A boy Named Sam Peter

Uhndontknow

Lance sat at his computer waiting for the inspiration to settle in his brain. There wasn't a really good way to write about your unborn brother on paper and  have a nice introduction to the piece. French music played in the background as he tried to type out his words. It's  very hard to think when you're trying to decipher the lyrics you hear.

"It sounds pretty though," Lance thinks.

He stares out of the window in front of him as he types away ideas with no particular end game in mind.  The music fills his ears and the concentration goes away. Someone in the music said "fish". That's really the only word he picked up on, poisson.

"Think Lance, come on, think!" he sighs in frustration when nothing comes to mind. The music sounds so happy like it  wants him to persevere and write down what he's trying to make a story of. It's probably the crescendo of the piano and the elongated vowels of the words he cannot understand that gives off this encouraging tone.  His ears perk up when Sympathique by Pink Martini plays. This one he knows, he can sing every lyric to it and understand it somewhat better than any other French song he knows, well if you don't count Champs Elysees or the Miraculous Ladybug extended theme song.

Peter. Sam. Sam Peter, two names- he only has two names and Lance can't even think about anything other than that. The story surrounding the name(s?) is extremely personal and Lance doesn't think it's a good idea to write why.

"it's not like it's going  anywhere, ya know? Just shared to whoever picks it up to read on Wattpad: the community with MILLIONS of visitors." Lance talks down to his dog. The black and crème Chihuahua looks at him with a floppy smile.

"Why are you so cute, Mocha?" Lance reaches down to pat his dog and then goes back to his writing... if you could call it even that.  "You're right though, I shouldn't flatter myself at all, there's tons of writers there doing the exact same thing as me. To them it'd be just another story right? So-" Lance trailed off, his thoughts going back to Sam Peter. Actually, to him it was just Peter, but slowly the name evolved. He stares blankly at the fruit on the counter in front of him, his fingers stilling because the ideas stopped flowing. Lance looks down to his computer screen to see what he's written.

A Boy Named Sam Peter

Have you ever felt like you were meant to do something? You couldn't just stop trying because there was someone who believed in you right? I felt like that, I still do. My Name is Lance and I'm going to tell you the story of a person, a gentle soul, who has helped me go through life and-

Lance let out a huge groan, stopped reading, and deleted everything he just wrote down. His middle finger turning white with how hard he was pushing the delete button.

"I can't put this on my site! My voice here sounds like a perky college student trying to recruit for their campus by a sappy ass story and the 'Let me include you personally into my heart felt experience' by starting off with the vague-question-tactic meant to lure weak willed, lonely, gullible idiots into listening to what they have to say. I'm better than that!" Lance lets his frustration out in his voice while clawing at his hair.

"Why aren't you letting me write about you?" he asks as he looks up to the ceiling, his tone defeated. The boy picks up his pup and buries his head into the soft fur ball that is now sitting on his lap. He exhales and feels the warmth of his own breath bouncing off the dog and radiate into his skin.

"It's a really good story, I mean at least I think it is. I was able tell Jessica and she loved it. I can see through this other lens and feel things some other people can't but I still can't write about you," Lance groans into the dark fur. "I'm a mess dude," He says to Mocha who licks his cheek as a response.