HEATHER BAY

On my phone, I sign into my student portal and access my courses. Online school is more flexible for me...it's also cheaper. I dreamt of going to a performing arts school, like Columbia in Chicago...but that stayed a dream. My wireless headphones play lofi hip hop while I click on week 5's assignment-an American Government Essay. I run my hands through my long, jet-black hair as I read the assignment's instructions.

As a hired campaign manager for a candidate running for senator in Florida, you have to create a campaign plan that will persuade the media and public polls. Strategize a promised goal. Explain how the senate will enrich the community if they were to win. Also, determine the target audiences and social issues they face. Okay...time for an outline. I open my notepad app and type:

Persuade media and public polls with the use of commercials, social media advertising, and Facebook quizzes. Address the impact of each on the climate of an election. Possible promised goals, a pollution filtration system for the city. Lower student loans and police reform on unlawful arrests. Stand Your Ground Law re-evaluation. Community changes, affordable housing, frozen wages, and community law requests.

"Okay, I need to get a computer." I sigh...staring out the one window that my room has. Darkness covers the skies, and streetlights blaze like torches through the tiny square. It's almost 9 pm. Best I get this paper out the way before 11:00...that's when Jenna calls. Most people say long-distance relationships don't work, but Jenna and I call three times a day, afternoon, evening, and night, like clockwork.

This has been our schedule for six months now. We haven't met up yet, but that's okay; our connection is strong. Jenna is an intern at a publishing company in New York, Skyhorse Publishing, and has a second job at UPS since the first one doesn't pay.

I understand her busy schedule; it's hard to believe she calls at all....oh she also leaves voice memos for me too. She is kind of a superwoman, in my opinion, with how attentive she is with all that on her plate. My mind goes back to the voice memo I listened to just a few minutes ago.

"You better be doing that paper." Her baritone demands while the sound of a truck is heard in the background. "Now, back to the video, you have a fanbase. I'm jelly." The sound of a turning signal clicks. "Soak that up...and make yourself a TikTok superstar. For real, those people get paid. Talk to you later. Bye."

In my notepad, I begin writing the paper.

I hate classes that don't benefit my career path, hospitality management. I visualize myself greeting customers on cruises and conducting a tour. My parents let me watch too many Pirates Of The Caribbean as a kid. Now I want to work on the sea. Since I couldn't grow up to be a pirate, I had to settle with this. My little brother, Jeremy, always thought the Lords in the movies were, and I quote: "super cool!"

He's a law student at Berkeley University after winning a $70k scholarship raffle. I guess he sort of a lord...the fuck up lord in our family. That might sound mean...but it's true...yet he's still praised. My goal in life was a hobby in their eyes...a simple and common field. My parents know that I'm attending school to sail the seas. My mother actually told me to: "marry a rich guy instead of working to get one." As if rich guys just pop up....as if I want a guy at all. Oh damn...I keep avoiding my paper...I need to get it done.