Brothers Bandmate

9

-Brianna's POV-

        Once I got home, I went up to my room and opened my backpack to grab homework.  When I grabbed my homework folder, I saw Luke's poem was sitting on top.  I stared at it for a minute, but deciding to do other homework first.  I pulled out math first and got started, but didn't get too far when Luke's poem came back to my mind.  Is it really as good as Mrs. Gregory says?  What was in it?  Was it better than mine?  I shook my head and went back to math.  Math.  Focus on math...but when am I gonna tell Luke that we have to turn in a single poem for the both of us?

        I sighed, giving in and taking out his poem.  I took a deep as I looked at it, and just at a glance I knew it was longer than mine.  I also noticed he used the lyrics he shared with me, and he actually wrote a lot.  I got comfortable on my bed and started reading it;

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted
I thought about our last kiss, how it felt the way you tasted
And even though your friends tell me you're doing fine

Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he's right beside you?
When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?

Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

The pictures that you sent me they're still living in my phone
I'll admit I like to see them, I'll admit I feel alone
And all my friends keep asking why I'm not around

It hurts to know you're happy, yeah, it hurts that you've moved on
It's hard to hear your name when I haven't seen you in so long

It's like we never happened, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

        I stared at the words, surprised.  I reread it just to make sure I wasn't just imagining things, but I wasn't.  What I read was really there.  But how could something so...beautiful and emotional and meaningful...come from someone like Luke?

        I jumped at the sound of my door opening and snapped my head in the direction.  Luke walked in, not bothering to knock or at least close the door.

        "Hey, Michael said you have a spare guitar pick," he said, walking over to me.

        I sat up and awkwardly and slowly put his poem behind me, while trying to casually answer him.  "Yeah, you guys need one?"

        Luke gave me a strange look.  "Yeah...just one..." he trailed off suspiciously.  "What's behind your back?" he asked, leaning to the side to look.

        I moved the same way as him.  "Nothing...and...you can't just come in my room uninvited, asking for something, and then try and get in my business!"  I tried to turn the tables on him.

        "I don't need to knock!  I come and go when I please, and your brother said I could ask you for the guitar pick!  And I only asked you what was behind your back!"  he pointed out.  It was silent for a few seconds before he spoke again.  "So, what is it and why are you getting so worked up over it?"

        "I'm not getting worked up!"  I stood up and crossed my arms, the paper in my hand but hiding behind my back.

        "Now you're getting defensive!"

        "I am not!"  I denied, though it was a bit true.

        Luke stepped closer to me, leaning down a bit to get closer to my height.  "What is it, Brie?"  he asked in a low voice, using the nickname I hated.  He heard Mikey call me it once since I wouldn't stop calling him Mikey, and Luke decided to use it against.  I luckily was able to get Mikey to stop, but that's what Luke called me now.

        I glared at him.  "None of your business," I lied since it was clearly his business.  It was his poem, he just doesn't need to know.  Yet.  We kept a locked glare before he quickly reached over for the hand with the paper.  "Luke!"  I yelled, trying to pull away and holding the paper away.  Of course Luke being a giant while I was an elf, he easily got the paper.  "Luke, give it!"  I demanded, reaching for the paper.  He kept turning and holding the paper way above my head.

        "Is this my poem?" he asked, still holding it up in the air.   "'Cause I'm pretty sure this is my business!"  I sighed, looking down to the side and giving up on getting the paper back.  I remained silent, not sure how to respond.  "What are you doing with my poem?  Did you only turn in yours because if you..."

        "No!  Of course not!  I'm not as low as you Luke!"  I snapped, feeling offended that he thought I would such a thing.  As someone who cares so much about grades, I'd never mess with someone else's.

        "Then why do you have it?" he asked, an annoyed tone to his voice.

        "Because!  I..."  I sighed, looking up at him and knowing I have no choice but to tell him.  "Mrs. Gregory said we can only turn in one poem for the both of us, so she handed me both of our poems and said we could try to combine them or start over, then turn it in tomorrow," I explained.

        Luke let out a huff and turned around, probably thinking as he took his arm down.  I stood there, waiting because I wasn't sure what else to do.  After a minute, he turned back around.  "Can we just combine them?  Put one on top of the other?"  he asked calmly.

        I slowly nodded, a bit shocked and nervous about how calm he was.  "Sure...in what order?  You haven't even read mine," I reminded him, cautiously though.

        He held his hand out and I hesitantly pulled it out, carefully giving it to him.  I nervous about what he would think since poetry wasn't my strong suit, and his was honestly better.  It went like this:

I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the make-up running down your face
And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them
Like every single wish we ever made
I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape

If today I woke up with you right beside me
Like all of this was just some twisted dream
I'd hold you closer than I ever did before
And you'd never slip away
And you'd never hear me say

        "How about we just put mine on top of yours," he suggested after reading it, handing it back to me.

        "I know mine isn't that good but that doesn't mean you can't at least consider..."

        "That's not why mine is going first!" Luke cut me off, raising his voice to get me quiet.  "I did it because it just sounds better!  It sounds more like a story, and that's the point of lyrics...or a poem, whatever!" he yelled, frustrated.

        "Can I...um, see your poem for a second?"  I asked, barely audible.  Luke handed his poem over and I placed it over mine, reading both of them like Luke had said in the correct order.

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted
I thought about our last kiss, how it felt the way you tasted
And even though your friends tell me you're doing fine

Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he's right beside you?
When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?

Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

The pictures that you sent me they're still living in my phone
I'll admit I like to see them, I'll admit I feel alone
And all my friends keep asking why I'm not around

It hurts to know you're happy, yeah, it hurts that you've moved on
It's hard to hear your name when I haven't seen you in so long

It's like we never happened, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?

I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the make-up running down your face
And the dreams you left behind you didn't need them
Like every single wish we ever made
I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape

If today I woke up with you right beside me
Like all of this was just some twisted dream
I'd hold you closer than I ever did before
And you'd never slip away
And you'd never hear me say

    
    As much as I hated to admit it, he was right.  It formed a story, and that's the goal when writing.  To create a story and a feeling, and we somehow managed to do that separately.

        "Okay...I'll type it out and turn it in tomorrow," I said, agreeing with Luke.

        "Okay.  Now, can I have that guitar pick?" he brought the original topic back up.

        I gave a small smile and nodded, opening my closet and smiling at the sight of my guitar I kept put away.  I pushed back all the memories behind it and grabbed the pick that was in a small box beside it.  I closed the door behind me and handed Luke the pick.

        "Don't lose it," I warned him, though it wouldn't make a difference to me. 

        "I'll give it back before I leave," he promised, closing his hand around it.

        I shook my head.  "Keep it, it's more use to you than me.  I just...don't want something special lost."

        Luke furrowed his eyebrows, confused about what I was talking about but still nodded.  "Okay...thanks," he said before walking out the door and actually closing it behind him for once.  Not slamming, but closing.

        I let out a breath and read the poems as a whole once again, smiling.  Who knew such different people could create such a beautiful piece?

Sorry this if this is boring, it's kind of a filler.  Next chapter should be better!  Hope you still comment and heart if you haven't already!

Luv ya!