Blue Neighbourhood :: Brallie AU [COMPLETED]

one

                                                                                            O N E

                                                                                          "Fools"

                                                                  t h o u g h   i   t r y   t o   r e s i s t

                                                                        i   s t i l l   w a n t   i t   a l l

                                                                                         .       .      .

Brandon finds himself stuck staring at his piano keys in frustration; every small, insignificant piece he's tried to compose for his own amusement comes out as the same old bitter song, mostly aimed at shooting himself down. He runs a hand through his hair and huffs. He doesn't know what he's doing, glaring at the keyboard as to establish dominance.

 It's an inanimate object, Brandon. Stop.

But it's taunting me! With all it's tempting-ness and all my not-being-able-to-play-because-I-feel-like-an-idiot-ness. 

He's upset for two reasons:

He hasn't seen Callie all day and it's kind of driving him crazy.

He hates himself for going insane from not seeing Callie all day.

Brandon can't help it though, he's been secretly thrilled over their month long commitment promise since he left the kitchen that night, that he can't believe was two days ago. Feels like two weeks -- Which he's glad it isn't, by the way. That means less time pretending with Callie that everything would be okay and all together ruining their mental stability.

Wait, what?

Anyway, he thought that this entire ordeal would give him more inspiration for songs 'n that fun stuff, but apparently not. His anxiety kicked in at the worst moment and here he is, maddened by an innocent keyboard he feels like breaking in half.

He's not that strong, though. Never has been and never will be. The 'buffy-toughy' type, as Mariana labels it, isn't his thing. He's surprised girls even like it, sometimes. Like, why not prefer a guy with more weight in his brain than in his arms? 

Lena calls him down for lunch, and he groans, still tempted to skip the meal and attempt to work on a happy, upbeat song. He knows it's inevitable he presses on the minor keys, so he gives in and groggily walks downstairs. 

He didn't get any sleep the night before because he decided at the last minute to have a panic attack about everything and anything that could go wrong in the next four weeks, and it seemed like Callie was going through the same thing, because he could faintly hear the soft strum of a guitar outside. That always calmed her, and now it calmed Brandon too. He was out like a light halfway through her second song.