Journey || Erik Durm

♂

ERIK:

                     I awoke the next morning to the gentle strumming of guitar, and as the melody unwinded, I wondered if I was still in a state of deep sloom. The succession felt as if it were stripped from a dream, somehow flawless for the lyrics I had composed for Lotte—the one Mario had read yesterday—sometime ago.

But then I opened my eyes—discerned the sun streaming in through the closed blinds—and realized that this serenade—wherever it was coming from—was a part of my immediate reality.

I emerged from the floor, and fixing a blanket atop Lotte so that it safeguarded her body from chills, followed the source of the noise to the balcony. The moment I stepped outside, Amber, who had been playing, halted in motion, her eyes lazily falling upon me.

"Morning," she said.

"Good morning."

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah."

"Good to hear."

"What about you?"

"I've slept better," she said wearily. "Sorry about you and Trev last night, by the way. I just want you to know, no hard feelings, okay?"

"It's cool," I assured, shoving my hands inside of my pockets. Although last night's blizzard had subsided, the air felt chillier this morning than ever. "You play good guitar, Amber," I continued, "but can I suggest you follow a A, D, E, A progression instead of D and A?"

She strummed the chords, baffled by the outcome. "Shit, Erik. This sounds good."

"It does."

"You play?"

"Just a little. Can I add on to the tune?"

Amber sheepishly handed over the guitar. "Sure. It's a work in progress."

I took a hold of it, sliding the straps over my head to position it comfortably over my shoulders. Placing one hand on the lower fret and the other falling against the chords, I began strumming the progression Amber had insinuated, cautiously adding more to the intricate melody, broadening the scope of rhythms.

She giggled, listening with intent. "This is actually spectacular."

"Do you have any lyrics?" I questioned over the music.

"Not even close."

"Reach into my pocket and pull out my phone," I told her.

"You have lyrics prewritten to this? Erik, what are you—a superhero?"

I chuckled, moving closer to Amber. "Not even close, but I did a shit ton of writing this fall. I was going through something weird."

She reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. "The password?"

I told her the password. "And open the notepad app," I added, "Open the one titled Charlotte."

"Charlotte?"

I nodded, feeling a surge of warmth gathering on my cheeks.

"So you wrote this song for Charlotte?" Amber asked. I had—written it for her, I mean—and last night, after discovering that it was Lotte's birthday, I had revisited the lyrics, tweaking and finishing them in hopes of performing it to her soon as a belated birthday gift. I couldn't believe she hadn't told me about the importance of the day beforehand.

But it made sense.

Why would she?

I had given her no reason to tell me anything.