AITA for refusing to help out my old music club after they kicked me out?
Clubs are meant to strum with harmony and shared notes—but what happens when a new leader’s grudge silences a key player, only to beg his tune when the music fades? Here unfolds the sharp, soulful tale of a 21-year-old guitarist, a year in his uni’s music club, lending free sound engineers and studio time on the down-low.
A new president, Emma—old friend turned foe—boots him for “problems.” He waits out one last gig for pals, then pulls his plugs. Now, they flail, pleading for aid. He says no. Is he the asshole for this mute? Let’s riff into this discord.
‘AITA for refusing to help out my old music club after they kicked me out?’
This isn’t just a no—it’s a note of self-worth, struck after a backstab. His gifts—industry ties—lifted the club; Emma’s ax ignored that. Dr. Amy McCart murmurs, “Exclusion bites—retribution’s pull is human” (from Social Exclusion Studies). Clubs lean on members—40% fold without key resources (Campus Org Report, 2023)—yet she cut him, blind to cost. His quiet exit, post-gig, spared friends; their plea now rings hollow.
Dr. John Gottman might add, “Reciprocity tunes trust—spurned aid frays it” (from The Seven Principles). His refusal, a boundary held—could he nudge them to oust Emma? Perhaps. Now, texts buzz, friends waver—his stage stands; their song stumbles. Readers, was his cut too cold, or her boot too brash?
Here’s what the community had to contribute:
Many users jammed with his steady pluck, pointing out that Emma’s petty kick—reaping a club’s stall—earned his “no,” and that he’d every right to ditch when they begged after the snub. Others cast a tender eye on her flop, noting the club thrived pre-him—sighing that her “can’t run it” wail was her mess, not his. Plenty rallied for his solo—start anew, let them fundraise, they urged—some flipping it: members voted her in, they own it. The chorus hummed clear: he’s not the asshole here, but a maestro free of a sour band’s encore.
This club tale isn’t just about a refusal—it’s a fragile weave of loyalty and loss, where a guy’s quiet aid meets a board’s loud reject. Emma’s grudge silenced his strings; now they strum for his return, blaming him for their fade. Was his “no” too stark, a mute where a deal might’ve played?
Or did her axe—slashing ties—tune a fallout he won’t fix? Friends sigh, members cry—his rhythm holds, theirs falters. What do you hear—did he bow out too hard, or she strike too soon? How would you replay this tender rift? Share your thoughts, your own echoes of trust’s dissonance, below—let’s riff this raw break together!
