Ruby

When Bodies Fall

It had been two weeks since they moved into Ridgepoint, and so far, Ruby had no reason to complain. The place was cozy, and the transition had been smoother than he expected. By now, he had met most of his neighbors—friendly, welcoming who seemed genuinely interested in getting to know him. There was Mrs. Thompson from next door, an old lady who always greeted him with a warm smile, and Mr. and Mrs. Rodriguez, Jasper's parents, who often invited him to join them for dinner.

Soon, though, summer would come to an end, and it would be time for Ruby to start school again. The thought of it stirred a mix of nervousness and anticipation in him. A new school, new faces—he didn't know what to expect. But for now, everything felt just right, and  he allowed himself to hope that maybe, just maybe, the town could be the fresh start they had been searching for.

Ruby was in Jett's room, awkwardly strumming Jett's guitar, trying to make sense of the strings beneath his fingers. The warm glow of the desk lamp cast soft shadows across the room, contrasting with the darkness that already settled outside. Jett, meanwhile, was rummaging through his desk drawers, muttering to himself as he searched for a stack of records he wanted to play. The room had the comfortable chaos of a teenager's space—posters peeling at the edges, clothes draped over chairs, and a cluttered desk overflowing with random things.

Ruby plucked at the strings again, frowning at the sour notes that echoed back at him. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get it to sound right. He glanced up at Jett, who was now knee-deep in his search, oblivious to Ruby's struggle. Playing guitar looked easy enough when Jett did it. Now, holding it in his own hands, he realized just how much skill it actually took.

"How do you make this sound good?" Ruby muttered, half to himself, as he clumsily strummed a few more notes.

Jett glanced over with a smirk, still searching through his records. "You'll get the hang of it. Just takes practice, man. I've got some killer records that'll inspire you."

Ruby sighed, resting the guitar on his lap. "I don't think inspiration is the problem," he said, his frustration clear in his voice.

Jett chuckled, finally pulling a record from the cluttered drawer. "Yeah, well, maybe you just need little less pressure and just more practice." He walked over to the turntable, carefully placing the record one the spindle. The familiar crackle filled the room as the needle dropped, and soon, the hum of rock music began to play.

Ruby leaned back into the beanbag, staring down at the guitar in his hands. "It's like my fingers refuse to cooperate," he muttered.

Jett flopped onto his bed. "Don't sweat it. You've only been at it for like, two days. Give it a week, and you'll be better than half the guys who try to play."

Ruby smirked, but the self-doubt still lingered in the back of his mind. "Yeah, maybe," he said, glancing out the window into the darkness. The quiet street was peaceful, but somehow, Ruby couldn't shake the feeling off that something felt weird.

"How do you like this song?" Jett asked, glancing over at Ruby as he lounged on the bed. "Do you know this band?"

Ruby paused, listening intently to the melody that drifted through the room. The guitar riffs were smooth, and the singer's voice had a raw edge to it, but nothing about it seemed familiar. He furrowed his brow, trying to pull some recognition from the back of his mind.

"No, I've never heard this one," Ruby finally said, shaking his head. "Who are they?"

Jett grinned, clearly proud of his obscure find. "They're called Cigarette Kiss. Not a lot of people know them, but they're great. You like them?"

Ruby listened a little closer, trying to appreciate what Jett clearly saw in the music. As the song progressed, the rhythm grew more intricate, and the vocals intertwined perfectly with the steady guitar riffs. The more he listened, the more it pulled in him. He felt a raw emotion behind every chord, and suddenly, he understood why Jett was so into it.