short stories

II - song lyric

'You weren't perfect, but you made life worth it. Stick around some real feelings might surface'

Dane reread the lyric in his head, his eyes slowly skimming the paper, and his hand holding a pen floating a few inches away from the sheet.

It was a late night at the studio. Barely anyone was left, only him and a few of the employees who worked night shift lingered. 

A tired sigh escaped his lips, causing a single strand of hair to sway from the top of his head and land right next to his cheek. All day, his eyes were fixated on the piece of paper sitting in front of him, and all day until that hour, it laid blank and pure.

Dane heard a soft knock towards the right and for the first time, lifted his head. A woman, an employee, he thought, waved, and gestured towards the exit, her body already moving to leave for the day. 
He nodded silently in response, a tiny smile displayed across his lips, giving her a farewell.

Everyone knew of Dane. The massive influence he has over the world, with the way his words sang, and his rhythm moved.

He knew the perfect collisions between harmonies to orchestrate a song that would last lifetimes and create memories between people.

Yet here he was, slumped against a wooden chair, the creativity of his mind slowly draining from the overwhelming thoughts of his private life.

A broken heart is when you're most creative, or that is what the whispers of experiencers say, but Dane writhed in agony, clutching his head over the emptiness of ideas that filled it, or lacked thereof.

It hasn't been a week when she decided to leave him for a better life, well that were her words anyway.

'I'm sorry, Dane. You've been so engraved in your work; you don't even put effort into this relationship anymore.' She said, her body shaking from the emotional exhaustion of finally pouring everything out.

'I-I didn't know- I didn't realize, please let me make it up to you,' he responded in a pleading voice. 

She shook her head, tightening her mouth as she attempted to hold back the tears. 'I'm afraid you can't do that anymore.' 

'Look, we've had our ups and downs, tried to fight through it, and in most, we won. But I can't find a good reason for this,' she continued shakily, 'last night, I saw at a party with some girl I didn't even know.'

Dane shook his brain, trying to remember what happened yesterday. It was hectic. The after party of his recent win from the grammy's and the constant flow of people congratulating him made the events of last night blurry. 

She waited for a response; her eyes boring into his with a message along with it. And for what the message was, he was confused.

For a full-blown minute, he racked his head for answers, attempting to remember what happened, but as he searched, she stared more intensely, her tears threatening to spill.

From that moment, he realized. He realized the burning emotion she held within those sorrowful brown eyes. Denial.

She wanted him to deny it. To say that it wasn't him she saw with a girl last night. To say that her imagination was running wild, and her anxiety was consuming her. 

He saw the desperation in her eyes as she tried to grasp any last remaining reasons as to why she should stay. And from there, he felt an overwhelming sensation of grief and guilt.

It started from his toes, it tingled with stitching pain and crawled all the way up his body as he began to remember what truly happened. 

They had a fight an hour before. How he wasn't giving her enough time and how she wanted to leave the fame for even just a split second, but he refused.

Dane refused because he was blinded. The idea of power, fame and money corrupted his mind, and made him forget anything that was special to him. And that night, the anger hissed at him with cursed words, possessing his heart, causing him to betray his morals. 

As realization hit him, the expression on his face revealed everything she needed to know.

She lowered her head and spun around fiercely. No words returned between them.

He did not cry out. He couldn't. The ability to think wisped out of his mind, and he stood there, frozen like a block of ice. 

Again, a knock brought him out of his thoughts.

The woman from earlier came back with a key in her hand, telling him she forgot it and bidding him good-bye once again.

He watched her walk out, making sure she left before going back to the paper he was reading.

Of course, by now the news has spread of
his relationship bursting in hell flames. Some people believed, and they always liked to believe a false claim, and started to point fingers of who broke who's heart.

There were those went as far as to harass the both of them, clawing for answers to put on the newspapers, which resulted in shutting himself in his studio. 

It has been a hectic week, Dane thought, and sighed loudly, fixating his gaze once more on the paper in front of him.

It sat there obediently, waiting for the musician to fill it with words of art and weave a beautiful piece together. He read again the lyric he wrote, 

'You weren't perfect, but you made life worth it. Stick around some real feelings might surface'

And thought of her. And only her.