*ON HOLD* clutch me tighter ↠ chloë moretz & nick robinson

five ↠ veridity

↠ (pic of our sixteen-year-old Sadie with her Cello on top ^^)

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↠ chap song // never gonna change - broods

↠ Sadie's P.O.V:

It was the year that we turned sixteen, in the fall. My appearance still remained plain, I was a little heavier, green eyed, with dirty blonde hair pulled back from my face into a ponytail. I didn't like how I looked. I covered my scar up with concealer, smeared it over every morning and pretend it didn't exist. As if it vanished over time. I didn't have to think anymore about the way it made me feel.

My circle of friends was small, but better than nothing. I still wasn't outgoing or head-over heels wild, by wild I meant like Maya Spencer type-of-wild. I had made it into the school's orchestra club and took a liking into the Cello eversince ninth grade. Classic Beethoven pieces were more of my thing. I don't really know what bond it forms between my eardrums but, my soul just naturally loses it when I hear the strings of a Cello being played gracefully.

I wasn't really ecstatic about my life. For one thing, it seemed that everyone but me had or had had a boyfriend. But I was content enough.

Nothing else interesting happened.

Until that day came by and I remembered it solemnly through my grained heart.

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One afternoon, I came home from the orchestra's first showcase dress rehearsal, feeling accomplished and winded up. Part of my hair was smartly loosened and part of it was tied up to the right side like a waterfall. The red lipstick that was applied by the backstage make-up team was still visible, my arm felt so sore from rapidly moving the Cello's bow back and forth.

I took my tinted black flats off, discarding them at the doorway.

Mother was on the phone when I went into the kitchen. She lifted her head when I came in, smiling. Her eyebrows were stiff. From the look on her face, I could tell that whoever was on the other line was upsetting her.

I watched her worriedly for a moment, before removing my lipstick and grabbing a bottled water from the fridge. Then I walked over to the kitchen table and sat down, wrenching the cap of my bottle. There was crisp fall sun streaming in through the kitchen window, dancing over the tiled floor.

I looked at my fingernails, short and bitten. Whenever I tried to grow them, they always broke. And whenever I bought those fake stick-on ones, they fell off. I took a drink of my water and watched my mother walk back and forth in front of the sink, pausing every now and again to tap her nails on the kitchen counter.

"Alright. Call anytime. I love you." She stopped, her fingers curling around the counter's edge, squeezing ever so slightly. "Okay, talk to you soon", she hung up from the phone and shook her head once. Then she turned to me, the sun coming in from the window spread over her face. Her brow furrowed now, there was no trace of the smile she'd put on for me when I had first walked into the kitchen. There was definitely something wrong.

"How was the rehearsal Sadie?", she asked me, still missing her smile. "Did you have fun? What did you do?"

"It was okay", I said shrugging. "We had a dress run-through today, been forced to wear lipstick. Mr. Dale wasn't there to conduct us today so that was no fun. Anyway what's wrong? Was that Mia on her phone?"