Am I making this story too long? I think I'm dragging it out for too long and I'm sorry. And also, WERE AT 556 FLIPPING READS OMFG I LOVE YOU GUYS THANK YOU. I'm also SO SO SO SO sorry I haven't updated in so long. My keyboard broke and my only other one is slow and doesn't have a working spacebar, so I have to paste each space.
Dan POV:
Her hands were very small compared to most people's. Her thumb and little finger could barely reach far enough apart to spread over a whole octave. She's playing a song that would sound good played on ukulele, like she did yesterday. Would it be considered yesterday? Whatever, the day we were in our hotel. It's a Gabrielle Aplin one. Her silky voice amplifies on the chorus
"The power of love..." She sings. Her voice is still delicate and sweet, but much louder. I smile as her eyes close over the "flame on burn desire..." line. Her head shakes back and forth as she sings certain lines. Her dark hair brushes the back of her red flannel button up shirt. The baby grand's sound fills the room. The window, which is slightly open lets in a cold breeze. I notice Laura has finished her song. How long have I been staring into oblivion? I clap quietly.
"Can you play me something now?" She asks.
"Uh. Really? Um... okay." I step up to the piano.
"And that song," Laura starts. "The one you wrote for my Mom. Could you play it for me?" She asks.
"How did you know it was a song?" I ask. "I only told her it was a poem." I explain. That was back when my music was a big secret.
"There was a repeating part. You mentioned music. It was obvious." She explains, crossing her arms.
"Well." I reply. "And my friend's cyberstalking." She adds. We exchange glances. Her's being more of a begging face and mine being a slightly freaked out one. "Please?" She asks.
"Alright." I say. I play a couple chords to remember them and get the song in my head. The happy melody flows out of the inside of the piano and my fingers dance on the keys of .
Later that night:
Laura POV:
Dan has a drink in his hand and sips it between sentences. He's telling me funny tour stories, like the time Will got his Bad Blood tattoo, and the time a guy proposed to his girlfriend in front of them, and when she said yes, the guy hugged Dan, along with the time Kyle got lost in the venue for three hours and nobody could find him. His eyes tell me he's exaggerating some of the stories.
"What did you say after he hugged you?" I ask.
"I was like, 'that's your bride-to-be! HUG HER!' And he was so confused." Dan explains. I casually laugh. My eyes fall onto a large shelf built into the wall, full of movies. I notice on the side all of the shelves are labeled. Under 'favourites', there are some of my favorite films, Back to The Future (The whole trilogy), The Life Aquatic With Steve Zissou, Psycho, and Requiem for a Dream. Under that are a large collection of David Lynch films, such as Dune and Eraserhead. The lower three shelves I can't read the titles for, but I assume one of them is a Pixar shelf. A loud crash from the floor above makes the room go silent as well as the loud music being blared from another apartment on our floor.
Whoever caused the crash must've noticed the music was turned off. "I'M OKAY!" The voice sounded like a woman's voice. The music switches back on, but a lot quieter so I can only hear it faintly. I notice a quirky clock on the wall made of a vinyl record (Blue Hawaii by Elvis Presley). 11:15.
"I should probably be getting to bed." I say.
"Alright." Dan replies. "You need anything?" He asks.
"No, I'm fine, thanks." I reply. I carry my glass of water (which happens to have sheet music printed on the side) with me to the spare bedroom. I sit on the side of the bed for a moment before I change into my pajamas. The occasional city sounds of cars whizzing by and police sirens fill the now quiet atmosphere. I pull my glasses off and set them on the dresser. I turn out the lamp (which is also on the dresser) and gaze into the darkness, lit by only a bit of light from the crack under the door. I climb under the soft covers and let my eyes flutter shut for the day.
Ethan POV:
The house is annoyingly quiet without Laura. I used to get annoyed by her spending hours in the den playing piano when I'm trying to work, but now I miss the serenade. Michael is at his Mom's, so I have the whole place to myself. I take my phone off the charger looking at the time. 7:23. I've already had dinner, which was just microwave pizza rolls. I waltz around the living room past the christmas tree that Laura and Michael had decorated the day before she left. I decide that since I'm alone, I can watch shows Michael hates on Netflix. After about a half hour of scrolling, I come to the Walking Dead, which I'm only on Season 3 of, mainly because the complete idiot I'm married to (Michael) always tells me to 'turn off that trash and interact with humans' or whatever that means.
Michael enters the room. "WHY ON EARTH ARE YOU STILL AWAKE? ITS 1:30 AM!" He screams. I quickly pause my show.
"Did you just get home?" I ask.
"WAIT. I'VE BEEN WATCHING TV FOR 6 HOURS?" I scream.
"YOU'VE BEEN WATCHING GOREY SHIT SINCE SEVEN?" He asks, trying not to laugh.
"Maybe..." I reply.
"Get some rest, you idiot." Michael picks me up, his strong arms around my thighs.
"Watch your head!" He says.
"Let me down!" I call, kicking playfully. He lets me down carefully.
"Get some sleep." He commands, pointing down the hall to our room.
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I'm again SO sorry I haven't updated recently. I'm so busy and have the worst computer in existence. I desperately need a new one.
YOU ARE READING
Lost Dad: Dan Smith
Fanfiction"Hello, Mr. Smith. We're calling about a child you had with..." Theres a pause, "Ashley Caraway." - "Laura, about your Dad... He wants to meet you."
