17 Things I Found In Your Bedroom

Chapter 1 Part 1

(On the side is what I imagine Ace's singing to be like, but without the drums in the background. I See Fire, Brad Kavanagh cover) 

Chapter One Part One

They used to be a vibrant, bright, alive green. If I could write music anything the way he could, every single piece would be about his irises, and the forests that haunt them.

His face is detached and almost broken, like a bulldozer has stormed through it, ruining its adored features and turning them to ash. Sandy blonde hair falls in his face from the pressure of the wind, but he makes no move to push it back into place- staring straight ahead to fields and streams.

With his hands resting carelessly on his black jeans, and his legs pulled as close to his body as the seat of the bench will allow, he seems lifeless, as though someone has taken his soul away from him, and he has nothing left.

I brought him to our Bench to try and connect him to the world again. The last few days have been torturous- I guess the mostly it's because he's hardly uttered a word to me apart from the occasional 'goodbye'. It hurts me more than anything else possibly could, to watch him suffer like he is now. I made a plan, last week, that I would book him in to see a therapist. Even me, his girlfriend, can't talk to him anymore. I'm hoping someone professional can- someone who's had experience with this type of thing.

The Lord knows I'm not as good with words as he is. If the situation was reversed, Ace wouldn't even need to say three words to get me to open up. Either he should work in the social industry when he leaves school, or I'm just a pushover, and he's stubborn.

Ace and Claire. We're meant to be awesome together. Not popular, not emos, not green-eye worthy. Just together. But lately it's like it's one sided, and I can't understand why. The boy sitting next to me hasn't told me one single detail of his life in at least a month. It irks me to think he might be drifting, because I know I'm not. I'm still as totally in love with him as I was when we first met. My question being, is Ace?

"Tell me one thing on your mind?" I breathe finally, looking up to him from my place on the corner of the bench. Whilst Ace was leaning against the arm rest with his legs up near his chest, I'm positioned on the opposite side, with my legs out along the seat and my head resting on my arm. The question may have appeared rhetorical, but I would give the world to find out what's going on in his head right now. "We've never been the awkward type." I add, lightly nudging his shoulder with my toe, since I can't reach my arm over from where I'm sitting. He doesn't react.

After a minute, he rakes his hand through his hair and turns his head back to look me in the eye, his foot tapping against the moss ridden bench. Something changed in the last few minutes- now his expression is less upset and thoughtful. It's determined. And that scares me.

"Can I play you a song?" he drops his feet to the dying grass and picks up his ever-existent guitar from the ground next to us and starts tuning it expertly. Today it's electric, but tomorrow it will probably be acoustic again. Since there is no amp out here, it's quieter and less powerful. Sadly, it reminds me of him these past few days. The Sunday before this one, he was loud and outgoing. Now he's... not. "I just got some newfound inspiration." He adds. I swear my smile must be huge; this is the most he's told me in ages.

He starts strumming the strings in a lower key than the original song, then picks up speed. I lean back on the bench as he starts singing in a low, melodic voice. Just him and his guitar, that's all it's ever been, and probably all it ever will be.

If this is to end in fire
Then we should all burn together
Watch the flames climb high into the night

He sings. I edge slightly closer to him, feeling his body heat on my skin. He used to be so bright and happy, but lately he's different. Only his music has always stayed the same- ever since I first found him busking on the side of the road.