Quiet please

You'd think someone hard of hearing and having auditory processing problems would want to do things silently. That can be true in some cases, but for me? Nah, that's not how I roll.

I want to be loud. I love noise. It's what helps me sleep at night, sound is what keeps me going. Laughter, cheers, music and more. That's the whole reason why I got into doing the drums.

The drums? Out of all instruments, one of the loudest ones? Why, you might ask. It's simple, really.

If you've ever been to a live concert, there's always one instrument that sounds out to you the most. Some say it's the vocals, the bass or the trumpet. For me, it's the drums. It rattles my heart within my ribcage, the intense vibration shakes me to my core, and I adore it so.

Tapping the beat with my hands on the table constantly, or with my foot on the floor. My favorite ones being the simple but classic drumming rhythms, Billy Jean by Micheal Jackson or Back in Black by AC/DC.

Thanks to my teacher, within only four weeks of lessons so far, I've learned the basics easily without much practice. Mom didn't think I could pull it off so quickly, but I proved her wrong, a smug little smirk on my face when I did.

Maybe the reason I love noise is because I thrive during chaos, or perhaps it's because it drowns out other things I don't want to hear. For example, arguments. Nasty conflict that I hate being involved in, but it's inevitable and thankfully avoidable.

"Keep your hearing aid in! You'll go deaf if you don't." Mom always warned me about these kinds of things, but I didn't heed them all that much, even though I should have.

"I forgot." The lame excuse I use during Mom's excessive nagging. Last thing I want to be lectured on is that, especially when she doesn't listen either. Selective hearing, she likes to call it. With all due respect, that's pretty hypocritical, no?

How could I keep it in and stay silent when there's more chaos at home? I don't want to listen to that mess, the spewing of nonsense from those two. It bothers me like nothing else. Hiding away in my room to blast my music in hopes of being able to ignore it.

Sometimes I can take the time to appreciate the peaceful moments, the softer moments of serenity. Cherish it while it lasts, because if you blink, it'll all be gone.

In this moment though, I learned my lesson. The ringing in my ears gave me a deafening silence during the middle of the crowd's roaring ovation and cheers. My first performance, I was all nerves.

Excited mostly, but near the end, I completely lost my edge. The bright spotlight shines down on me and my bandmates, practically blinding me in the process.

Wide-eyed, breathing heavily in the back of the stage as my bandmates bow, waving to their friends and family with beaming smiles. I wanted to indulge in that with them, but I couldn't. I can't hear. It's too much. My thoughts swarm like angry wasps, my hands over my ears.

Too loud yet too quiet. I want to scream out, but nothing came, or so I thought. The vocalist flinches, turning to me, seeing the anguished expression on my face.

She takes me by the hand and drags me into the break room, pulling me into her warm embrace. Sobbing into her shoulder, I cling onto her for dear life, the ringing won't stop, the world is spinning and my vision is blurry from my tears. My brain throbs, like a jackhammer going against my skull.

Hyperventilating, trembling in her arms, sweating profusely with my cheeks flushed a crimson hue. Everything soon faded to black.

Is this the end? Am I dead? Did I die and go to heaven or hell? Maybe if by some miracle, I'm just in a coma? Those were the few of many, albeit dramatic questions in my mind, luckily none of them are the case.

Voices were indistinguishable. I couldn't tell who's who or what they're saying. My eyes flutter open and I'm surrounded by familiar faces.

My eyes immediately landed on the beloved vocalist. My best friend, and my crush. Even under the horrid fluorescent lighting, she's still as radiant as ever. "Are you an angel?" I murmur, reaching out and cupped her cheek with my calloused hand.

She laughs and shakes her head, "No. It's just your best friend, me." She points at herself, the corner of her lip tilts up slightly.

"Ah, I see. Well, don't leave me in the dark, what happened?" I inquire with a curious look.

"You fainted. You must've been overwhelmed by it all, which is understandable. It was your first performance after all, jitters and anxiety exist for a reason."

"Doesn't explain why my hearing cut out for a while then." My brows furrows: a crease begins to form in between them.

"It was too loud, and you couldn't handle it. I suggest investing in some earplug next time."

"Good to know I didn't end up dying in your arms after all, though it would've been a great way to go out, don't'cha think?" I comment to her, a playful grin on my lips.

"Maybe next time." She returns the smile to me and I can't help but feel giddy inside. She's so sweet, and I'm so undeserving of her, as a friend and as a potential lover. Her mixed signals confuse me more than life does in general.

She likes the bassist, as she claims. He feels the same way but they both decided to stay as friends. I'm happy for her, truly, but deep down I seethe with jealousy. If only I had known her sooner, it could have been me.

We could have been more. Mom says its for the best that I don't ruin my friendship with the vocalist. Easy for her to say. The more I get to know her, the more I fall. Even from the start we just clicked.

Perhaps we're soulmates, I want to stay optimistic. After all, the vocalist has kissed me, on the forehead twice, and on my neck once. We've cuddled often and held hands. How can you tell me that this is a purely platonic relationship?

Even so, wherever this relationship may go, she will always keep my heart pounding like a drum whenever she's near.