunned that you two are fighting over such things, and just when I was sure that you were more mature than the majority of the students at the school.”

“But--” Ophelia began.

“No buts. I am not condoning the actions of either one of you. Ophelia, you should have just left the room after you did what you needed to, rather than showing up Emily, even if you didn’t intend to. It makes you look like you're self-absorbed and crave more than your share of attention. And Emily, entering a contest simply to anger someone or try to one-up them is a foolish idea. It only makes you look stupid.” She scowled. “Now, I don’t expect you two to make up, but I do expect you two to treat each other in a reasonably civil manner while at school.” Ophelia and Emily lowered their heads, in apparent shame. “You are excused. And next time you two have a fight like that, I’m giving you both detention.”


Ophelia and Emily nodded, then rose and headed to the classroom door. After they were out of the classroom, Ophelia glanced over at Emily and whispered, “May the best woman win. But at least I’m not part of the chorus in the play.”

“At least I’m not playing an old lady cat who only appears a couple of times,” Emily whispered back fiercely.

“At least I get multiple solos in the play.”

“Yeah, but at least in the play, I get seen more and have a nicer-looking costume, instead of looking like a bag lady.”

They glared at each other for a few seconds, then turned sharply away from each other and headed in opposite directions.