Moon Tower

9.

this chapter has been updated.

harry

"Play it again," I say, taking another sip of my wine.

Mitch opens his phone and hits play on the voice note he'd recorded. I'd woke up in a bit of a mood this morning, which may or may not have anything to do with the fact that I'd come across a news article that said Camille had moved on.

She'd moved on. She found someone else. In the back of my mind, I always knew it would happen. We broke up. She started seeing someone else. That's normal. But that didn't mean I was taking it well. Knowing something, understanding it's inevitable, and actually dealing with it are two very different things, after all.

So I walked into our writing session in a sour mood, quietly seething to myself and piping up to shut down ideas that were thrown my way. I didn't like that I was acting like this. If my mother saw my behavior earlier today, she'd have my head. But I couldn't help it. I was hurt, and part of the reason was because I couldn't pinpoint why.

I didn't want to get back together with Camille, I knew that for certain. So when I saw the article of Camille and her new boyfriend, or whatever he was to her, I couldn't understand what was creating that gross feeling inside me that made me resentful, my confusion only adding to my bad mood.

Mitch had suggested we take a ten minute break and regroup, so we did. I was leaning against the counter of the small kitchen of the studio we were at in Malibu, quietly brooding to myself until Mitch came over.

"What the hell is up with you?" He asked, a hint of concern in his face. He was using his tough love voice, which he reserved for the times I was really being an asshole. I sighed, rubbing a hand over my face and decided to just say it.

"She's seeing someone. Camille."

Mitch's face changed into something a little more sympathetic and put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing a bit. "I'm sorry, man. I'm sure that wasn't easy to wake up to."

I pulled my hand away from my face and looked at Mitch. "Yeah, no shit it wasn't easy- wait I'm sorry. Don't listen to me. I'm being a dick." I sighed again, resting my head in both of my hands now. I couldn't see Mitch's reaction to my outburst and apology, only felt as he patted me on the back and whispered a, wait here.

When I heard footsteps returning to the little kitchen, I looked up from my hands to see Mitch walk in with a bottle of wine in his hands. Setting it on the counter, he went to one of the counters and pulled out a glass.

"Here, hold this," he told me and handed the glass over while going to uncork the bottle. Neither of us said anything as he uncorked the wine and gave me a hefty pour. All I did was raise the glass and an eyebrow in his direction.

"I know you don't want to hear this, Harry, but as your friend and writing partner, I'm telling you to drink a little and use all the feelings you've kept bottled up since we started writing this album," Mitch said. I open my mouth to argue, but close it again. He was right, after all. I had been keeping the darker, moodier parts of myself to myself, focusing on writing about lighter topics so that I wouldn't have time or energy to think about the uglier feelings inside me. As if reading my thoughts, Mitch spoke up again.

"Listen, I get that you don't like to do it, but tapping into those feelings and putting words to them will make you feel better, maybe even get a kickass song out of it." I nodded a little in defeat, then remembered the glass in my hand.

"And this?" I asked, raising the wine glass a little again.

"That's to loosen you up a little," Mitch smirked a little. "Drink up, I have something to play for you."