Words and Music

Fall

Fall » Justin Bieber

"You can't fly unless you let yourself fall."

The shrieking pitch of the doorbell burst through his eardrums.

His mum lifted him off the countertop and set him down on his feet. After quickly washing her hands, she strode toward the door, and he ran behind her. She answered the door just as a knock hit it.

"We just wanted to stop by and say hi," said a sweet, bubbling voice of a woman. "I'm Cristina; this is Angel. We're your new neighbor—sorry, were you in the middle of something?"

He peeked from behind his mum's legs.

The woman had a pleasant smile, and when she saw him, it widened.

"Oh, hi, yes, just baking," his mum dusted her apron with a sheepish chuckle and then offered her hand to the woman, "nice to meet you! Hello, Angel!" She waved her fingers up and down.

The woman pushed the little girl forward, who stared shyly at the floor, and that's when he noticed her for the first time.

The girl wore a white sundress, its light skirt flowing above her knees. Her hair—the color of wheat glistening in the field—braided into two tiny ropes on both sides of her head. When she finally looked up, her jade-colored eyes shone like diamonds.

She reminded him of the angel statuette on their mantelpiece. So pretty.

"We've got a little friend here. Say hi, dear," the woman urged the little girl.

The girl had a funny look on her face. An amused glint in her eyes as she eyed him. He looked down at himself, confused at her expression, and dusted the flour on his shirt. His mum wiped his cheek with her thumb, giggling.

"Hi," the girl finally said, a smile accompanying the word.

"Justin?" The very same voice calls out, breaking him out of his thoughts. "I knew you'd be here," she sticks her torso out the window, climbing deftly onto the roof.

"Hey," he offers his hand in a force of habit, and she holds tight, carefully sitting next to him, her legs dangling over the edge.

Angel and Justin have been best friends since that day. They grew up together, running around with scraped knees, sharing a secret language, and having so many in-jokes that people often gave blank looks at their humor.

"You seem to spend a lot of time up here nowadays," she says, her voice soft and her look inquisitive.

They sit in comfortable silence, gazing at the setting sun as the wind ruffles their hair. The sky is a painting of an array of pink, orange, and yellow, the clouds fading and the pale glow of the moon unveiling.

Justin cracks a smile, his dangled feet gently hitting the bricks beneath them. "I like the stillness up here," he says quietly without looking at her. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

She hums in agreement. "Yes, it is."

"How is Alex?" He asks cautiously, referring to her boyfriend.

He can feel her eyes on him. He keeps his face carefully blank but cannot help the shame creeping into his mind though he knows she doesn't know he knows.

The shout of anger almost rattled the watering can that he halted mid-pouring. He didn't want to eavesdrop. He only wanted to save his mum's dearest pink carnations, dying from his negligence. But they were loud enough that he overheard snippets of the heated conversation.