Talent. That is the basis of every person’s being. A skill, a trait, an advantage that defines you. It is what reveals your purpose and highlights what your body and mind are exceptional at.

In fact, I’d go as far as to say it’s what gives you value as a human being. It’s your role. Your niche. Whether it be a sport, genius-level intellect or drawing, it’s what sets you apart. 

The thing that makes a person an actual contribution to society. It’s a source of pride, interest, and enjoyment.

It’s your worth.

But, what if you don’t know your talent?

What sets me apart? 

What gives me purpose?

I didn’t know the answers to these questions and because of that I questioned more things.

Mainly, was there a reason I was created? Or did I even have any value as a human being?

No. 

That was the answer I feared would be the truth.

Because naturally, that’d mean I’m a mistake, an individual who lacks any originality.

A failure.

Ah, but don’t worry about that though.

After all, these were just the random thoughts of some 15 year old who just got into high school a couple months ago.

Anyway, while I was pondering over these trivial matters, I was taking the bus to my high school.

Unfortunately, the seat I had sat on had cushions that were so stiff I would’ve preferred the seat without the cushion.

Still, the sound of cars zooming past and the chitter from civilians the bus drives by was somewhat soothing. It was so soothing in fact, that if I wasn't thinking, I might’ve fallen asleep.

‘Times like these make me curious. Curious about what it would be like to talk to someone about these things. How would the person feel? React? Or think? I wonder what they’d say? I guess they’d probably be confused or bored. After all,  these kinds of things aren’t really interesting to most people. Or maybe they are, I never really asked. Eh, it doesn't matter. There’s no point in thinking about pointless things like this’

I continued to fall deep into my thoughts and gazed out the window for a while.

Then, after some time passed, the bus stopped and let some passengers on, one of them being my best friend.

“Yo, Elliot, what’s up?” Tristan asked me, a small smile on his face. 

He had long black hair, smooth tan skin, brown eyes and was wearing the male version of our school uniform. But that didn’t matter. The important thing was that he had a smile on his face.

A very rare smile that I didn’t see often. 

The funny thing is, most people wouldn’t have noticed since his long black hair swaying around is pretty distracting. 

I had always wondered why he never cut it since I was pretty sure it was a pain to maintain and he hated pains. 

Although, I could’ve been wrong. My hair was always a lot shorter so I didn’t know much about long hair.

Oh yeah, if you haven’t noticed already my name is Elliot. It’s not a particularly interesting name but I was fine with it. Although, I did wish my parents didn’t pick such a popular name for me. Some individuality would’ve been nice.

Tristan and I had a pretty trivial conversation. It’s not like we really discussed anything of importance, it was just small talk. Every once in a while, some other students from my school entered the bus but I didn’t know any of them personally.

After about 15 minutes, Tristan and I reached our stop and we both got off the bus.

Just as I got off, the subtle winds blew onto my face, relaxing any tension in my body.

It was only a short journey to the school, so while we walked I admired the autumn leaves that had fallen off their trees.

Soon we arrived and when we did, I instantly remembered why I applied.

Our high school was known as Laxus Flare Academy. Considered by many to be the second best high school in America academics wise.

The school building was literally beautiful with gray steel walls and a gold symbol on top of the entrance doors. The light gleamed in a way that almost made the experience somewhat magical.

It always made me think how an idiot like me got into such a good school.

Anyway, we entered the building like usual and we made our way to the cafeteria. The cafeteria looked clean and nice as well and definitely not like your average American high school. 

Although, that’s kinda dumb for me to say since it was the second best high school in America.

Tristan and I sat down and continued our conversation from earlier.

“I’m telling you, if we blew up half the earth, all the problems would be solved. World hunger, overpopulation, poverty, and the list goes on,” I said to him in the most convincing tone I could muster.

“And I’m telling you, I don’t care. Your idea is stupid and humanity would bring those problems back one way or another,” He responded in a pretty calm manner.

“What? You’re such a buzzkill.” 

And while we were having our very important discussion, a message was played through the intercom.

“All students, the school day has started, please go to your first period class.” 

Once we heard that message, I groaned. 

All of the students stood and headed to their first period classes. 

Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the same first period class as Tristian so I reluctantly said my goodbye.

Tristan did the same, although he seemed a bit less reluctant and a lot more indifferent.

My first period class was physical education. A class I generally would’ve liked but hated when I had it at 8:00 am in the morning.

Sure, it woke me up, but in exchange it caused me irreparable exhaustion.

On the good side, it wasn't a super stressful period. Once we finished our warm up, we just began learning the basics of baseball, which clashed horribly with my poor hand eye coordination.

It was only towards the end of the period, we got to my favorite part of class…

The three laps of running.

By the time class ended, my muscles were aching a tiny bit.

I lazily checked my schedule to see that I had a slightly boring lineup. 

‘What a pain…’

It seemed I had a day full of boring equations and science lectures, as usual.

After I barely survived listening to Mr. Bostav's boring science lectures and sketching a design for a sneaker in art, it was finally time for mathematics. 

