I call it a myth. (ON HOLD)

Chapter 9.

9.

I'm updating this from my iPad so I can't get any songs on but...I've put on what I would have put on so...

--One and Only, Adele--

"You don't have to stay. I'm sorry, it just." He lifted his head from his knees and looked through me.

"It's fine I swear, anyway. We have to write a stupidly easy classical quintet piece anyway." I tried to change the topic, he followed.

"What? Normally it's harder. Like jungle quintet. I hate jungle."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Let's just do it. Then we have no homework?" He pointed to a pile of books at the corner of his desk. "Man you're strange."

"Thanks." He responded.

"There's one person in the world who has a strange black mark coming out of their finger. I think that's strange. Mine's just awesome." Damon went over to turn on the TV. "Yeah, let's watch ourselves!"

"Now we make our way to East London where the love line spoken of in so many myths has been found." I listened to the reporter dude and l watched the interview.

"We looked alright." I said.

"I looked stupid. God, I hate cameras for a reason." I listened as they carried on the report. He switched it off as it soon as it started to talk about the iTunes festival thing. Adele came on and I started to hum the tune, scowling as the screen went blank.

We hustled up the stupid music assignment. I could tell his mind was slowly getting off the thing. Oh god. Why did I have to think about it. I blanked my face.

"Done." I printed off the sheets and placed them neatly in my bag. "What d'ya want to do?"

"Where is everyone?"

"Nando's. Lucky bastards."

"Why didn't you go?"

"As much as I like Nando's I would prefer to be here. With you." I muttered the last sentence.

"Nawwwww. No, really. Same here. I told you that you couldn't crack me and you seem to be getting somewhere. F**k fate." His eyes immediately widened and he shook his head, the blank face I was used to making its way back where it belonged.

"Would you prefer it to be someone else?"

"Well, Brooklyn is quite hot." I punched him. "No one else would understand me."

"I don't know what to understand." I crossed my legs over and played with the hem of my shirt. "Can I order a pizza?" I took out my phone and started to dial the number. Someone on the other end started talking as Damon mouthed 'anything' to me. I nodded and carried on, watching him get out his sketch book.

Pressing the red button I went up to his corner and he handed me the book. I didn't even ask, expecting him to keep it private. I looked through it and my eyes widened. These were so different to the one he gave me earlier. These were perfected drawings, not sketches. And these were Tate worthy. "Woah." He smirked. I laughed and turned the pages. They were mainly portraits, mainly pencil but a few were coloured. A few were landscapes. All amazing. "Where did you learn to draw like this?" I carried on looking through. I ran my finger over a watercolour.

"I started when I was 12 and used a new book each year. You know, when I was 13 I got a new book. You can see how they get better." He got a box from under the bed. "The only place Dylan wouldn't look. He likes looking through my stuff." After opening the box he laid the 6 sketch books on the bed in order of age. I opened the reached out to the first one.

"I know the feeling..." I muttered as I opened it.

Now, don't get me wrong, for a 12 year old he was a child prodigy. But compared to the awesomeness of the newer ones he was still finding style. I glanced over the first picture and immediately got confused. She seemed so familiar. "Why did you draw her? Who is it?" He sighed.

"I didn't know actually. It just came to the page. I didn't know what I was doing. To be honest, yet sappy, I couldn't stop thinking about this imaginary girl. Well, I thought she was imaginary."

Still confused I left it on that page and opened the next book, first page. Same picture but the girl seemed older, more familiar. The picture had more of an edge, more style but I had stopped paying attention to that. "I told you that I couldn't stop thinking about her. At the front of each book, she gets older. But she's still the same girl."

I quickly opened the next few books before seeing why she was so familiar. I got out my phone and opened the pictures. "12 years old, that ones from when I was in Cyprus." I pointed to the first of Damon's pictures. "In my eyes, you've even drawn the view. That's Cyprus."

He stared at me before scribbling it on a blank page at the back of the new one. I flicked back through my photos. "13, still me. This time LA. Dodger's stadium in the reflection." Flicking through again he continued to write. "14. Oakley, in the US. Stayed there for a week or something. 15. Switzerland. Skiing trip. 16. Egypt, that's the Nile. And 17. Before I came here I went to St. Petersburg in Russia with school so that would be Russia." He looked up from the page. "In all those places I saw things in the water, in the shadows. I saw faces but I thought it was nothing, illusions. While you were seeing me and putting me on paper, I was seeing you."

Dylan casually came into the room and looking around before taking the untouched pizza down to everyone else. "Hey guys." He walked off.

"The places...no. It's a coincidence." Damon started. I shook my head and he looked back at me. "They...it's a coincidence so don't say anything. It's says 'closer'. We have a week and a half before the line is up. We are closer, both together and to reaching the deadline and to the target. If it means anything, it means that we're not there yet."

I looked up from the sketch books.

You're not.