Rearview Horizon: The Protocol of Us
Part 2 of Rearview Horizon explores Will and Amanda navigating their expectations, peer pressure, and group dynamics to create a memorable night,
Life provides its own bit of entertainment, and I try to capture the conflict and joy that arise from what we experience every day. My stories offer a brief respite from this crazy life, and I hope you enjoy them. There’s something new every Friday.
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The Piano Man Chronicles is a two-year anthology project. Every two weeks, you’ll see a story surrounding the fictional novel PIANO MAN (You can read about PIANO MAN below the story). Some stories are small three-part serials. Others will be from guest authors.
By Vince Wetzel
Part 2 (Read Part 1)
Jay wasn’t buying it. He and Will were sitting at an outside table at In-N-Out, eating double-doubles and sharing an order of fries, while they watched cars parade around the parking lot to get through the Drive-thru.
“I know you’ve fantasized about her since you were like twelve, but how did you get up the cojones to ask her to prom?” Jay asked, barely audible through a mouth full of cheeseburger, “And how did you get her to say yes?”
“She asked me,” Will had to explain again to Jay the circumstances that made the most popular girl in school his prom date after his shift at the bookstore.
Will wasn’t sure if he believed it either. Two hours before, Amanda Wright, with whom Will had a crush, had asked him to the prom without pomp or circumstance. In fact, he knew her decision to ask was impulsive. She wanted to be done with Darren Foyle, and the easiest way to dismiss him was to commit to the most important event in high school: the prom with Will, her unpopular gamer friend.
“This definitely elevates our prom celebration,” Jay said. “To be rolling in with Amanda Wright, man, that will be cool.”
For a moment, Will allowed himself the fantasy, complete with a slow-motion roll into Buca di Beppo Italian Eatery, before pulling up to the country club in a limo. He’d walk into prom with Amanda Wright on his arm and alongside his buddies. In the fantasy, there’d be paparazzi snapping pictures, and maybe explosions firing off in the background. After four years in the shadows, they were getting their glow-up when it mattered most.
Then reality hit. He hadn’t exactly worked through the details with Amanda. Heck, he wasn’t sure if the invitation would be rescinded in the coming hours. The one good thing about their friendship is that he did have her number and could text her with these questions.
“Well, I’m not sure what our plans are yet,” Will said. “She asked me, so does that mean she takes care of our itinerary? I don’t know the protocol.”
Jay dipped a fry in the little well of ketchup. While Jay was somehow elected class treasurer, Will wasn’t sure if he had mastered parliamentary procedure to guide the protocol.
“Dude, we had this planned, even before Amanda Wright tapped you on the shoulder to be her date,” Jay said. To all of Will’s friends, only the full Amanda Wright name was used for reference. “We are going to have an epic night. My uncle has access to one of those party vans for work and said he’d drive us around. We get the big Pope Room at Buca di Beppo. We hit prom, then back to my place for an epic night of gaming.”
“I’m not sure Amanda is going to go for that. This is her swan song, too,” Will said. “I’m just going to have to check with her.”
Jay made a sound of agreement, but Will assumed it was confirmation through the Double-Double “Animal Style” that Jay had in his mouth.
“You did what?” Riley asked in shock. Amanda wasn’t sure if Riley might lose all function in her hands, dropping a Dutch Bros. iced latte all over the passenger seat of Amanda’s Toyota Corolla.
“I asked Will Jenson to the prom because I didn’t want to go with Darren,” Amanda said. Repeating it back, Amanda cringed. She liked Will. He was a good friend, and ever since that baseball game a couple of years ago, he had been her tether to reality, one that wasn’t caught up in popularity, college recruitment, or any of that. They talked about baseball, parents, and studying, and it was all real. Sure, she had to hear a little too much about video games and sci-fi novels, and yes, she knew he still had a crush on her even though she told him she didn’t think of him like that, but he was sweet and no drama. That wouldn’t be the case if she went with Darren.
“Well, you should text him and tell him it was a rash decision made in the heat of the moment,” Riley said. “He’ll understand. Just you talking to him will make his day.”
“That’s so wrong,” Amanda said.
“What’s wrong is that he’s going to be so out of place with all of us. Can you imagine him when we’re in that suite at the Hyatt, and he’s hooking up the videogame console to the TV.”
Amanda pictured the Hyatt suite, Will sitting on the couch with his controller, focused on the big screen on the wall, while she stood against the wall, bored. And she wouldn’t be alone.
