Zac peered out the window at the raging storm.
       "Man I pity anyone out in that weather!" he said to himself, only deep inside him he knew that he wished it was him.
       The idea of being outside in an anger that matched his own frustration fancied him. He could scream without being heard and cry without being seen. The glory of rain is that no one sees you crying in the rain. All the stress of his chosen life was mounting on his shoulders, seeming to weigh him down like a cement block tumbling through the water slowly to the bottom of the ocean, never to breathe again.
       His own breathing was suffocating him.
       To the world, he was "Zac Hanson: always perky, never down, watch out he's slap-happy-crazy!" but on the inside, there was a serious side to him. He had tried more than once to be serious and make sophisticated statements or highly-conversational view points. But everytime he wasn't bouncing off the walls, the people outside of his family thought there was something wrong with him. An illness or exhaustion.
       Nowadays, the hyperness was all an act. An act to keep the girls screaming and the records selling. Personally, Zac would have liked to stop and let the girls listen to the music without drooling over the glossy pinups that covered their walls. But that would never happen. The music industry demanded their constant appearance and the screaming girls pleaded for it. What was a guy to do?
       His silence and peace of mind was disturbed by his older brother talking on the phone. Probably another girlfriend.
       "Gee Tay..knocking? You don't say!! Really appreciated! I mean, I know I would be pissed if you hadn't knocked!" Zac turned with heavy sarcasm to Taylor.
       Taylor just waved his hand dismissively and sat down on Zac's trundle bed to continue his conversation.
       "No Amy, I'm telling you, The Braves have the Astros beat to a pulp!!...unh-unh....cuz I said so...you know you believe everything I say...cuz you want to.." Taylor continued flirting with his girlfriend over the phone while Zac shook his head angrily and left the room.
       Trying to think in this house was getting harder every day.
       Zac walked through all the rooms in the house, looking for a place to sit and think. Even the closets held no image of solitude that he so desperately seeked.
       He grabbed a yellow poncho off the coat rack in the laundry room before heading out into the rain.
       No one sees you crying in the rain.