The Places I've Cried in Public by Holly Bourne

He’d turned back to his band. “I still think we should open on ‘Welcome
To Nowhere’,” he said, with that quiet authority that would turn out to be
the undoing of me.
“Yeah, but, Reese, we agreed on—”
He smiled as he cut his band mate off with his hand. “Dude, we’re
supposed to be rock ‘n’ roll, chill the hell out. We can mix up the set list.
We’ve got ten whole minutes to play with, and it’s not like we’re going to
get detention.” The rest of them laughed reluctantly and I watched his
smile, before Mrs Clarke distracted me again with enthusiastic questions
about my own songwriting process.
Now how I wish I’d just walked out of that room
and kept walking, walking, walking. But I didn’t.
Instead I made my way back into the refectory, found
Jack and Hannah, let Jack pour a hefty amount of
vodka into my Coke, and continued down this path of
destruction.
You never know at the time, do you? You can
never know if a moment is going to make your life
better or rip it apart and piss on the pieces. What
scares me most of all, Reese, is that now, back in this
stuffy refectory, with my soul sucked dry and my
heart beyond repair…I…I…
I still worry I’d do it all over again.
What have you done to me, Reese?
The talent show opened with a beatboxer who went on a bit too long.
We found Liv in the crush – she was with a bunch of new friends from her