A story of an innocent high school romance unfolds as two teenagers come to learn their mutual interest. This passion that they both share brings them to build a wonderful friendship. But what will happen when they start to realise that they want to...
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"...I don't really have any friends..."
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You woke up to your usual weekday phone alarm, slamming your hand down to turn the cursed tone off. You picked up your phone to make sure you didn't break the damn thing, inspecting it to find no new cracks on the screen. You were relieved, but still annoyed as you read the bold numbers that showed on the lock-screen: 7:00 am. You were so sure it wasn't fair for school to make children wake up at such an early hour. You already missed the weekend.
The two free days had gone past in a blur, really. You didn't do much. Well, you slept, and ate, made dinner, washed up some dishes, and went on a short walk to get groceries for your mom, but that was about all. It was your usual weekend. You never really hang out with your friends on weekends since, well you didn't really have friends, so your weekends were always sort of bland.
But it was Monday now. The horrible day, dreaded by all students who still have any sanity left. The worst part? You had to get out of BED.
You slowly, but surely, rolled out of bed and dragged your tired body to stand before your closet. You spotted your newly ironed uniform on a stool that sat beside your horribly messy excuse for a closet. Your mom must've ironed it this morning before leaving for work. You smiled, thankful for having such a good mother, it has been hard on her since your father's been working overseas for over a year now and she's typically had to look after you as a single mother would.
You shook away your thoughts, retuning to the matter at hand. If you were being honest, you would much rather show up at school in pyjama shorts and an oversized All Might shirt, but you forced your self to slip out of your comfy clothes and into your uniform.
You almost fell down the stairs on your way to the kitchen, slapping some bread in the toaster and grabbing the butter and jam from the fridge.
You made sure that you had properly packed your schoolbag, zipping it shut before you grabbed your jam toast and tucked it between your teeth. You slipped your shoes on and sped out the door, ready or not-so-ready for another painful day of school.
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The first few classes of the day swept by surprisingly fast. You didn't mind these sort of days; mathematics was relatively easy, and for the rest of the lessons, before lunch, you were working on an individual project in music. You were given quite a vague criteria, so you decided to have some fun with it. You were writing your own song. So far, you had only gotten down some rhythmic patterns and guitar melodies. You had come up with a pretty cool chord progression though, you thought. You were just stuck with the lyrics. For once in your life, you were having a harder time with the singing aspect of music, than the guitar. Nothing in the criteria ever said that writing lyrics was necessary, but it just felt like a vital part of your song was missing.
