DRIVE LIKE I DO - m.h

8 - i cant think of a clickbaity title

Matty

I found an empty corner down the far end of the courtyard and claimed the spot as my own, resting my bony arse on the crumbly gravel. I knew that George and Adam or Ross and John would probably take a wild guess and take a stroll down here too as it was where the weirder kids spent their breaks reminiscing and doing whatever the fuck they do, and as much as it hurt my ego to admit, we definitely fit the bill.

I retrieved my trusty leather notebook and a snapped in half only pen from my backpack, wracking my brain desperately for some lyrics or something to write down but to no avail. I gazed at the fluffy, cotton-like clouds as I feel into a hazy daydream.

I could see Carmen as she leaned against the peeling railings of the huge house she was always stood outside, an unlit cigarette held between her long, thing fingers that were always painted with some obnoxiously bright shade of nail polish. She always looked so cool.

I began to scribble onto my notebook, not thinking an awful lot, just allowing my thoughts to fill the pages to the point where they were almost gushing over the edges. I saw a shadow sit down beside me out of the corner of my eye but decided to remain in the blurry world of my brain until disrupted.

"Hey, this isn't half bad!" A voice exclaimed. I turned towards Adam, grinning at him dumbly, slamming my book shut on instinct.

"What 'isn't half bad'?"

"This" Adam grabbed my notebook from my lap quicker than I could process and, in my state of dreaming I was too slow to stop him. He flicked through the pages, stopping every now and then and letting out a snort of amusement.

"What are you doing?" I crossed my arms, feeling utterly powerless.

"This" he repeated as he stabbed his finger into a page covered in inky pen, continuing to ignore my question.

On the page there were scribbles and random notes splattered everywhere; ugly quick scetches, adjectives and names and meaningless junk.

"This is lyric material," he stated bluntly.

"Yeah, okay, you come up with the lyrics then because I'm having some trouble."

"Well you have it written down right here you see," he pointed to a smudged pile of ink, "Standing on the corner, like an angel in disguise." He squinted his eyes at the jumble of words sprawled across the yellow paper.

"That could so be a lyric." he re-iterated.

I nodded to myself, it actually wasn't awful and could definitely be a starting point.

Adam pulled out his guitar from his shoulder case and plucked out a few chords, until it sounded exactly how he wanted.

"That's it!" I yelled out, "that's our riff."

He replayed it and raised his eyebrow at me. "The oriental soundin' thing?"

"Yeah, play me out a tune."

He played the riff again and I began to sing lyrics that rushed to my brain. It was almost overwhelming. Adam and I took turns jotting down notes and lyrics into my notebook and before we knew it we had missed last period.

I waved a 'goodbye' to Adam, shutting my book and tucking it into my backpack safely for the walk home.

As I shuffled along the tarmac streets, rain bucketing down onto my head, I found content with my life for once, despite the fact that my hair was lying flat, plastered onto my forehead. I actually felt like shit was holding itself together somewhat decently and the thought gave me a sense of control, even if I didn't have any.

HI THIS IS A VERY SHORT CHAPTER IM SORRY BUT I WILL UPDATE TOMORROW TOO. PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR OPINIONS ON THIS SO FAR AND CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM OR WHATEVER THANKS.

Also can we just talk about the new rose gold necklace for a second thanks I'm sh00k