Cotton Candy Skies - ( The Music Freaks x Fem!Reader )

Melodies and Lyrics...

"Okay, since you'll be taking my part in the competition, we first have to create some sort of lyrics first," Y/N said, propping her head up with her palm. "The melody was originally going to be from a violin, but since you'll be singing instead, we have to change a few things up a bit."

She and Jake were currently in the Music Room. They were sitting on opposite ends of a desk with a blank, open notebook between them. The other members had already left since regularly scheduled rehearsals had just finished. Now that Zander and Jake had made amends (or whatever it is Zander thought “making amends” was), practice had gone by much more smoothly. It was a bit of a struggle to get Milly to leave, as she also wanted to stay longer to show Y/N and Jake her quote-unquote "sick guitar riffs." But with Sean and Luke's help, they managed to drag her away even with her clutching onto the doorway like a lifeline.

Jake leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head.

"Sure thing," he said. "Give me your guidelines, and I'll do my best to not completely screw it up. But I know absolutely nothing about violin music. I’m relying on you for this, Miss President."

"I'm thinking we can first lower down the octaves," Y/N said, drawing a small star on the top left corner of her notebook and jotting down a few notes next to it. "Unless you want to be screeching like a pterodactyl up on stage as you try to sing soprano, that is."

“Good call,” he said, scrunching up his face slightly. “I’ll take the lower octaves any day over sounding like a prehistoric banshee. Lower octaves, it is. Even though I’m pretty sure I could out-screech a pterodactyl any day.”

“Please, let’s not test it.”

“Fine with me,” he shrugged. He leaned closer, trying to read her notes from upside down. “What else do you have in mind?”

“Well, the rest is really up to you, isn’t it?” Y/N replied, passing the notebook to him. “It helps if you’re the one writing lyrics since you’ll be the one singing. It gets all the right emotions out, you know?”

Jake took the notebook, staring down at the blank page. He examined it like Gordon Ramsay glaring down at a raw piece of pork.

"Right, emotions," he repeated, somewhat dumbfounded, pushing the notebook back towards Y/N. "I'm not exactly good with emotions."

“Aren’t you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “From what I’ve seen, you’re quite the expressive one.”

Jake let out a dry laugh as he fidgeted with the pen.

“Well, maybe,” he said. “I’m expressive about how stupid someone looks wearing sweat pants with socks and flip-flops. But feelings? That’s uncharted territory for me. Expression isn't the same as delving into the depths of my emotions and pouring it out onto paper. I express myself through action, not through ink, Miss President.”

He paused, scratching the back of his neck.

“I’ve got nothing for this one. My brain turns into a blank slate, and my heart suddenly decides to go on vacation.”

“Who said it had to be deep and profound?” Y/N challenged, pushing the notebook back towards Jake. “We’re doing a school competition, not a rizz show. Just let your thoughts flow onto the paper. We have time to refine it later, but for now, just let it all out.”

“Well… okay,” he conceded, taking the notebook in front of him with his pen in hand. “But don’t expect some masterpiece. My thoughts tend to bounce around like a sugar high kid. You may find yourself with a page full of doodles, random movie quotes, and an odd fascination with spaghetti."