You're My Spark

5 \\ Cotton

[sorry if I took this down after you read it the first time, glitching problems happened and I had to fix it so your comments were the sacrifice. Sorry!]

[T O M]

I picked up the box full of amp chords, chucking at at full force across the room, it smashing into the wall with a crash. The box cracked, the chords and capos scattering onto the floor of the studio.

I screamed. "This is bullshit!"

"Calm the fuck down Tom!"

"You're not in my fucking shoes Tony, don't act like you know how I feel, because you don't and never will."

~•~

[A N N E T T E]

I stepped into the studio, sucking a deep breath into my lungs and dumping my bag on to the hook on the wall. The place was miraculously clean (it never used to be) and as silent as hell. My ankle boots clicked across the floor, my arms full of folders, books and work sheets.

My lesson began in half an hour and I decided to get here a little earlier today just to get myself in the mindset. Today was an especially cloudy, overcast day and it was kinda warm and cozy in the studio, making it feel homely.

I sat down on the leather piano stool after dumping the books and papers on the glossy surface of the top of my baby grand piano. My fingers touched the keys, taping the cautiously, unsure of whether to play something of my own or not.

I stared across at the stands, shelfs and boxes of our music equipment. Thousands went in to what was in this studio, but every dollar was well spent. In here alone we had three acoustic guitars (mine, Tom and Daniel's), three electrics (Mine and Tom's as well as a spare one for Eli and Daniel if they want it), 2 keyboards (Daniel and I's), a bass guitar (Eli's) my baby grand piano and my violin, as well as Hunters silver drum kit and various hand drums. Many amps, microphones, capos and tuners, most bought by Tom and I- well in fact, most of this stuff was Tom and I's, we didn't hesitate to buy instruments for the guys if they needed it. Although now, the guys have brand new ones for the tour, these ones weren't so important and would probably get sold.

I could play every instrument well, I wasn't very good at drums, but Hunter said with a bit of practice I'd get there. I guess this place was my own jamming space, but it felt so lonely that I didn't have the courage to make any music on my own. This space wasn't worth it on my own. It wasn't the same.

I walked over to the guitars and picked up Tom's red electric, the glossy burgundy-red coloured surface dusty because it hadn't been touched in a long time. I walked to the rusted looking filing cabinets, sliding open the second draw from the top open and grabbing an amp chord. I brought it over to the amp itself, plugging it in. I swung the strap over my shoulder, resting the guitar against my body and flicked on the amp- the first time in a month I'd picked up a guitar.

And for a moment, I closed my eyes and saw the crowd screaming, jumping, dancing.. smiling.

I strummed against the strings, the chord humming through the amp. I flicked up the volume, flicked up the bass and strummed faster, changing my fingers to different positions for chords. At first I just played, standing still, staring in the full sized mirror across the room. I wasn't playing anything in particular, I just played for the sake, making up patterns, testing rifts, changing the strumming.

But then I began to sing, finding a few chords in particular that I liked.

If I trust you with my heart, do you promise not to break it? My heart isn't a toy, I won't let you fake it. I want you in my grasp, but your world sets me free.
Run away with me. Run away with me.