This story is a work of fiction. Names, some places, and characters are created by my imagination only. Some of it are based from real life. Any resemblance to actual persons, name, and events are purely coincidental (or could be intended).
Not true, okay?
All rights reserved (c) unicornsareshiz
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August 2005
We would often describe summer as—tantalizing, sweat-filled, crazy nights, hot days, hypnotizing. Summer was the definition of the year where leaves would turn into a different shade; heat radiating from each of everyone's bodies and then it was the definition of freedom from everything—like it was having a new beginning from an end. And within those months and days and hours and seconds of having no sleep at all, laughing, doing the things you've really wanted to do. There was no restriction.
It was summer.
The minute I hit high school, it was a part of me that wanted to be something—someone. And then I loved how my fingers strummed against the strings of the guitar. There was something inside me stirred. Then I started to write love songs for girls, and sad songs for boys. I sang for myself. I sang for how the world revolves ridiculously. I sang for my parents. There were just words pouring from inside of me and I couldn't stop them.
There are some times I would stare off at class, barely hearing the echoes of my teachers on my ear. Then thoughts would form into words and then all my words into writing.
As I stared into the window
I'd start to think of the days I feel alone
Some days were hollow
Some days were just like a rolling stone
The first time I hung out with Will and Joe was a fortunate incident. It came out from the moment I left the little journal of free verses I wrote during classes. I had to get it back, and Will was holding it, reading it when I came back. He asked me: "this yours?"
"Yeah."
"Cool."
I shrugged.
"It's really good."
At one point, they asked me if I had time. And I did have it. We were talking in the park, having a conversation that lasted all afternoon about our commons and sometimes bickering about our differences. It was fun. Then it was turning dark. We all went back to Joe's place after that. He told me his parents made their house basement as his bedroom so they didn't have to hear him play the guitar during midnight.
"We record us playing acoustic covers. Then upload it on the Myspace," Will said.
"Cool. What songs do you play?"
"Anything. Mostly Blink, Arctic Monkeys—Greenday. Misfits."
"Cool."
"You play songs?" Josh asked.
"Yeah. Nickleback. U2. But sometimes just random songs, or my songs. Whatever."
"Awesome. You wanna hitch it off and do some singing with us? We could record it."
"Right now?"
"Why not?"
I paused. Why not? "Ok sure."
"That's more like it," Will said.
YOU ARE READING
What A Song Could Do
Short StoryRemember the time when Daniel started his band? He started to sing love songs for boys and girls. Some boys and some girls. But a boy in particular. (c) unicornsareshiz | short story (boyxboy)