Connection -- A Ross Lynch Story

Late Night Encounter

Insomnia was always a problem that I had faced. When it came time to sleep, my mind ran at full speed. I was constantly thinking and working through ideas when others were sound asleep in their beds. I tossed and turned before giving up completely and subtly sliding out of my bunk, careful not to wake the rest of my bandmates. Times like these were prime for writing.

The dark-stained wooden acoustic guitar laid across the lounge area couch, beckoning me. I slipped a pair of sandals on, grabbed my writing gear, and headed out into the dark night, relying on only the lot lights and the moon to see. I found a perfect place near the building where some chairs and a table sat ready to be used. Making myself at home, I flipped to a fresh page and started to pick at the strings. The beautiful sound rang through the silence.

Suddenly, I was no longer alone. From behind me, I heard feet grinding gravel beneath them as they made their way closer and closer to where I sat. My body stiffened, afraid of what was to come. "Want some company?" they asked. I turned around and saw Ross, wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt that wasn't zipped, revealing his bare chest. In his hands he held two beers, both open. He extended his arm and offered me one.

"Sure," I murmured with a small smile, gladly accepting the drink. "Did I wake you?" He took a seat across from me and threw his legs up onto the table, releasing a content sigh. "If I did, I'm really sorry."

"Naw," he replied, shaking his head gently. His feathery hair bounced with each movement. "I don't sleep much these days. Not for the past few weeks at least." His lips closed around the opening of the bottle as he tipped it up to drink. "I heard someone playing and was hoping for someone to pass the time with."

I chewed on my bottom lip as I wrote a few words onto the paper and started to play gentle minor notes. Once I found the perfect progression, I jotted it down. "I don't really sleep either," I said after a few minutes. "Not when I'm supposed to anyway."

"I have a question for you," Ross said slowly, being careful of the words he chose. "If you don't mind," he quickly added. I shrugged and kept moving my fingers over the cold strings. "I know this is out of the blue, but I've been wondering this ever since I met you..." He trailed off and I could tell that he was really hesitant about what he wanted to say. "You're kind of...unpredictable," he said. "What's your story?"

My fingers changed positions on the neck as my right hand gently plucked the strings. "There's nothing wrong with me if that's what you mean," I said quietly, rolling my eyes. Under my breath, I hummed a melody and picked up a pencil to write down a few notes. I could feel Ross's eyes burning holes through me. "Why does there always have to be something wrong with a girl if she's different? I had a normal, boring suburban life. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just a boring, normal girl."

I lifted my eyelids up to meet his gaze. His hands were resting on his lap and his fingers twirled the rings that he always wore. "Maybe that's what's wrong," he murmured, not breaking eye contact. "You think you're boring and normal. You can't see yourself the way other people see you."

I could feel my cheeks start to burn and my chest started to feel tight. My guitar balanced on my knee as I pulled my headband up over my hair to keep it from out of my eyes. In doing so, I revealed the small tattoo behind my ear, and it caught Ross's attention. He tilted his head and pointed with the neck of his bottle. "It's nothing," I said, my hands returning to the guitar.

"It's not nothing." He got up from his spot across from me and made his way over to me, bending over to get a good look. I could feel his hot breath down my neck. With his pointer finger, he lightly grazed over the marking. "It's a crescent moon." The callous on his finger felt rough against the delicate skin, but the warmth was nice in the cool night breeze. "Is there meaning behind it?"

The physical closeness was starting to get to me. The words caught in my throat as I tried to speak, but finally made their way to the tip of my tongue. "I just like the moon, I guess," I chuckled. I wanted to look at him, but I didn't want to move for fear that he would move his finger. The minute he would pull away, I knew there would be an emptiness left behind.

Ross finally moved his hand and sat on the table in front of me, a lot closer than he had been before. I yearned for him to touch me again, but wouldn't let onto it. "You know, the moon actually represents female energy," he said with a smile. "Among other things, of course. Mystery, emotion, transition... I think it fits you."

I sat my guitar against the side of my chair and leaned in closer to him, resting my elbows on my knees. Our noses were only a couple inches away from each other, and his eyes, which looked almost black in the darkness, kept wandering down to my lips. The tension was intense, and it was killing me. The heat from his skin radiated onto mine. Once his eyes traveled back up to meet my stare, I smiled and opened my mouth. "I'll see you later, Ross," I said quietly before getting up and grabbing my guitar.. He let out a small groan of frustration and a chuckle, running both of his hands through his hair and clapping them onto his knees as he shook his head. I smirked and spun, walking slowly towards my bus. I didn't dare turn back around, but I knew he was watching me as I left.