Hello, I haven't updated to this site with a story in years! Well now I'm in college and I wrote this for my Literary Imagination class. I liked it so much that I thought I'd share it!

Cameron stared down into the last few drops of amber liquid sitting at the bottom of his glass. Around him he could hear grunts and shouts as men chugged their beers with glee; he let out a heavy sigh as he threw back his head to drink the last few drops. It had been a rough week at work for him. His boss, John, was usually a nice man but Cameron had seen glimpses of his horrible temper through the big glass walls of his office; apparently he had made his last secretary run out crying. Cameron had heard that she didn't even have the courage to come into the office and quit. Instead she had called in to say she was never coming back to work. Multiple times, while glancing through the glass walls of John's office, Cameron had observed him having heated conversations on the phone.

Cameron had never directly experienced John's sudden temper, but one day he happened to be in John's office at the wrong time. Every morning John had an espresso, so Cameron had ordered and picked up his boss' drink just like any other Wednesday morning. When Cameron arrived at the office he quietly entered and set the cup on the desk as his boss barked into his blackberry. But Cameron paid it no mind; he assumed it was just an extremely difficult client. As Cameron turned to exit he saw John take a sip of his drink. The next sequence of events occurred in a matter of seconds, and the result was because of one misstep. Cameron heard a faint grunt and then an angry smack on the linoleum floor behind him. He felt his feet fall out from underneath him and then the ceiling was swimming in and out of focus as he lay on the floor.

"That gold-digging whore." John bellowed at the top of his lungs. Cameron felt the hot liquid seeping into his new pants his mom had just bought him. He could hear his boss muttering beneath his breath as he fumed behind his desk.

"2000,000 dollars…..platinum card….Gucci….."John muttered under his breath as he slammed the drawers in his desk. Cameron stayed there lying on the floor as the scalding liquid further soiled his pants and left his butt feeling extremely wrong and raw. His arms and legs felt heavy and sluggish as he tried to stand, slipping all over the hot coffee splashed across the floor. After much difficulty, he was up on his feet, but he felt a small pain forming on his butt. John looked up in surprise as Cameron stood before his desk.

"Oh, what do you want?" John said with a slight gruffness.

"Nothing, sir, just slipped in some coffee." Cameron said, stealthily reaching back to rub his bruising butt.

"Well….call someone to clean it up then." His boss looked away, obviously embarrassed, but too proud to admit he was wrong. Cameron just nodded, trying not to look as pained as he felt.

"Yes sir." Cameron said as he held back a grimace. He tried to run out of the office but proceeded to waddle to the bathroom. Cameron stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom trying to examine his backside. He could see that the entire seat of his pants was soaked through; he was sure this stain was not going to come out.

He tried to cautiously walk back to his desk to grab his gym bag so he could change into gym shorts. The only clean thing he could find were some old shorts that were two sizes too small. He eyed the shorts. He had a choice between wearing his sweat-stained and stinky shorts that actually fit him or the tight and very uncomfortable looking shorts in his hand. With a sigh he slowly unzipped his pants, and tried to slip the terribly tight shorts over his legs. With much jumping and squeezing he managed to fit into them, they stretched oddly across his butt and caused him to bulge in places he didn't even know could bulge. The rest of the day people made snide comments, most of them aimed at his sexuality. But that wasn't the worst of Cameron's luck. Whenever he would try to move his legs to walk he could feel a sharp stinging sensation in his butt that alluded to bruising and burning; this made it very difficult for him to properly walk. He looked like a confused penguin as he waddled down the halls of the office the rest of the day.

