𝕌𝕟𝕥𝕚𝕥𝕝𝕖𝕕 [𝕂. ℍ𝕖𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕟𝕓𝕖𝕣𝕘]

Chapter 1

A soft breeze swept by as Y/n focused on the papers in her hands. The sun had nearly sunk below the horizon, giving the sheet a blueish hue. Her back was pressed against the tree, and she felt the coarse bark poke against her shirt. The branches above her moved in a steady, gentle sway and the leaves trembled as a breeze drifted by. She listened to the steady rhythm, treating it as a natural metronome.

“Y/n!”

Maybe I should start with a c sharp. The blank music sheet intimidated her and she second-guessed herself. Actually, g sharp might be better.

“Y/n!”

She hummed along the unused lines. Her eyes followed imaginary notes, trying to create the building blocks for something special out of nothing. She could almost hear the first signs of a soft melody beginning to form in her mind. Y/n wondered what sort of story the song was going to tell.

“Hey! Ms. Workaholic! I know you can hear me! Sit down by the campfire with us!”

Four figures huddled around the orange glow several yards away. Their eyes were glued to her direction. The paper in Y/n’s hand rustled as another breeze ran by. With a quiet groan, she tucked the bare music sheet into her journal. “Alright, I hear ya.”

“It’s about time!” Monica flashed a smile. Y/n took a seat on the dirt between her and Noah. She tucked her short blonde hair behind her ears. “We thought you’d be sulking all night.”

“I wasn’t sulking. Just-” Y/n paused, “thinking.”

Her fingers rubbed against her journal, feeling the engraved design on the leather cover. It reminded her of all the music sheets she hadn't filled out yet. A sense of disappointment hung over her like a cloud.

The journal slipped from her grasp, and the next thing she knew, Noah had it in his hands. He peeled back the cover and turned to the first music sheet. It was blank. One page after the next, he confirmed Y/n hadn’t jotted down a single note. An impish smirk crossed his lips and he raised his brow. “Looks like you're having a hard time."

Alexa leaned forward, hugging her knees to her chest. Her dark eyes reflected off the campfire’s glow. “You know, when Monica invited you, we didn’t expect you to spend most of the trip trying to come up with a composition. We hoped you’d enjoy yourself, find inspiration, and write songs when we all returned to America. How many people can say they’ve taken a break from life and left for a foreign country?"

As usual, Alexa was the calm and patient voice of reason—the mom of the group.

Again, four pairs of eyes found their way in Y/n’s direction. She looked down at the campfire. “Alright, alright. You win. I’ll try not to look at my journal so much.”

“So you don’t mind if we confiscate this?” Noah waved the journal in his hand.

Y/n's heart jumped into her throat. Her brows knitted together as her eyes fixed on the leather-bound book. No, no, no. He's going to bend the cover.

She feigned a smile and shook her head. Y/n tried to keep her composure as she spoke. “No. No, of course not. As long as you give it back when we board the plane.”

“My God, miracles can happen.” Y/n gave the girl sitting off to the side a quick glare. Out of everyone in the group, she didn’t expect Amber to join in. Her dark eyes squinted as she smiled, and she let out a small, mousey giggle.

Several loud claps sounded in front of Y/n. The group turned to Alexa. “Great, now that's settled, let's drink.”

Noah jumped to his feet. He waved the journal in his hand once again. Y/n pressed her lips in a tight line and folded her hands in her lap. She fought her urge to snatch it from him. Noah motioned his head to his tent. “I’ll grab the stuff. I need to hide this anyway.”