In a small town near the beach, there was a boy named Jordan. Jordan was a passionate musician. He played the drums and dreamed of joining the school’s prestigious jazz band. But as a Black queer teen in a town where traditions ran deep, he often felt out of place. His music was his escape, but he longed for acceptance and connection.

Jordan had a close friend, Alex,  Alex was unapologetically himself. Together, they navigated high school life. “You should audition for the jazz band,” Alex encouraged one day as they walked home from school. “You’ve got the talent!”

you should try, out for the talent show. you've got the talent! 

“I don’t know, Alex,”  “What if they don’t want me because I’m… different?” 

“Different is what makes you unique! Just remember, you’re not alone,”

Days later, Jordan stood nervously outside the band room, his heart pounding. He could hear the sounds of saxophones and trumpets filtering through the door. “What if they laugh at me?” he thought to himself.

Inside, the band members eyed him curiously. Mr. Thompson, the band director, smiled warmly. Jordan nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach. As he sat at the drum set, he felt a rush of adrenaline. He began to play a syncopated rhythm, his passion pouring out with every beat.

When he finished, the room erupted in applause, but not everyone was impressed. A boy named Kyle crossed his arms. “What was that? Jordan’s heart sank. He looked at Mr. Thompson, who smiled encouragingly

what was that?