Even two days later as he cradled the bottle of beer in between his palms, it still was uncomfortable to sit for too long. He had gone to the doctor and they told him, that along with very minor burns, he had a bruised tailbone. Every time Cameron felt uncomfortable sitting he would stand up and cheer at the football game playing on the TV screen located at the far side of bar. He didn't care whether the Ravens or the Packers won, but it seemed more natural than him standing and sitting randomly. He hadn't even called his best friend Mitch to join him for drinks; instead he sat in a small booth that was tucked into the corner of the room and drank two beers alone. He drank just enough to make his head slightly fuzzy but if the time came, he was certain he could act with complete clarity. Slowly, a slight stinging sensation spread throughout his butt, it had been a while since he stood up but he just wanted to remain sitting. All he wanted was to be able to sit for longer than fifteen minutes. He heard some cheering to the right of him; that was his cue. He looked up at the screen. The Ravens had just scored a touchdown, he sprang up, almost whacking his head.

"Woooo! GOOOOOO RAVENS!" He bellowed, ignoring the sore feeling already forming in his throat from the incessant cheering he had been doing that night. Cameron chest bumped a guy two tables over; he had never met the man in his life. His hands were red and sore from this continual clapping and slapping men on the back. These male rituals started to wear on his patience; normally he loved a couple of beers and a good game, even if the teams were of no consequence. It helped him relax, unwind. But tonight, he just wanted to crawl into bed and never leave as the events of that week were bringing him to his limit. Cameron walked over to the bar and ordered another beer. He was still in pain, which signaled that it wasn't quite time to sit back down yet. After he paid for his third drink, he felt ready to sit again. However, as he walked across the room, a shiny gleam of mahogany caught his eye.

Up on a small raised platform sat a dark brown Yamaha piano; he stopped to stare at the beautiful work of craftsmanship. It was no Steinbach but Yamaha's were definitely one of the best brands for their price range. He climbed the flimsy steps to the black-floored stage and gingerly sat down. He slowly pulled back the lid and the pearl-white keys shone bright from the lights above. A swell of something strange but familiar filled his chest. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this happy. Softly he placed his hands in the correct position but didn't play. He sat there, rubbing the keys slightly with the pads of his fingers. He remembered how his parents had screamed and thrown a fit when he had announced that he was getting his degree in music. But it was what he loved, and life was about doing what a person loved. He had spent four years immersed in bass clefts, half notes, double bars but after he graduated he felt lost and confused. He couldn't live on small side jobs playing at a clubs once or twice a week. It was too unsteady of income with more risk than he was willing to take.

He sighed and gave into the pressing urgency, a sense of anticipation hit as he sucked in a big breath and put pressure on the keys. Cameron decided to play a simple song, Fur Elise, but the melodious notes entered his ears as he drifted off to the past where it had only been him and the music. All he had had to worry about back in school was his next examination or when he should practice. Now he had to deal with a bi-polar boss that threw coffee on the floor. His hands hovered over the last few notes ready to finish off the song, when he heard a harsh shout from his left.

"Get off of that piano." The gruff bartender approached Cameron threateningly fast. He withdrew his hands to escape the fast-closing lid as the bartender slammed the piano shut.

"You're not allowed to play that." He grunted as he prodded and pushed Cameron to get up off the stage.

"Sorry." Cameron mumbled as he let himself be led away. For some reason he didn't feel like draining his sorrows in stale alcohol anymore. He grabbed his jacket and full-on waddled out the door. The cloudiness had slightly cleared from his head, but he still wasn't entirely sure what to do next. He had been sitting inside a warm and raucous bar just a couple of minutes ago but now he was in the soundless frigid mid-January air.

Cameron fumbled for his car keys. He couldn't remember if he had put them in his pants pocket or his jacket pocket. He was having problems with the buttons on his coat and struggled with it until he eventually sobered up enough to recall how to properly unbutton something. The keys were hiding in the farthest corner of the pocket. He plucked them out and now he had another challenge. Where was his car exactly? He looked around squinting through the dark to try and see any sign of the miniature vehicle but he was a little unsteady on his feet because of the pain in his butt and the liquid in his blood. He then noticed a light blue glint to his left. He zig zagged across the asphalt and came very close to kissing the gravel more than once. His waddle didn't take him anywhere fast, and it took him ten minutes to locate his new car being obscured behind a big pickup.

