Ballet is really lame. That's all Pavel can think every time he goes to the theater and sees the anorexic twits jumping around on stage like scrawny birds that have been plucked. Papa said that the Russian Ballet was the best in the world but (and he wouldn't dare admit this) Pavel would much rather be at the rock concert next door. Head banging and drunkenly singing along with the songs would be so much more fun than sitting between his parents, wondering how much longer this ballet is going to last.
But he's going to Starfleet Academy next month so maybe getting drunk wouldn't be such a great idea. He's not sure what his major will be but he knows it'll involve math so killing off brain cells is a big no. The only reason he's been accepted is because he can solve advanced Calculus problems in under two minutes at the age of twelve.
"You're test scores are off the charts, Mr. Chekov." The admissions officer is talking to him instead of his father. It's refreshing. "I'm curious, what do you like to do for fun? How do you relax?"
"I like to go roller skating and listen to rock. Oh, and this." He pulls a yo-yo out of his pocket and shows her the neat trick he just learned. Old fashioned toys are making a come back in Russia and he beams up at her, completely oblivious to how inane an answer that was.
"Can you walk the dog?" She asks, a grin spreading across her face.
He learns to walk the dog at the Academy and as time goes on, learns to walk the walk. By the time he's fifteen, he can solve those Calculus problems in forty-five seconds and he's a regular at the local indie rock scene. But as time goes on he feels the pressure to solve the problems in under thirty seconds and his major (cartography) takes up more and more time. By the time he's seventeen and a graduate he has no idea what the new bands are called and where they'll be playing. If asked he'd say he grew up and learned to concentrate on what's really important.
But the truth is he just doesn't have time for what's fun.
Fin.
Author's notes: Jailbait likes to headbang, whodathunkit?
The next chapter is a bonus, featuring an OC, Lt. Margaret 'Meg' O'Malley. Feel free to skip it if you want. She's just sort of shows up in all my ST stories and since I haven't found a way to get rid of her I figured I should explore the character a little. She's fun to write, but she is an OC, so if those aren't your thing just wait until I post Scotty's chapter.
Good news: I have a job. Real, employment, for which I thank the Lord. The good news is I can get out of the house and earn money with which I will help save the economy. The bad news is I will have less free time, so expect slower updates. Sorry.