Short story) The Great Flip-Flop of Jake Thompson

<The Great Flip-Flop of Jake Thompson>

 

 

Hey there, I'm Jake Thompson, a senior at Riverside High. If you'd told me a year ago that I'd be where I am today, I would've laughed and gone back to perfecting my microwave mac 'n' cheese technique. But life, as unpredictable as ever, had other plans.

It all started freshman year when I got obsessed with this TV show called Survival Island. Watching those contestants wrestle with nature—and occasionally each other—made me wonder, "Could I ever be that resourceful?" So when I saw a flyer for our school's "Ultimate Survivor Challenge" my heart did a triple somersault. This was my shot!

I plunged headfirst into preparation. Picture this: a scrawny kid trying to build a shelter in his backyard using only a tarp and sheer willpower. My neighbors thought I'd lost it. My best friend Max would swing by and say, "Dude, you're aware this isn't actual wilderness, right? That's Mrs. Peterson's poodle, not a wild coyote."

But I was undeterred. I studied survival manuals, practiced starting fires with sticks (resulting in a minor lawn incident), and even tried eating bugs. Note: ants do not taste like bacon bits.

The day of the competition arrived, and the school was buzzing like it was prom night. Challenges ranged from setting up a tent blindfolded to identifying "edible" cafeteria food—a true test of courage. Against all odds (and common sense), I won! Suddenly, I was "Survivor Jake" the guy who beat out the track team captain and the Eagle Scout. Even Sarah Mitchell, who once didn't realize I existed, commented on my Instagram post with a fire emoji.

But here's where things get tricky. With my newfound fame came expectations. Teachers started calling on me in class, assuming survival skills translated to knowing the Pythagorean theorem. Spoiler: they don't. My grades began slipping as I spent more time maintaining my "legend" status than studying.

Friends grew distant. Max joked, "Don't forget us little people when you're building campfires on The Tonight Show." I laughed, but it stung a bit. Even Sarah moved on to liking Brad Stevens' posts—apparently, his dad got a new boat.

By junior year, I was feeling the pressure. The novelty wore off, and I was just the guy who ate a beetle for extra points. My GPA was doing a limbo dance ("How low can you go?"), and college seemed like a distant mirage.

One late night, while flipping through channels, I stumbled upon an old concert of legendary guitarist Stevie Ray Vaughan. His fingers danced on the strings, and the music hit me like a bolt of lightning. Could I do that? Well, not immediately, but maybe with less insect consumption and more practice?

I dusted off my dad's old guitar from the attic. The first strum sounded like a cat complaining, but it was a start. I began watching tutorials, my fingertips protesting every step of the way. Music became my new adventure—a different kind of survival.

Word got around that I was learning guitar. Some found it amusing ("From bugs to Beethoven, huh?"), but I didn't care. It felt right. Mrs. Thompson, the music teacher—not related, though she did once joke about adopting me—noticed my interest and offered lessons after school.

By senior year, I'd improved enough to play actual songs without scaring the neighborhood cats. Mrs. Thompson suggested I perform at the spring talent show. Me? On stage? In front of people? My stomach did a backflip.

The night of the show, I was a bundle of nerves. The curtain opened, the lights blinded me, and for a moment, I considered bolting. But then I saw Max in the front row, giving me two thumbs up, and Sarah smiling encouragingly.

I started playing. The notes flowed, and I forgot about the crowd. It was just me and the music. When I finished, there was a moment of silence followed by thunderous applause. I grinned so hard my cheeks hurt.

After the show, people approached me—not as "Survivor Jake" but as someone who moved them with music. Even Brad Stevens said, "Dude, that was sick!" High praise from Boat Boy.

In that moment, I realized life's not about sticking to one script. It's about evolving, finding new passions, and not being afraid to pivot when things go south—or when eating bugs loses its charm.

Now, I'm applying to music schools. My parents are cautiously supportive, relieved that my new hobby doesn't involve potential food poisoning. Max and I are jamming together, and even Sarah joined our little band as a vocalist.

Just yesterday, I scored tickets to see John Mayer live—a small investment in my dream. Who knows? Maybe one day I'll be the one inspiring a kid to pick up a guitar instead of a bug net.

So here's my takeaway: Life's a wild ride with twists sharper than Mrs. Peterson's opinions at the HOA meetings. You'll have ups and downs, wins and losses. Embrace them all. Don't be afraid to reinvent yourself. And always, always check if the "edible" plants in the school garden are actually parsley and not, say, poison ivy.

Oh, and if you ever find yourself eating ants—add a little chocolate. Trust me.

 

 

Melody in the Sunset

 

 

#ref.:

https://sosohantry.tistory.com/entry/Book-투자에-대한-생각-투자시장의-특성을-이해하라

Book) 투자에 대한 생각 - 투자시장의 특성을 이해하라