I need to branch out and write some angst with someone other than Usnavi...
Usnavi had planned his entire life out by the time he was nine. It had been a fun thing to do back then, building castles in his imagination and sharing made-up tales with his friends. He would pretend he was far away from the apartment he shared with his mami and papi, pretend that Abuela Claudia's flat was really a mansion, that his street was paved with black concrete.
He and Benny and Lincoln had written everything down once, planning their lives out to the very last detail. Usnavi remembered how he and Benny had laughed at Lincoln when he knew the exact shade of purple his tie would be at his wedding. Lincoln, in his turn, had laughed at Benny and Usnavi when they both announced that the Rangers would win the Stanley Cup against the Islanders on they day they would get married.
Rummaging through the boxes in the bodega one day, Usnavi came across one that held some of his childhood belongings. Curious, he emptied it in a circle around him on the floor, wondering when his mother and father would have had the time to choose these things and pack them away. It was with a shock of surprise that he recognized his life plan that he had written over five years ago, when life was just a game.
I'm gonna marry a model, he had written in his untidy hand, which made him stifle a laugh. And we're not gonna have no kids, because I don't wanna waste no money. Usnavi ran a finger over the words, trying to remember the day he had written them and realizing that he could not.
Me and Benny and Link are gonna live in three big castles, but mine's gonna be the biggest because I'll be richest. I'm gonna graduate high school with all A-pluses and then do the same at a big fancy college. Then I'm gonna get me a job as a CEO at a ginormous company.
Usnavi wasn't quite sure how he had figured out what a CEO was at such a young age. He supposed that he had asked Abuela or Uncle Kevin or even his own father who got paid the most. It was almost ironic, in a cruel sense, that he was finding this naïve outline of his life now, after life had chewed him up and spat him back out covered in his own misery.
Seized with an anger that seemed to come out of nowhere, Usnavi snatched up the paper that bore his clumsy handwriting and, kicking the empty box on his way, entered the bodega, surprising the man at the counter very much. Has Usnavi been paying attention, he would have noticed that the man hastily stuffed a magazine back into the rack, but his one-track mind noticed only the chipped coffee cup that held pens and pencils found on the floor at then end of the day during clean-up.
Grabbing a pencil at random, Usnavi began crossing out the words on the paper with heavy black lines. The tip splintered, making him frown and toss the pencil aside, not caring where it landed. Choosing a pen instead, Usnavi began writing at the bottom of the piece of paper, significantly altering his life's plan.
By the time I am sixteen, I will be a high school dropout and the owner of my own bodega. I want to get married someday and have at least five kids. One of them will go on to achieve great things.
Usnavi then ripped up the paper, the pieces scattering on the floor when his angry footfalls carried him back into the back room. He packed up the box, barely noticing what he was putting back in it, before going back out into the bodega. He remained in a foul mood for the rest of the day, only perking up when Benny and Lincoln came to visit later in the afternoon.
((Script))