Lonely People

Language Barrier

After three days in the hospital and a week of bed rest, I was finally allowed to be myself again. I could move around on my own, I could eat more than smoothies, and, best of all, I could play the drums again. As soon as we walked into the studio for the first time since my accident, I practically threw myself onto the drums.

"Oh, how I've missed you," I muttered, stroking the bass drum.

Molly chuckled, "Sometimes I wonder who you love more, me or the drums."

"It's a toss up."

Linda laughed loudly. I could feel Molly roll her eyes even if I couldn't see her. My drumsticks were ready and waiting for me on the stool. They were screaming at me to pick them up and have a bit of a drum. I grabbed them, spun them through my fingers like a baton, and sighed in content.

"How are you feeling?" Mitch asked.

I didn't even hear her come in. Spinning around, I grinned brightly, "Like my old self, Mitch."

"Wonderful," Mitch smiled, "Let's get to work, shall we? We have shelves across the world just waiting to be filled with a new Revolution single."

"Jolly good, Mitch."

Linda lifted an eyebrow, "I thought you were still on bedrest."

"She's supposed to be for another five days," Molly answered, "But our Melly's a stubborn git."

"Right you are, Molly," I winked.

Molly rolled her eyes doing her best to hold back a chuckle. I sat on my stool and spun the sticks on my fingers, all the while smiling brighter than ever. No amount of medicine or bedrest could heal me as well as playing the drums would. Drumming revitalized my soul, it gave me a new energy nothing else could. Drums healed me when the world left me for dead.

Molly sat just out of arm's reach of me. She curled her legs underneath her on the large chair, her guitar resting in her lap. There wasn't a moment where I didn't think she was beautiful, but she was exceptionally gorgeous whenever she held her guitar. She seemed so natural strumming the notes or singing a tune. Every time I saw her play, I was reminded why I fell in love with her in the first place.

"Do I have somethin' on my face?" Molly asked.

I didn't realize I was staring. Smiling, I replied, "By golly, Miss Molly, you're absolutely beautiful."

"Melly, you sap," Molly shook her head, her cheeks turning rosy.

"If you two lovebirds are done," Linda called, "We've got a song to record."

Molly began to blush even harder as I laughed, "Right oh, Lindy. I'll leave the sappiness for later."

"Sure you will."

Her sarcasm came hand in hand with a knowing look. I chuckled as Molly turned her attention to the guitar. Nearby, Heather was whispering to Vera. The baby listened intently as if she could understand every word Heather said.

Molly strummed the first few chords just as the door opened. Ellen walked in, surprisingly not followed by Prudence. It wasn't often we saw Ellen without an assistant trailing behind her. Usually, she was only alone on social occasions.

"Sorry, girls, I need to borrow Amelia," Ellen nodded towards me.

Molly lifted an eyebrow, "What'd she do now?"

"I didn't do nothin'," I replied, "I'm innocent, Elly."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Amelia."