AN: This seemed timely, given it's nearing the end of the year and what not for people.
Goodbye (post-The Line Up, B/T)
"B, come on."
"But..." I knew this day would come. It had to. From the day my senior year started, this moment had only been a matter of time. Still, in spite of everything that was changing, that I had to end, leaving Stewie, my beloved snare behind was one of the most difficult things I had ever had to do. When no one else was there for me, this inanimate object provided me with more support than most people would ever guess. Sure, I knew there were countless pictures which prominently figured him, that he was going to a safe home, but I couldn't seem to let go. He was always there for me - ever ready to sound out a crisp note, a perfect roll, or a stinging rim shot.
"Izzo says you can come back and visit any time you want."
"I'm being silly."I looked away from my boyfriend, trying not to show the unshed tears in my eyes. I was 18 years old, almost a high school graduate, the former Captain of one of the best drumlines in the country. Why should I be crying over an instrument?
Tony took my hand and said, "No, you're not. I know this can't be easy for you. I'll give you a few minutes alone."
He left the percussion room without a sound, silently closing the door behind him.
I wanted to say something, but words stuck in my throat.
I knew Stewie would understand. The reality was, he would always have a special place in my high school memories. We had spent hours literally attached together - practices, competitions, class, pep rallies...
Leaning down, I ran my hand over the clean snare head, the worn letters of the Pearl logo and walked out of the room.