There were so many cords.
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So many cords that he had to remember because it had to be perfect.
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There weren't that many, really. Not in the song he had picked.
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If he was being honest, he would have said that it was the thought of him singing to her that filled his stomach with butterflies, rather than the cords he'd have to play.
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He'd have to suck it up.
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Play through the pain.
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That's exactly what he'd have to do.
Play through the pain.
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YOU ARE READING
First Love
Teen FictionShe ripped him apart, bit by bit until there was nothing left. Until she had him all. He fixed her. Over and over. He replaced all the pieces she didn't have with his own. He was her first kiss. She was his first love. And it was like a movie. Like...
