Static Sound (Muke)

fifteen

// fifteen // luke //

It was hard keeping track of the days going by, spending every weekend writing and rehearsing and recording on a new camera we all pitched in to buy.

The school year had gone so fast, our last day of being the year 10 was coming up. It felt good, we felt pretty accomplished and grown now.

Both mine and Mikey's hair began turning back to normal, but one Sunday after practice we went down to the store to buy some more dye. I'd actually grown to hate my black hair, and was glad when it started fading, I picked out a blonde that was near identical to my natural hair colour that I decided to use.

Mikey actually turned out to love his new hair, and this time picked out a darker shade of the brown then he'd had before. I honestly thought it was the cutest thing with his hair brown; not that I didn't like his natural blonde, they way it looked brown plus the way he starting doing it lately was absolutely gorgeous.

We ran upstairs to set everything up. We pulled gloves and brushes and bowls out from under the sink and brought up the same YouTube video on the laptop that Ashton used when he did it for us.

Michael had very soft hands. He always seemed to be really focused and committed to the work he started, which meant a lot to me. He was so dedicated and willing to do what needed to be done; not even that. If he wanted something done badly enough, he would go for it. And that's what I loved about him. If he was truly in need of something, he'd do whatever it took to make it all happen in the best way possible.

"Hold still," He tells me, grabbing onto little pieces of my hair and starting to put the colour into it. I do as I am told and wait for him to do what he needs.

Though Mikey was typically calm and willing, I happened to be impatient as fuck. It was hard for me to sit still for longer than five minutes without the urge to get up and do something. Although, it seemed that when Michael was in the room treating me, I forgot about the urge to get up and leave because all I wanted to do anymore was spend my time with him. I would wait forever as long as I was waiting for him.

He finished in about 20 minutes, and soon it was my turn to do the same to him. I did, but it took an even longer time than he did for mine. We talked about school and whatever shit at first, but after being in the same spot for over an hour had us get pretty deep into stuff. We talked over our beliefs and how we feel about it and certain rights we are given, and got real technical; but we agreed with each other about everything. The two of us weren't that different at all.

Soon, both of our hair was finished and all we had to do was wash it out and blow dry it. I was happy that mine was going back to normal, Mikey looked happy that his was turning out different again, too. He showered first, then told me he was going to hang around the studio while I showered and cleaned up.

I hopped in and washed the extra colouring out of my hair. It didn't take long at all, and in no time I was out and blow drying my hair. It was on for awhile, but right when I shut it off, I could hear Mikey playing in the other room. What he was doing on the guitar sounded phenomenal, nothing I'd ever heard from him before. It also wasn't a song I'd heard before, something that he'd written perhaps. I put the blow dryer on the counter and slip on some clothes, rushing over to the next door room.

I open the door ever so slightly, just enough so I can listen to the lyrics without him noticing I had been.

"Hey, we're taking on the world, I'll take you where you wanna go. I'll pick you up if you fall to pieces, let me be the one to save you.."

He strummed lightly with one of the abandoned untuned guitars we'd kept up here for so long by itself because all the other equipment was in the garage. He slid he fingers up and down the fret board and played more intense once he got further into the song.