I was born into a life of potential luxury. I say potential because my parents had money. My mom was Constance Rhea Clendaniel, MD. Yeah, I’m one of those lucky kids who had a doctor for a mom. No, it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. You never get to skip school just because you don’t feel like going, she knows when you’re sick or not. My dad was Matthias James Clendianel. He was an architect who moonlighted as a band member with some of the guys from his office; drummer, if I remember correctly. Believe it or not, the group was pretty good, played a few smaller gigs at the local bars and had a small following around town. Don’t know if anyone still remembers Obsolete Voyage. Anyway! Money, they had it, knew how to manage it. No, I was not born with a silver spoon. I had to work for and earn what I wanted.
Actually it’s a pretty good skill, one more people should be instilled with early on. Not everything is free and no one should be handing out anything to just anyone. If you want something bad enough, work for it, save for it. You’ll appreciate it more and be less likely to wibble when you want something.
Learning that lesson early on prepared me for school and all the other activities I was involved in. Oh, I went to the finest schools. My parents wouldn’t just buy me a Nintendo or the latest pair of $200 shoes, but send me to private school? Sure! Supplement with home school? Why not! Good use of money right there. I have to admit, I earned a pretty good education even if it wasn’t always fun or easy. What? Why supplement with home school? Because my parents were some kinds of crazy education mongers who— alright, kidding. Actually it was one of my teacher’s ideas. Little too smart for my own good, I was mastering the material sooner than the rest of my peers.
You see, I started pre-K at three years old, just like any other kid who’s dumped into the system. Counting and letters? Pffh. I got those, so they moved me on to shapes, colors, patterns. On a whim, my teacher tried me out on simple words; ball, cat, dog. So she set up a conference with mom and dad and, together, the three of them conceived an idea to thrust me into the world of proper learning. I started Kindergarten at four years old and excelled. Even with being challenged by the criteria they used in home school, and believe me when I tell you that the lessons in for that line of education are more challenging than what they teach at regular school, I still performed well above children in my own grade level and those a year older.
Suffice it to say, I was always the youngest in class, though my parents tried to keep me from moving too far ahead too fast. I stayed with my classmates from Kindergarten up through middle school, though I was beginning to challenge the teachers. Bored with the lessons I understood faster than my peers, I became disruptive at times. Sorry, it happens. You finish first, have to sit at one of those little bitty desks with nothing to do. Things happen! Honest, I didn’t mean to get into trouble and I worked hard to keep it from happening. But by the time I was in sixth grade, my parents had another conference. This time, with my homeroom teacher and the principal.
Talk about sweating bullets.
I’d just served three days of detention for mouthing off to the teacher, which my parents had signed off on already, but child like I thought maybe something more was coming from it. No, they felt it necessary to pass me not into seventh grade, but into eighth. I “wasn’t being intellectually challenged” and as such, I was more of a problem than an asset to my friends. So there I was, the shortest, youngest eighth grader ever, two years younger than my classmates instead of only a year, and still making the other kids struggle just to keep up with me.
Man, I was such a geek back then. My only redeeming quality had to have been my extracurricular activities. My parents wanted me to be well rounded, not just an intellectual, but also keen artistically and physically.
I took to the arts pretty well. Got involved in community theatre when I was six, participated in theatre throughout middle and senior high school, and it’s the only thing that’s stayed consistent all my life. I’ve held a wide range of roles, not only as an actor but also working behind the scenes. The technical aspect of theatre really puts into perspective how much work goes into making the show possible. But my calling was acting. Or so I like to think. I mentioned already that I was accepted at Columbia University, to go into their theatre program. Well that passion came from working in good ol’ theatre. I didn’t always hold a lead position, sometimes I didn’t even get cast, but theatre more filled my life when I wasn’t in school or studying.
I was never much for sports growing up. I enjoyed watching and would join the occasional pick up game of ball, whether football or basketball or baseball. But playing competitively really wasn’t my thing. My parents put me into some kind of Karate, American Kenpo if you’ve ever heard of it. I guess it’s the only other thing I stuck with for a while, besides theatre. I started that when I ten and actually enjoyed the classes. A mental and physical challenge, something that kept me thinking while making me move. I wasn’t exceptional at it, I was far better at acting, but I can say I hold up well enough in a fight.
