A/N: I have loved this movie from the start. I come from a family of music and to see music highlighted in such a way was absolutely fantastic. There is a feeling you get when listening to music that shows just how much the artist loves music. You can hear it in his or her voice when singing, or in the notes the instruments make, extending out to whoever is listening. It's like when you see someone dance. You can tell if they are truly dancing or just reciting steps. It is shown on their faces, in the sculpture of their muscles, and the energy flowing from the core to the fingertips and perfectly pointed toes out. However, I cannot deny my love of knowledge. Being able to combine the two, especially with my dream of being a writer, is a true blessing. Please read and enjoy!

DFTBA – Katalina

It's there. Can you feel it? It's all around us. The wind rushes by and it is whispered in your ear. Raindrops fall and when they splash, it's inscribed in the ripples. The knowledge, it never stops. Just go outside, listen to the music, and it'll be there. You just need to find it.

I stepped off the bus into the pouring rain. Of course, it starts raining on the day I forget my coat and umbrella. But what can you do? I walk down the sidewalk and stop a few blocks away, and there it is, York Prep. I am beginning my first day of sophomore year. Normally, this would be a casual thing. But what is different for me than other students is that I am eleven going on twelve. For some reason, I am freaking out. It's not like it's my first time going here. I went here for a whole 187 days last year. I don't know why; it was one of the easiest things I've ever done. But this year it's different. I don't know how, but I can taste it in the air, in the wind when it sings to me. Something is going to change.

I shake it off as I walk up the steps in my ratty Converse. No new clothes this year, but it's not that important. It's not like I get new clothes or materials all the time. I've had these school supplies since I was seven. Usually people gawk, but when you're from where I am from, it becomes second nature to make things last.

My name is Lucy, Lucy Caulfield. I chose Caulfield after my favorite character, Holden Caulfield from The Catcher in the Rye. I live in a girl's home, St. Mary's, in New York. Although, most of the time I'm hanging out at my best friend's house. His name is Jacob Fletcher. He and I have known each other since we were one, even though he is a year older than me. He's like my brother, the best brother. An actor and comic since birth, he helps show the stark contrast between the both of us. I wouldn't have it any other way. He's the most amazing friend anyone could ever ask for, considering he is my only friend. I still wonder why he is my friend. Half of the time my nose can be found in a book. I don't know who my parents are, never have. I don't know why they didn't want me, but sometimes I can understand. I am a freak, being 11 years, 2 months, and 15 days old with an IQ 187.

But for some reason, however irrational, I hold on to the little sliver of hope that my parents are there and that they want me, that they will find me. It's unlikely, but a girl can hope, right?

I place my books on the bottom of my locker, organized by order of classes from left to right, spines facing out. Another year to be the shortest, another year of being the smartest, and most of all, another year of being the loneliest. I breathe in and out. It count the number of clicks the lockers make, making it to 200 by the time I open my eyes, close my locker, and walk down the hall filled with skyscrapers for people.

Time to face the music.