𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐘 || 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘭𝘧𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐮𝐥𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬!

♕
𝔉𝔦𝔫𝔫 𝔚𝔬𝔩𝔣𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔡

✰ IT'S MY FAULT, NOT HIS! ✰

YESTERDAY IT HAPPENED. yesterday he died. the heart that stopped pounding yesterday was all that flew trough [ y / n ' s ] mind.

her dads heart.

all the deadly poison he flooded himself with. and for what? just to drown his daughter in the kind of feelings she wanted to bury in a place she would never see again.

which worked for a little while. these feelings were buried deep down in her forgotten childhood memories. the ones that made her happy. The ones that she unfortunately also forgot.

i mean look at her now. famous, in a band called calpurnia, writing songs, people supporting her, people hating on her.

nobody seemed to know about her
novel - like past . . . or even yesterday. nobody except for the rhythm guitarist and singer of calpurnia.

finn wolfhard.

the two families were pretty close after all so they all knew what's going on. that included finn. he and [ y / n ] arrived a bit earlier at the place where they rehearsed and talked about the show tomorrow. well they talked about that they might should play on another day.

-- change to your pov

" no, i don't wanna ruin everyones day." i protested.

finn sighed and replied " I don't think that's a good idea, [ y / n ]. I don't want to put you trough the pressure that's one me when i was on stage and didn't feel good." one of his hands massaged his forehead and the other hand gestured to his front.

there was a long silence " i can do it. i'm not that weak. and maybe the people had a bad day and our concert was the only thing that kept them motivated throughout it." i argued.

" [ y / n ] - he started but was interrupted by the door that revealed ayla, malcolm and jack.

" holaaaaaa!" they screamed, smiling. i fake giggled and waved at them.

" are you guys ready to shred before we have big time tomorrow? " jack questioned while unpacking his bass.

" hell yeah!" yelled malcolm, repeatedly hitting the snair-drum, creating a beat. ayla nodded playing a little melody on her keytar that matched malcom' s random rhythm.

finn grabbed his guitar and handed me mine. we rehearsed a few hours for tomorrow.

an open air show in paris. and the worst thing about that is that my fathers funeral is tomorrow in my hometown
vancouver.

after the last cords were played we all let out an exhausted sigh, while packing away our instruments i felt a pair of eyes on me a few times.

i looked over at him and he just smiled awkwardly and looked down at his
guitar case again.

we all left and ordered a taxi to get us to our tour bus that is behind the stage of the open air concert.

it's already dark outside so the street laterns are on an shrouded the streets in orange light.

suddenly i felt a drop on my nose that was soon to be " it's raining!" malcolm warbled, running around while
sticking his tongue out to catch raindrops
like a child.