CHAPTER 3

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Songs:

Vanessa Carlton - A Thousand Miles

Jordin Sparks - One Step At A Time

Natasha Bedingfield - Unwritten

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I knock on Tweek's home door and it opens a few seconds later.

"Hey," I grin at Tweek as he opens it.

He smiles back a bit, "Hey," and moves to the side letting me in.

"So what did you want to do today?" I ask as he shuts the door.

"I was thinking we could watch movies and talk and stuff," he tells me walking into the living room, "that's what people do when they hang out right?"

"Yup, pretty much," I shrug.

I take my boots off and go and sit on the couch. Tweek walks over to the T.V holding a small stack of movie discs and puts one into the dvd player. And think back briefly on what he just said about what people do when they hang out. Only then do I notice how rare I actually ever see him talk to anyone at school at all, because usually he keeps to himself most of the time.

"Alright..." Tweek says after putting in the first dvd and backing up from the T.V with a remote in hand.

"What are we going to watch?" I ask.

"You'll see," he says, taking a seat next to me on the couch.

A menu pops up on the T.V screen saying 'Mamma Mia', and I have the sinking suspicion that a lot, if not all, of the movies in that stack are going to be similar to this one.

A few musical marathon hours later, we take a break from the movies and talk a bit.

"You really like musical theater stuff huh?" I ask.

Tweek nods his head, "Yeah, just something about it, the music in it I think, that just inspires me to want to play more."

I smile, "That inspiration really shines through in your music, you play really beautifully."

"You... really think that?" he asks sheepishly.

"Yeah man, you play so freaking well!" I exclaim.

One of his hands tugs lightly on a small strand of hair at the back of his head. His gaze averts as if thinking about something.

"I'm still surprised you're not entering into that music contest, if people heard you play I'm sure they would love it just as much as I do," I say.

He looks down, moving his hand away from his neck to his lap.

"I don't think so," he mumbles quietly.

"Well I do," I tell him, he glances at me, "when I listen to you play, it's like I feel like I'm somewhere else for a while, somewhere where I can just forget about reality for a bit and just let my mind float. I feel like I can just be for once and not have to worry about the shittier things in life. The way you play is really something extraordinary."

His eyes widen and his face seems to almost redden a bit, he looks away.

"Y-you're being way too nice about it! I don't think I'm really that good at it," he says, shaking his head.

"I'm being honest," I tell him without hesitation.

He squeezes his hand in the other, "Do you really think I should enter a contest like that?"

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