Chapter 13: Past, Present and Music
Funny, but I've never actually been on the university campus, despite living and working in its proximity for years. It was charming in a vintage, grandiose sort of way, with old buildings giving way to slick modern structures. The classes were over, but it was still boiling with life. I couldn't help but cast sidelong looks on students and occasional faculty members hurrying by. They were all so... unburdened. I felt like I have teleported to an alien planet, one which I wasn't allowed to visit.
This feeling of alienation only grew stronger once I stepped inside one of the buildings. On a usual day, I felt pretty comfortable about who I was and how I looked. But now I became painfully aware of how cheap my clothes were, and how pedestrian I must have looked to these young people, who were seemingly all sporting elaborate tattoos, piercings, had shaved temples and carried themselves with an aura of expensive down-to-earthiness.
I had to murmur to myself 'tall, dark and handsome' three times on my way to the lecture hall where Claire and other guys were waiting for me.
'Hey Matt!'
Claire was sitting on a white plastic chair, with her stretched legs on top of a bulky speaker of some sort, with a can of soda in her hand. Nelly was standing beside her, tuning a beautiful electric guitar. Dylan and Ted were talking in a corner and waved when I came in.
The lecture hall turned out to be a circular auditorium filled with different musical instruments. It was far larger than I expected, too, and seemed to be soundproofed.
'What is if this place?'
'University's music center. We got a time slot thanks to Mr. Fine Arts here, - Claire pointed her soda in the direction of Dylan. - Not exactly a garage, huh?'
It wasn't. In the bright light of fluorescent lamps the place looked classy, and so did the guys. They looked like they belonged here. But I didn't, which begged the question: what was I doing in their company? Why had they invited me into their close-knitted group? Was it genuine sympathy, or some sort of sick fascination? University kids didn't usually mix up with poor, working-class people like me.
Not to mention that they were human, and I was not.
Dylan and Ted headed toward us.