The Redhead, and The Dreamer.

He wanted to write something sappy, touching, and I just wanted to roll with anything he was willing to give me. His house still smelled like sex, but it wasn't as unsettling this time seeing as Crystal had parked herself on the couch. She was still texting. It was starting to seem like that was the only thing she ever did lately, but neither Ethan nor I really wanted to be the one to say something about it to her. There's no telling how she would react if one of us tried to tell her she was doing it way too much.

"We want to write for the people, Skylar," Ethan told me. He'd been plucking around at his guitar, already having the strumming pattern and chords for the song chosen. We just needed to write the words. "I mean, yeah, it's cute when you can write a song for yourself, but people don't want to hear that sort of stuff most of the time. They like songs so vague that they can easily relate them to their own life when they're sitting around in their bedroom in the middle of the night feeling sorry for themselves."

"But why write something I...we don't feel?" I asked him quickly. "I don't want to feel plastic when I sing something, and all the emotion comes from the situation I base the lyrics off of most of the time."

"So," Ethan says bluntly, like my opinion doesn't matter. Crystal's phone is beeping away as she quickly taps away at the button in the background and it's really making me want to steal it from her and fling it into the nearest wall. "We can base it off of those sort of things, just make it a little less personal. It's easier to keep your composure on stage that way."

I sighed loudly. He was annoying me too at this point. "Just play," I groaned. "I thought it was my job to write the lyrics?"

Ethan rolls his eyes then sighs in defeat. "Fine. This time, but next song, we're writing it my way."

I shrug. "Whatever you say, Batman."