Between Chords and Paragraphs (Polin fanfic) EN

Chapter 1

Colin

Sittin' on the dock of the bay...

The rain soaked my shoes, splashing with each step, marking the rhythm of my strides. The raindrops seemed to dance for me, and I was enjoying it as if I were in a completely different world.

The clouds adorned my stage, occasionally letting a ray of sunlight through, which in my mind were the flashes of spotlights. My laptop bag was enough to simulate a guitar. I closed my eyes, and there it was: a dark stage, a lot of applause, and in the midst of overwhelming silence, with my Gibson Les Paul, I started playing my favorite song. Thousands of lighters lit up, moving from side to side to the rhythm of the song, and with no other illumination, I was starring in the concert of my life.

"I'm home, Marina." I dropped the bag at the entrance, waved to my roommate, and went to my room. I grabbed a chocolate bar from the basket hanging on my door handle, closed the door, and dove back into my world.

Every time I think of you...

With the music playing on the speakers of my record player, I sat at my desk and resumed the notes I had started studying the previous afternoon. I was already in my fourth year of Journalism, and honestly, I still wasn't sure why I chose this career. Four years ago, I would never have thought that the future awaiting me was to sit daily in an office writing for some petty newspaper in my hometown, London. However, the pressure from my older brother, Anthony, got to me; I still remember the words he said the day I told him I wanted to be a singer, "Colin, be realistic, how many artists can make a living from it?" And he was right, I already knew that the music industry might not be a bed of roses, but it was, I repeat, it was, what I wanted. So, with my spirits low and my brother's words echoing in my brain, I decided to study journalism.

- Colin, I've made pasta for lunch, are you coming down? - Marina said, poking her head through my room's door.

Without getting up from the desk chair, I looked at my door. Marina, Marina Thompson, my roommate for two years now. Brunette, with black curly hair that brushed her hips as she walked, with brown eyes like oak wood, narrowed by the kind smile she was giving me. The truth is that I had always liked Marina, from the first day I met her, she was a great girl in her first year of Biology. I remember how she introduced herself with a mix of shyness and fear, giving me a nervous half-smile. Now, two years later, she was my best friend, my greatest confidant.

I went down to the dining room, helped set the table, and sat down to eat.

- How was class today, jerk? - She smiled and stuck her tongue out playfully.

- Fine, as always, boring, nothing new. And you? What did you do today? - I smiled back and winked my right eye to return the joke.

- I had lab practice at the university, you know, cutting open rats, crushing still-warm organs, very appetizing. - She put the fork in her mouth.

- That's disgusting, Marina, we're eating! - I made a face of disgust.

Then she burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but join in, so my disgusted face turned into a momentary laughing fit. That was something I liked about Marina, her simplicity, and her ability to make everything seem easier.

The afternoon didn't look interesting, notes here, notes there, studying and more studying. I should have finished my degree two years ago, so I couldn't afford to fail another subject, or Anthony would take measures and put me in the family business. Don't get me wrong, I love spending time with my family, it's just that working with Anthony and Benedict, eight hours a day, just thinking about it seemed exhausting. So I planned to ace the audiovisual language exam next week.