McLEAD, Andrew }{ Local

[ANDREW WILLIAM McLEAD.]

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ANDREW WILLIAM McLEAD

THE NINETEEN YEAR OLD LOCAL
CONOR OBERST.

BASICS
HELD OUR BREATH FOR TOO LONG,
NOW WE'RE HALF SICK ABOUT IT
Well hey, I'm Andrew. Yes, Andrew- please don't call me Andy, it's just... it's weird. I'm nineteen, would have graduated this year... In the public school system. Don't you worry, I tried long and hard every year to get into Harbin... I guess I'm just not good enough, hah. Anyways... hm. I'm nineteen, and I work as a waiter at this nice little vegan restaurant. Yes, I'm vegan. Yes, I'm Professor McLead's son. I've been told we look alike, but act nothing alike. And you know... that's about right.

GENERAL
AND ALTHOUGH PRATFALLS CAN BE FUN
ENCORES CAN BE FATAL

Hm. The Grand life of Andrew McLead, right? Well, I'm not even going to lie, it's not all that grand. I was born right here- well, probably not exactly. My mum and dad met at school, of course- They went to the same elementary school, but didn't really start talking until freshman year of high school. They started dating halfway through their freshman year, and I suppose they were quite charming- all of the pictures I've seen of them at that time looked pretty happy.

Well, they dated and all that, had some illegal fun, and... yeah, yeah. This shit happens. My mum found out that, at fourteen, she was pregnant. Sucks to be her. My dad was... fifteen when I was born, I believe. They were in their sophomore year. Sucks to be them. I'm sure I was a little bitch to have- I mean, kids suck. I've never had one, but I'm sure they are, especially when all you want to do is have fun and party. They still did- well, I know my mum did, that's why she eventually left, but I can't imagine my dad partying.

Oh, look, I'm ahead of myself. So, I guess when I was six months old mummy got sick and tired of me. She and my dad were no longer 'dating' (Hell, they were no longer speaking) so they would sort of take turns with me, a week with her, a week with him... But eventually, it was like a month with dad, two days with her. This went on... I don't really know how long, but I vaguely remember it, being handed off like a sack of potatoes. I mean, I'd love to think that at least my dad thought higher of me than that, but let's not kid ourselves- my mum didn't want me.

When I was two, I got sick- no one knew what was wrong with me. I don't mean, like, cold sick, I mean like... Seizures and coughing up blood and all that stuff that you really shouldn't be doing. They put me in the hospital for a while- because I needed it, of course. My mum wasn't really there any more, not for me at least- maybe she didn't want to see me all hooked up to those wires and shit. Maybe she just didn't want to see me. I vaguely remember not knowing at all what was going on, why I was in the hospital and all that, but I do remember. I know now that I needed a heart transplant- my heart wasn't working hard enough, simply put. It was lazy, heh. Luckily enough my grandma had insurance and since I was technically part of the household, I was covered under it... They still had to pay a large amount of money but it was only like 30% of the bill. I've had to go to the hospital here and there afterwords for little mini-complications and stuff (nothing goes smoothly, you know) But... Hey, I'm alive. Which is good, yes. The scar's sort of nasty, a knotty line across my chest, but it's... it's cool, I suppose.

Backtracking! when I was three, They did all this legal stuff and she signed me off forever. No hard feelings, though. Me and dad fared pretty well- by the time she was gone he was in college with a little help from his parents and like a zillion scholarships, using the rest of the money he'd earned on an apartment and stuff... He just worked a lot, and I was babysat a lot until I was around ten and I could look after myself. It wasn't like I spent a whole lot of time indoors, anyways- I always liked being outside. I still do- it's just... It's so nice. The outdoors, rural, urban, forest, whatever. It's just... Nice.

Because of my dad's love of the arts, I think he tried to get me started in that stuff early- Like, he tried to get me to write and stuff, and we'd 'make up stories' and stuff on the subway or walking to the store or something... Just silly stuff. It was fun while it lasted, but... The talent just didn't cross over to me. I'm a terrible writer. Poet. Whatever. I even tried music, played the guitar for a bit- I'm okay, but I'm just not all that good. I've been told I have a nice singing voice, but that's just not enough.

Not enough to get into that damn school. I don't think he meant anything by it- I mean, I know he wasn't being pushy or anything. It's just, If I would have been accepted into Harbin, I would have gotten my education for dirt cheap, since my dad works there. But I just wasn't good enough, and we weren't rich enough for me to just... go, right? So I stayed in public school, until I was sixteen- Then I dropped out. I'm just not good at anything, it seems; I was still a freshman. I can't concentrate, can't do well in school. Three years later, and I'm still technically a failure- I have absolutely nothing going for me. I work as a waiter. I still live with my dad, because I don't have the money to move out. I don't know, maybe I just don't have the heart. I'm really close to my dad.

IMPORTANTS
SO BE CAREFUL WHEN YOU'RE DONE
YOU'RE BOUND TO GET POST-NATAL
YOUR NAME! ADAM!

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