Word Count: 502

“Well, you’ve kept the place clean enough. Still, have you thought about calling the health inspector about the possible mildew and mold?”

“Thank you, and no I haven’t. If I see anything concerning I will.”

“And you’re still planning on going to high school? How will you get there? It’s a few miles away.”

“I have my bike, and if the weather is bad or I can’t get back easily, I’ll get permission to stay in a friend’s dorm until I can.”

“How about your job? Are you making sure you are on time?”

“Yes, but I can’t clock in until about five minutes before, so I get there early to work on homework before my shift starts.”

“And what do you do for fun?”

“I write music and play the piano. I’ve entered into a competition. I’m hoping to get a scholarship for college.”

These meetings were pointless in Ilian’s opinion. It was probably on the part of the government wanting to make sure they didn’t just send a kid out to starve to death by allowing them to leave the system early. He knew he would have to put in some hard work to be able to make it on his own, but in the month that he’d turned sixteen and had been living completely on his own, he’d already realized there was no way he would ever go back into the system. His parents may be dead. His brother may be dead. But he was old enough to be on his own, and while he might not be the best or brightest, he felt as though he had more to live for on his own.

“Who taught you how to play?”

“My father and my brother. I sing, too. My mother taught me.”

“You must be good if you’re entering competitions and looking to get scholarships.”

“I’m okay. It’s really a matter of opinion. Either you can play the pieces exactly as they’re written, or you can deviate into your own style. Typically for competitions they should be played as written, but if anyone wants to make a name for themselves, well…”

“You sound very passionate about it.”

“I am.”

He wished they would just leave. These people in their suits and their clipboards and their noses in the air, looking down on him while pretending to be his friend and to actually care, inspecting his home, calling his job, checking with the high school to make sure he was still enrolled. He supposed it was more of an effort they put into it than he’d expected they would, but he wished they would leave him in peace. Obviously they didn’t want him resorting to stealing or drugs or whatever, but he was not the one they should pretend to worry about.

“Very well. Keep up the good work. We’ll schedule another appointment at the end of next month.”

Ilian shut the door behind them after they left, and slumped down to the floor to cry against his knees.