As you might be able to guess, I graduated a couple of years early. Where I should’ve been Class of 2012, I was instead amongst those who graduated just this past May. 2010. My parents had given up on home school when I entered ninth grade. Enrolled me into college classes instead, so I was still stuck doing twice the normal work, though I did get a jump start on college credits. Y’know, I don’t claim to be a genius of any sort. I’m just — okay fine. I’m a genius. In my own mind anyway.
Started college this fall, like most would expect. I know my parents had wanted me to continue my education. They set me up for it, too, suddenly all their scrimping and saving made sense, couple of crazy kids, looking out for me even from beyond. I’d gotten accepted into the Theatre Arts MFA program at Columbia University and my loving but very stingy parents, had saved up throughout my life to put me through a few years of college so I’d be able to focus on school. When they died — well, it’s kind of self explanatory. Left their “estate” to me, so to speak. I was set for a few years of school, and longer if I was smart about it.
Recently I decided to give up school, much to my parents’ angelic afterlife chagrin. I’d seen an internship opportunity posted on the callboard outside the theatre, local TV personality Brad Russo was wanting to take on a young actor, someone interested in a potential career in television. I couldn’t believe my luck, after all the bad stuff that happened, I followed some sound advice and applied. A few days later, BAM, I got the job.
Why take the internship when I had a ride through school, you ask? It was my aunt who told me to reach for my dreams. You recall a thing, happened about four years ago in Midtown New York City? Big explosion, killed more people than any single attack or natural disaster since biblical times. — It was a dark time, a darker place. You don’t know how badly I wish I could say I watched it on television instead of from the front row seat I had. I don’t remember where we were going, but my parents and I were caught up in the destruction. I don’t know why I was rescued and my parents weren’t, or how I survived and they didn’t. I was trapped, for two days, between a car and the biggest slab of concrete I’ve ever seen. Just enough space to breathe. Everything hurt, just living hurt, but I pushed through.
Mostly unharmed physically, miraculously, I was released to an aunt, my mom’s sister, whom I had no idea was living in the city. Parents never talked about her that I remember. Anyway, and I’m getting to the point of why I took the internship in the first place, I moved in with my aunt, a strange woman named Milly, or Mildred Kay Henry. Aunt Milly was… the light at the end of the tunnel. She stuck with me, through recovery and all the days that’ve followed since the explosion. She got me back into school, back into all the activities I’d enjoyed before the tragedy. I started acting again, worked harder than ever in my classes to graduate on time. Somehow, Aunt Milly and I made it through.
Together we watched in shock and awe when the Evolved were revealed. Who knew there were others in our own neighborhoods who could do things? I can’t say that we’ve ever talked about it, though. In my opinion, people should quit making sanctions and do something already. I mean, with all the scare tactics being used, all the propaganda of “Register because Uncle Sam wants you to”, it’s getting old. Four years later and we’re no where closer to understanding these people, let alone figuring out a way to control what ability they get or where they’re allowed. Do I hate them? No. Blame them for my parents dying? Not really. Bitter? Sure, I’ll take that one.
Registration was kind of a step in the right direction. I did it, mostly because of school but sure as hell wouldn’t have if I could’ve gotten away with it. The program has a lot of the right ideas, but the practice sucks. I mean come on. Everyone needing to register because of a few bad eggs? Such crap. Treat the criminal Evos like you would any other felon, list those guys in the database and leave the rest of us who’ve never done a damned thing wrong in our lives alone. Hell, my SLC test came back positive, but I’ve never shown any kind of ability and I sure as hell don’t plan on going around blowing up cities. But alas, it’s required for too much and until a way around it’s found I’m stuck.
Off the tangent now, back to my Aunt Milly and why I took the internship. See, she has a magnetic personality, the kind that inevitably makes you want to talk and be involved in her life, and she taught me that life goes on. It’s too short to waste, what with all the hardships and horrors that take place. You have to keep moving forward and keep reaching for the stars. I guess it’s sort of like what my parents wanted, a more direct way of saying it than just ‘Here! Learn this.’ Aunt Milly flat out told me to go after my hopes and dreams. I wanted, above all else, to be an actor, to work in the industry, so when I saw that Mister Russo was looking for an intern, I took the chance. I resigned my career as a student and knocked on the door presented to me.
Television personality, here I come!