I didn’t really mind since I didn’t think math isn’t a terrible subject. I found that it was actually really cool when you understood it…but 90% of the time you don’t understand what’s going on which is why it makes you want to die.

I decided to help my friend, a girl named Aurora, who wasn’t the brightest when it comes to academics. In fact, I had no clue how she even got into this school.

But it wasn't like she couldn't do the work. It was just that she just got bored so easily that she doesn’t even bother trying to learn anything. Although, she was very popular, probably at least one 5 most popular students among the freshmen.

“How do you have the motivation to do all this crap? It’s so boring,” She said, hitting her head to the table in defeat.

“I just don’t wanna fail. But I don’t blame you. If I was a moron like you, I’d give up too. Thankfully, unlike you, I have at least some semblance of a brain.”

My reply ticked her off though so she turned her head slightly to me.

“Screw you.” She said with a scowl before turning her head back.

When she did, I took a moment to glance at her.

She had brown hair with green highlights and wore the female school uniform which was a blue shirt and skirt. Additionally, she had a green butterfly hair pin in her hair.

Honestly, she was pretty.

‘Even though annoying her is fun, I should probably get back to work.’

Turning back to my paper, I began to complete my assignment for the rest of the period.

After that, the period passed by quickly so it was time for lunch.

Once I arrived at the cafeteria, I went to sit with Tristan and our other friend, Nishimoya.

Nishimoya was an eccentric black haired girl with bright blue eyes.

Usually she’d be the first one to school since she’s the kind of person to always be early to everything. So I was pretty confused as to why she wasn’t there this morning.

“Hi guys!” Nishimoya greeted me.

“Hey Nishimoya. Where were you this morning?” I asked her casually.

“Oh yeah, now that I think about it…I don’t remember seeing you either.” Tristan added.

“I got hit by a bus.” Nishimoya said calmly.

“What!?” I exclaimed, spitting out the juice I was taking a sip of.

“Are you okay?!” I questioned her with a mix of concern and confusion in my voice.

“Yeah I’m fine, the bus was going pretty slow so I’m alright. I might be limping a bit for the rest of the week though,” She said while scratching the back of her head embarrassingly.

“You’re an idiot,” Tristan retorted.

‘Nishimoya never fails to impress me no matter what she does. How does a person even become like that?’

In hindsight, I shouldn’t have been that surprised. After all these were the kind of shenanigans Nishimoya gets involved in.

For the rest of lunch we all just talked and made jokes. Plus the occasional question about the bus hitting Nishimoya.

My next period was English which was a pretty relaxing class.

However, the class I was really looking forward to was coding which I picked as an elective.

And it was really fun, and I enjoyed it a lot, so much so that I forgot what my final period was.

But when the class, and the fun, finally ended, I remembered that I had social studies for my last period.

And in social studies, I had to give a speech on the documented experiences of slaves being transported on ships and the terrible living conditions they endured 

The only problem was that I hated public speaking. Even before it was time for me to present, I had already noticed an uncomfortable churn in my stomach.

And then I heard those words.

“It is time for Elliot’s presentation.” Ms Marvel said.

I get in front of the class and then I feel like I’m starting to shake. I read my speech paper by hand, word by word. Then, I stutter a bit. 

‘I’m okay…it was just one time. No need to freak out…’

I stuttered again. 

‘Damn it…’

I got through another 2 sentences and then stuttered once again.

‘Why me…’

Full of dismay, I kept on speaking. If I didn’t, there was nothing else I could do.

‘This sucks…I can’t get my stuttering under control…’

Finally, I finished and my time of looking like an idiot came to an end. But I still felt like a complete and utter failure.

“Can I go use the bathroom?” I asked our teacher.

“Yes, you can.” She responded.

I walked out the room and just began wandering. I knew it was dumb. Definitely not how a good student should act, especially not one from a school like that one, but I was already a failure of a student. After all, I couldn’t even say one speech properly. 

‘Why is this hard for me? Why is it so difficult for me to say such simple things? It’s so simple for other people, so why couldn’t it be that way for me?’

Thoughts like those continued to race through my mind. 

My body trembled, filled with frustration.

But then, right in the middle of my thoughts, I heard something.

I heard… a song being played.

It had a beautiful melody that made you want to hum along. One that relaxed you into a state of pure bliss. 

One that motivated you to be better.

Every note seemed to be collected into one. Like multiple streams leading to one waterfall.

The waterfall that took all that pressure, all those flowing streams, was strong like no other.

Such a song, such a feeling, was so foreign.

Hearing that, I knew I had to find it. The source of such a magnificently played song.

I walked to each room, the sound getting louder and louder until I stood in front of the music studio. 

‘Oh, of course the music was playing from the music studio — that’s its whole purpose.’

I opened the door to see…her. A girl that looked to be my age, playing on the piano a song that was almost as beautiful as her.

Her long blonde hair was almost glowing as the light peeking in through the window glistens on every strand. Sweat slowly dripped from her pale skin and onto the piano with every movement. Her hands lightly grazed across the keys as she played one note to the next.

And then she stopped, and turned her head to face me. Her amethyst eyes seemingly peering into my soul.

“Who are you?”