“Most of the guys will probably join him.”
“Exactly,” Riley said. “And I don’t want Samuel playing video games when we’ve got our own room.”
Amanda thought about it. This was the kind of drama she didn’t want. She wanted to have a good night – dance, laugh, have fun, and have a memory that she would fondly remember for the rest of her life. Regardless of who she brought, she knew the post-party thing at a house or a hotel was going to be fraught with angst and drama. She’d seen enough ‘90s teen movies to know that something always went wrong.
“So, ditch Will, and you can ask Eric. I’ve heard he hasn’t asked anyone yet.”
Amanda smiled. She could at least relate to Eric. He was going to San Diego State on a soccer scholarship, and they shared endless stories of traveling with club teams, showcasing their talents at camps and tournaments across the country, and living with an abnormal dedication to a sport in hopes of landing a coveted college scholarship.
“I’ll think about it,” Amanda said.
“Good. Your pictures will look so much better with Eric than with Will,” Riley said. “Now that you’re in your right mind, did you see what Zendaya was wearing yesterday at that movie premiere?”
Amanda always did her best thinking in bed. Hours after Riley went home, and Amanda should be getting to sleep, she churned the idea of the prom in her head again and again. She knew she’d have a great time with Will. She also knew this was the last time she’d be with this group of friends.
As if on cue, her dresser rattled with the buzz of her cell phone. She looked at the screen. A text from Eric:
Eric: WYD
Amanda: Shouldn’t you be asleep?
Eric: Shouldn’t you?
Amanda: True. WU
Eric: Riley said you may looking for a date to the prom.
“Of course she did,” Amanda muttered to herself. Her fingers hovered over the phone for a minute.
Eric: You there?
Amanda: Yeah.
Eric: You want to go with me?
This was the moment. A quick acceptance, a conversation with Will tomorrow, and the high school social structure wouldn’t register the blip.
Eric: Wow, that’s a no?
Amanda slammed her bed. She was going to do it. Her fingers typed quickly before she changed her mind.
Amanda: Thanks, but I already have a date.
Eric: Really? Who?
Amanda: Will Jenson
Eric: Wow. That’s bold. But you have always gone your own way.
Amanda: Yeah. He’s a good friend.
Eric: All right. I get one dance thought, right?
Amanda: Of course. Thanks for understanding.
Eric: No worries.
With resolve, Amanda immediately pulled up Will’s phone number. She knew he was up. Will bragged about his late-night gaming sessions with her during AP Government. How they didn’t fall asleep on their consoles, she had no idea.
Amanda: Hey, prom date
Will: Right! That was crazy today. Thanks for asking me. Takes the pressure off.
Amanda: Oh yeah? Were you going to ask me?
Will: I wish. I mean, if I knew you wanted to go with me, I would have. I think we’re going to have fun.
Amanda: Was there someone else you wanted to go with?
Will: Nope. I’m there. Committed.
Amanda: Good. My friends were surprised I asked you.
Will: Same. We threw them all.
Amanda: I think that in itself is a reason why we should go together. Throw off the whole system.
Will: Right. Revolution! We can make it a Reverse “She’s All That.”
Amanda: ??
Will: 90s movie with um Freddie Prinze Jr? Paul and my mom showed it to me once. Kinda lame. The girl looks nerdy until she puts on makeup and takes off her glasses. Then she’s a movie star.
Amanda: So, are you Rachel Leigh Cook?
Amanda laughed. This was one of the reasons she enjoyed Will’s friendship. He’d pull out these strange but cool pop references, then get flustered when no one else got them. Fortunately, she did, but still liked to make him sweat.
Will: Wait, you saw the movie?
Amanda: Of course. I’m sure you’ll glow up just as well, but please don’t wear a dress. I’m having a hard enough time not picking a dress like my friends. And to be clear, there was no bet in asking you.
Will: I know. But… I was wondering. Are we going with my friend group or yours?
Amanda: I don’t know. What are your friends doing?
Will: Well, we planned on going to Buca di Beppo and taking a party bus. Then massive Mario Kart gaming after.
Amanda: My friends are planning to get a suite at the Hyatt. I’m not so sure, though. I’m kinda over it.
Will: Whatever. I’m fine. I mean, I’d like to hang out with my friends a little, but you asked me, so…
Amanda: Let me think about it. Talk later?
Will: sure
For two days, Amanda felt the pressure from Riley and her friends on one side, and the constant puppy dog forlorn look from Will, hoping he’d pick his group for the night. All of these plans, and she had to choose instead of going her own way.