Even the sight of his new car didn't help him forget the constant pain in his butt because it was inevitable that he would have to sit down to drive. It was just the way things worked, it was physically impossible to drive standing up, he had tried. He took a break and leaned against the hood of the car. The sound that the vehicle made as he put his full weight on it was not reassuring. The car had sounded like a good idea when the sales man had pitched it to him, but it could just have been his tendency to fall for a well said sales pitch. Once he had been shopping at the mall and had been convinced to buy an electric pooper scooper for a dog. The thing was he didn't have a dog; he was actually severely allergic to pets. But it had looked so good on the cart and the sales woman had assured him it could be used for more than just doggy doo doo. He had believed her and had only realized his mistake when he arrived home and had unpacked the unfortunate purchase. He was starting to think that the purchase of this car was just like that electronic pooper scooper.

It had seemed like a good deal though, the Nano was supposedly the cheapest car in the world! And money was not something he had in abundance. So he had ended up buying a car that looked like a smart car with four doors. He remembered when he had driven to his best friend Mitch's house and had been laughed at for the rest of the afternoon. But the cute compactness of the vehicle was growing on him; he didn't need a macho SUV or an ordinary sedan. He was extraordinary because he owned the cheapest car in the world!

Cameron unlocked the car and eased himself into the driver's seat, careful not to bump anything on the way in. Once he was situated he lightly slapped his cheeks with both hands. Yeah, he was sober enough to drive. He twisted the keys in the ignition, the fast and fleeting notes of Chopin's Revolutionary Etude filled the whole car. He jumped in surprise; he forgot that he had had that playing on the way over. The intense compositions sounded especially clear coming out of the new stereo system he had just installed last week. The cheapest car in the world didn't come with Bose. His finger hovered over the button to switch to the radio but decided against it. He could rock out to some quick piano playing. As he drove down the deserted road he played his steering wheel like that beautiful mahogany piano back at the bar. He hardly paid attention to staying in his lane but the clock read two thirty in the morning and he doubted anyone was driving down this deserted community road.

The music built up into a crescendo and he tapped more intensely at the hard leather on the wheel. He even started moving his head in time. Cameron was so engrossed in his fun he didn't notice the slight burning smell that had started floating around the car. The last note was pounded and he ended his little show, but a scorching feeling slowly enveloping his upper arm. He quickly looked down and let out a very high-pitched and girly scream. Flames stretched out trying to reach him from the stereo system, a suffocating heat surrounded him. Smoke was slowly filling the cabin of the car; he coughed as he tried to clear his lungs. He swerved off to the side of the road as he saw an inferno starting to spread across the hood of his car. The clarity in his mind was expanding as he fumbled to unlock the car door, but the button wasn't working. He pounded repeatedly on the glass window. He started sputtering and coughing as the smoke filled his lungs, he looked down at the lock and realized in his panic that he had been repeatedly pressing the lock button and not the unlock button. He quickly slammed the button and opened the door into the welcoming chill of the winter air.

Cameron stared in disbelief as he watched the front half of his brand new car blaze away into oblivion. He stood in shock, still deciding whether he should cry or scream. He felt stiffness in his body as he kept his arms straight at his side and continued to stare at the surreal picture before him. The flames burned on, showing no signs of flickering or dying out. Was the universe just playing with him? Did it want to see how much he could take before he went completely insane and was dressed in a strait jacket, stuck behind four solid white walls? A gurgle made its way up his throat and cut through the stale air. Unwillingly, his body was racked with shakes and soreness in his belly as he doubled over and cackled uncontrollably. It was official; this was all he could take. He laughed until his sides hurt and his body convulsed as if he was having a seizure. To hell with it! If the universe wanted to mess with him then he didn't care. He was drunk, his car was a huge bonfire, and it was impossible to sit down with the state that his butt was in! The CD moved on to the next song and Chopin continued playing. Cameron threw his arms up and starting making circles around the fiery inferno.

"AHAHAHAHHAHA GIVE ME YOUR WORST!" He screeched to the stars up ahead as he did a little jig until he collapsed onto the grass, looking up into the clear dark night.