Bullseye

Chapter 9

HEY GUYS! SO THIS CHAPTER IS REALLY EMOTIONAL, I JUST THOUGHT I'D GIVE YOU A HEADS UP.WHILE IT MAY BE A DEPRESSING CHAPTER, I PROMISE THE STORY WILL GET HAPPY AGAIN! :) THIS CHAPTER WAS NECESSARY TO EXPLAIN EVERYTHING THOUGH SO I HOPE YOU DON'T GET TOO BUMMED OUT, AND I HOPE YOU STILL ENJOY IT! LOL

The morning after my first performance felt like I the morning after my first drunken night. I had all the symptoms of a hangover, except it was from pure exhaustion and from the massive crash of no longer being high off of the vibe of the crowd.

However, my massive hangover-esque symptoms are not the cause of my headache. The significant increase in the weight of the locket around my neck is the reason. And yes, I'm fully aware the locket didn't magically gain weight over night, but the weight of my personal guilt seems to make the locket ten pounds heavier.

"Ok ok fine, I'll write the song, but only because I want this guilt to go away, not because I'm in the writing mood." I said, like the freak I am, to the picture in my locket.

I picked up my guitar and began to strum the depressing melody I settled on and before I even knew what was happening, tears were streaming down my face.

Of course, with my luck, Miles had to walk in at that exact moment...

"Hey we're going to breakfa- Oh my god! Kara, are you ok? What's wrong?? Was it one of the guys? Who do I need to punch?!"

I couldn't help but let out a weak chuckle at his weirdly overbearing concern.

Before I knew it his arms were around me and he was mumbling "it's okay" into my ear. Then he once again, this time gently, said, "Kara, please tell me why you're crying."

All I could manage to do was whisper into his chest, "I can't do it."

"Kara, you're an amazing performer! The crowd loved you last night!!"

"No, not performing. I can't write this song."

"Wait. All this crying is because you have writers block?" He asked giving me a you've-got-to-be-kidding-me look.

"Kind of, not really."

"Ok well how 'bout I help you write it."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"Because it's personal."

"All songs are personal."

"It is more personal than most songs."

"What on Earth could it be about? What, are you writing about menstruation??"

"No, then I wouldn't be blocked, the lyrics would flow from me like blood from the vag." I joked.

"That is horrifyingly disgusting." He deadpanned. "But seriously, what could be so personal that I can't help you write the song?"

"You won't be able to help me."

"I beg to differ."

"Well keep begging, buddy."

"Please, just let me help you."

"Last time I checked you weren't there to help when my brother died of cancer so I don't think you can help me write a song about it!!" I yelled out, my voice cracking in the process and a new batch of tears overflowing.

His hands suddenly dropped to his side, his embrace no longer keeping me warm.

"What did you just say?" He all but whispered.

"You heard what I said." I whispered and looked away.

"Kara, I'm so sorry, I had no idea."

"I wouldn't have expected you to."