A melody with a meaning hidden in its notes creates a story, whether it is read or sung. In the curious case of Electra Sparks and Brayden Haynes, the shift of an airplane sparks unspoken lyrics to an aria at the beginning of their tuneful journey...
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“Overthinking, the art of creating problems that weren’t even there.” - Google
♬Song♬ Just My Type by The Vamps
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Brayden’s POV
Minutes ticked by as a trickle of the sunset slanted onto Matt’s golden hair, my tired eyes sighing as I stood by the kitchen counter. The microwave dinged impatiently as its door popped open to divulge the warm milk for Matt’s Froot Loops. He has decided to have cereal after dinner and I promised him, I would make them, only if he ate all his food. At which he sassed, “Of course, I can eat it all, I am a growing boy Brayden.”
I cautiously took it out, realizing that I may have left it in for too long. Due to no reason at all, it seems as if though the tendency to overheat things has been in me since a young stage. This led to me, always receiving a lecture to remember, ‘rather too cold than too hot.’
“So, did you apologise to Ellie today?” Matt asked, spinning on the swivel chair with a curious expression.
I shot him one glance, while pouring the milk over his cereal and replied with a casual, “Yep.”
My little brother tapped his fingers on the marble counter quite demandingly, “Details, details Bray, tell me exactly what you said to her!”
Placing the bowl in front of him, “All you need to know is that I have apologized,” was my brief response. “Happy now?” I asked shifting my gaze away from his unsatisfied countenance.
His eyes rolled in mild frustration, “Of course I’m not happy.”
Matt anticipated my response as he began eating, slowly blowing onto the spoon; I tried to play along, “If I tell you, what’s in it for me?” I stroked my non-existent beard, awaiting his answer.
“If your apology was sincere, I’ll put in a good word for you by Ellie. If not,” he stared at me intensely.
I raised my hands in surrender, “Alright, I get the picture,” thereafter I relayed my exact words that I had uttered during my conversation with Electra.
His blue eyes widened with disbelief, which I only returned with a shrug. “IF?! You either did or did not act rudely?” Without allowing me to say any line of defence, he continued, “In my opinion, you did,” he pointed at me with his little index finger accusingly.
“Hey! Mom taught you pointing is rude!” I said, blatantly ignoring his previous statement.
“Yeah and so was your reaction on the plane! I don’t think mom would approve of your behaviour,” retorted my little brother.