She wasn’t hungry. Heading into breakfast, Amanda began her morning ritual and pulled out the frozen berries and unsweetened high-protein yogurt, then placed them in the blender. But today, the choice of whether to put peanut butter or spinach seemed too much.
“Amanda, lid,” her mother exclaimed from across the kitchen. She was reading a copy of Piano Man by Thomas Eberle. Theresa Wright was also a teacher at Kennedy High School. While it sometimes cramped her style, Amanda drove her mom to school three days a week. “What is wrong with you? You’ve been distracted.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t give me that. You almost made a mess that would have taken me years to clean. Now tell your mother what’s wrong.”
“It’s about prom,” she said.
“What about it. We’re still going to get your dress this weekend, right?”
“Yeah, you know I asked Will Jenson, right?”
“Yes. A little surprising, but he’s a good boy.”
“Right. I asked him on a whim. And he’s got a whole different friend group than me. And now I have to decide if I want to hang out with his friends, or if I want to drag him to be with my friends.”
Amanda’s mother nodded her head. She knew better than to offer advice in these situations. Amanda would reject anything she said. “What do you want to do?”
“I want to laugh. I want to have fun. I don’t mind going to dinner with either group. But then, after, I know what I don’t want to do. I don’t want to get drunk. I don’t want to hook up.”
“That’s a relief.”
“And I don’t want to have this pressure of making it the best night of my life. I just want to chill.”
“Can you go with one group to dinner and the prom and then go with the other afterward?”
“I guess,” Amanda said.
“You’re just so in demand, sweetie,” her mother stroked her straight black hair. “Look, I’ve been teaching for twenty-five years, and I’ve seen my share of drama heading into these final months. Look, the trick to nights like these is not to set big expectations. Let things happen. Live in the moment. Don’t put pressure on yourself to do what the crowd is doing. Do what feels right for you.”
Amanda thought about it. When she thought about it that way, she knew exactly what she wanted to do. Some people wouldn’t be happy, but they would tough it out. She worked too hard over the past few years not to take control of her own life for at least one night.
About The Piano Man Chronicles
Piano Man, written by the fictional author Thomas Eberle, is a creative spark that connects a wide variety of stories, like a quiet ripple. I am writing three‑part arcs that introduce new people, new places, and new turning points, but the shared thread is how this one book nudges something in each of them.
Some characters read it.
Some argue with it.
Some only know it because someone they love won’t stop talking about it.
But for all of them, The Piano Man becomes a spark — a moment of reflection, change, or connection.
Guest authors, such as Sandolore Sykes, are contributing their own takes on the story, creating a wide world of literary interconnection. This project is meant to feel like wandering through a neighborhood at dusk, catching glimpses of lives in motion. You’re not following one plot; you’re following the echo of a story inside a story, watching how art lands differently in every life it touches.
The Birthday Party Underground
When washed-up rocker Cole takes a pity gig at his nephew’s birthday party, he expects juice boxes, tantrums, and the slow death of his dignity. What he doesn’t expect is applause, cash, and a new career path—one paved with glitter, chaos, and the occasional piñata-related injury.
Welcome to the children’s party circuit, where the princesses aren’t Disney-approved, the clowns have criminal records, and the magicians might be dabbling in more than sleight of hand. As Cole dives deeper into this surreal subculture, he finds himself entangled in illicit rendezvous with moms (divorced, married, and morally flexible), navigating the drug-laced underbelly of suburban affluence, and dodging emotional landmines disguised as balloon animals.
But beneath the costumes and confetti lies a question Sam can’t escape: Is this his second act or just another detour on the road to self-destruction?
Eberle’s Piano Man is a tragicomic romp through the absurdity of reinvention, where the music never stops, but the consequences keep piling up. Sharp, irreverent, and unexpectedly tender, it’s a backstage pass to the party you never knew you wanted to crash.
“A rock ballad wrapped in confetti and regret. Eberle’s prose is as sharp as a broken guitar string.”
— Javier Stone, author of The Last Encore
“Thomas Eberle has written the most unwholesome children’s party novel imaginable—and I mean that as high praise.”
— Mira Caldwell, author of Suburban Gothic
“A hilarious, heartbreaking descent into the party circuit’s glittery underworld. Think Almost Famous meets Bad Moms with a dash of Hunter S. Thompson.”
— The Sacramento Tribune