This Is War

Rebekah was curled up in her bed with her lyric book and guitar. Sighing heavily, she scratched out yet another lyric. She had been struggling with this song for over a week. She knew exactly what she wanted to say in her lyrics, but how to say them poetically was another story. She admitted defeat and closed the book. She started to strum her guitar, but was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"I'm coming in, I hope you're clothed!" her twin brother Jack's voice floated through the door.

"I am, I am." They had shared this room their whole life, and as such were no strangers to embarrassing walk-ins.

"Any luck?" he asked, jumping onto his bed against the wall opposite hers.

She sighed again. "Not a bit. I swear, this song will be the death of me. Wanna give me a hand?"

He quickly moved to her bed, obviously excited. Rebekah was typically very private about her lyrics, until they were completely finished. "Of course! Play me the notes you have."

She picked her guitar up from beside her, and started strumming. "I'm all good when it comes to the guitar, it's the lyrics I'm struggling with. Here," she handed him the book. "Read along." She started again, this time singing, and stopped about a minute in.

Jack sat quiet for a moment, letting the weight of the lyrics against the guitar completely sink in. Finally, he spoke. "It's amazing. Definitely one of the best you've written. I think you may be overthinking the part you're stuck on. I know you, and I know you know what you're trying to say."

"I do, but I can't put it into words."

"Yes, you can. Like I said, you're overthinking it. It will come to you, I promise."

She smiled. "I hope you're right. I think I'm really onto something with this song."

"What about Nate. Have you asked him for help?"

"I haven't asked anyone yet. Except you, of course. Think he could help?"

There was another knock at the door. "Come in." Jack beckoned. The door opened, and as if he knew they were talking about him, Nate walked in.

Nate and Jack had been friends since elementary school. He lived across the street from them for seven years. He was a junior, two years above Jack and Rebekah, but that didn't change anything. They were inseparable. And once Jack and Rebekah starting playing guitar and Nate discovered his love for singing, writing and playing music became their go-to activity when hanging out.

"What's up?" Nate asked, joining them on her bed.

"Dying." Rebekah replied, laying down dramatically.

"Don't be such a drama queen, Bekah." Jack rolled his eyes, then turned to Nate. "She's got a major case of writer's block. I don't understand why, though. This song is brilliant."

Nate didn't seem surprised. He knew how impressive her lyrics were. It was as if everyone was watching the world in black and white and she had technicolor. "Can I hear?"

Rebekah sat up quickly. "No! It's not ready yet. I can get it."

"Weren't you going to ask him for help?" said a baffled Jack.

"It's not ready. I think I can figure it out." She grabbed her lyric book and hugged it. "I can get it."

"Can I just look?" Nate pleaded. But Rebekah wasn't going to give in. Nate could write some mindblowing lyrics as well, and to be honest, it sort of intimidated Rebekah. She felt like showing him her incomplete lyrics would make him think she wasn't as good at writing as was he, and she didn't want that.

"I can get it." She said for the third time in an almost whisper, still hugging her book.

"Alright, fine." Jack gave in, standing up. "But they're really great. So, are we renting a movie tonight or not? I'm dying to see this new one that just came out."