Dane and Zion

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

~Dane~

       "Dane! Come downstairs!" Mom called. "Dinner is ready!"

       I sighed, wanting to just continue strumming on my guitar instead of going downstairs for dinner. It was Thanksgiving today, which my family always spent with Carrie's family. I haven't seen all of them together since before I quit working for Carrie, so I was not looking forward to having dinner with them. I could only imagine how that was going to go.

       However, I didn't want my parents getting mad at me for staying in my room, so I put my guitar back on its stand before getting up and leaving my bedroom. All I had to do was eat dinner and then I could return to my room again and ignore Carrie's family.

       I went to the dining room where Carrie's parents, Larry and Gina, were sitting at the table. Carrie was helping Mom and Dad set the table with the Thanksgiving dinner. As soon as Mom saw me, she said, "Oh, finally. You normally help set the table."

       "Sorry," I mutter, sitting down at the table now that it was fully set. I didn't want to tell them the reason I didn't come down earlier to help set the table. I didn't think Carrie's family would be happy if I told them I would rather not be where they are right now.

       I just really hoped that nobody would bring up the fact that I quit working for Carrie. I would rather talk about literally anything else.

       Unfortunately, as soon as we all had food on our plates, that was the first thing that came up. "So, Dane," Gina said. "I never really understood why you quit writing for Carrie."

       "Creative differences," was all I said, hoping it would be enough to end the conversation.

       Apparently not, because Carrie decided to drag on the conversation. Mainly by throwing me under the bus and trying to get her parents to hate me. As if they didn't hate me already by quitting.

       "He decided to go work for someone else," Carrie said.

       "Yes, I've heard," Gina said. "For some... movie theatre worker."

       I didn't even bother reminding Gina that I also worked in a movie theatre. The same one that Zion worked at. Working a job that wasn't in the music industry didn't mean that someone wasn't talented, like Gina was implying. 

       Because Zion was an extremely talented person, and it was really annoying me that some people thought otherwise just because I wasn't woking for Carrie anymore.

       But I didn't say anything. Once again, I was hoping that the conversation would end.

       I was dumb to think otherwise.

       "I haven't listened to any of his songs, but I could tell they're mediocre," Larry said. "Probably not anywhere close to the quality of songs my daughter has been singing."

       Yeah, that made sense. Zion's songs were mediocre and Carrie's weren't? They were written by the same person.

       Unless Larry was talking about the songs Carrie had been writing on her own, that was full of materialistic things.

       I still didn't say anything. I just continued eating in silence, wanting to finish as quickly as I could so I could just head back to my room.

       The worst part about this Thanksgiving dinner wasn't that Carrie's family were trashing Zion. The worst part was that my parents weren't saying anything to stop them. I was their son. They should be defending the decisions I made, especially decisions that made me happy.