Untuned Strings

One

A soft, melancholic tune could be heard coming from an open window of a messy apartment. A warm breeze made the thin curtains rustle, but the boy on the bed didn't seem to care as he strummed away on his beloved guitar. It was a melody that he'd made up himself, and it'd been stuck in his head for hours, so he figured it was time to see how it'd sound when he played it. He hummed a bit while he played the guitar, sometimes throwing in bits of lyrics.

"Jordie!" A voice called from a different room. The boy sat up and stopped strumming.

"Yes, Mum?" He asked, putting his guitar aside. His mother probably needed him to help her out with some kind of household chore.

"Could you come here for a sec?" His mother asked, sounding excited. She rarely sounded excited. Jordie sighed and stood up, cursing under his breath as he nearly knocked his guitar to the floor in the process.

He walked over to his bedroom door and opened it, stepping into the living room - yes, the apartment was that small.

He found his mother on the couch, smoking - as usual - with a grin on her freckled face, her fiery hair tied in a messy bun. She had something in her hand, but he couldn't see what it was. He took a step closer and tilted his head, obviously wanting to find out what his mother was holding.

"What's that?" Jordie asked curiously, lightly tapping his fingers on his thighs. His mother only grinned wider.

"What does it look like, Jojo?" She replied, holding the object out to him. It was a small, brown leather notebook. Jordie took it from her and started to flip through the pages. "Was this... Dad's?" He asked softly, tracing the messy writings with his finger. He recognized the handwriting, he'd seen it on old letters and documents.

Jordie continued to flip through the pages, a bit confused. "But why-" he started, but the words died in his throat when he reached a page full of hasty scribbles and a lot of crossed out words. They were lyrics, Jordie realized. "Dad was a musician..?" he asked softly. 

Jordie flipped another page, and on the next page was a messy music sheet. It had a few guitar chords scribbled on it, and Jordie's lips tugged upward. He suddenly closed the notebook and hastily thanked his mother, before running back to his bedroom, almost stumbling over the coffee table.