Unknown | Warren Rojas

Scott Street

Aza was shaken awake early the next morning by Rod Reyes. She pushed him off her bed before rolling over and slamming a pillow over her head, causing the five new people in her home to laugh.

"Told ya she's a bitch to wake up," Rod laughed with them.

"Get out of my house motherfucker," she ground out, though it was muffled by the pillow. Then she jumped out of the bed. "Oh God, I'm sorry, I'm being a terrible host. Good morning beautiful people that are staying with me." She then turned to Rod. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you too, Sunshine. Play me a song." Aza scoffed.

"You serious? You break into my home early in the morning to make me play you a song?" As she questioned the man, she pulled her long brown hair into a bun, a few strands remained to frame her face.

"Yes. I wanted a sad song at sunrise. Is that too much to ask for Sunshine?"

"Fine," Aza grumbled out, dragging the man by his sleeve down to the recording room, sitting on the end of Warren's makeshift bed, which surprisingly he had already made. "Fucking morning people," she said under her breath as she turned the mic on, causing everyone to stifle a laugh as it caught her grumbling. 

"Just so everyone here is aware, Rod likes me to write him sad pop songs because he's a lovesick teenage girl at heart." She rolled her eyes as everyone laughed, looking at Rod to see if it was true.

Rod Reyes: What can I say, when she wrote those poppy little sad songs it tugged on my heart strings.

"Your life experience is very interesting to listen to in song form," Rod supplied with a shrug.

"Warren," Aza called him over. "This is weird because you don't know this song at all. Neither do I actually, but I can figure that out. Anyway I need you on drums. Something along these lines," she trailed off, giving him a very simple beat, not sure where she'd go with this song. 

"Eddie," she called this time, handing him an electric guitar, not his usual base, making the blond boy's eyes light up. "Something like this," she said, giving him another simple beat. "Sorry boys, I know it's not much to play. I'm writing this right now, so it's nothing special." Both boys grinned at each other.

"Glad you trust me with your guitar," Eddie said, fist bumping the brunette. 

"Okay so, oh God let me think for a sec, you two play your part for a sec." They, did, and Aza just stared, jaw dropped. 

"What Az?" Rod asked her. 

"It's a simple beat, that sounded fantastic. Better than anything that simple should. They're good, Rod. I mean, this band, it's going somewhere." Rod just nodded at her.

"I know." 

"Uh...I mean okay, let me start it out with... with acoustic and once it gets a decent beat going...make up what you want, I mean, if it throws off the beat at all it's okay, I'll adjust. I have some lyrics I've been playing with for the days he," she jerks her head at Rod, "Pulls this shit. Soo welcome to L.A., I suppose."

Aza then set up her mic and stuffed a folded up paper towel in her acoustic guitar. She looked at Rod, "This one's for the last time we met an amazing band. Setting the tone nice and somber, 'kay?" Rod furrowed his brows, but nodded nonetheless.

 Then Aza began her morning concert for Rod Reyes, her adopted father in every right.