Words, Wars, and Symphonies

Now you've caught up with a couple of things that have happened in the past two months. Everything I want you to know, at least. Don't feel down. It hasn't been an eventful two months. Exhilarating, yes, but definitely not a lot has happened.

Actually, that's kind of lie. A lot has happened.

After Ryan and I danced for a while, we went to his place. He offered me a drink, but after all that swinging around, I didn't think I could keep a drink down. Boy, would that be embarrassing. He brought out some skittles and meat flavoured chips. Wow, this man knows how to snack!

“Thanks,” I sheepishly said. I still wasn't quite used to the idea of being around him.

“No problem. If you want anything else just ask. Or you could help yourself, I don't mind.”

I smiled. He seemed so calm. I liked that about him.

He put his arm around me. I could feel my heart beating faster, faster. I did my best to slow it down. Eating those chips won't help. I stuck with skittles. Good ol' skittles! What's this? Where did he go? I must have been lost in my world longer than I thought.

“Ryan?” I said loudly, slightly frantic.

“In here, Lainey,” I heard from a room down the hall. I followed the sound of his singing voice. I felt like I was going to melt.

I got to the door I heard the music emanating from. I knocked and heard a responding “come in.” I did as I was told.

Woah! It had to have been the most amazing room I'd ever been in! There were speakers lining the walls, so many basses and guitars, and a couple of microphones and stands!

“Hey!” he said, smiling at my amazement. “So, I see you like the room.” I nodded in astonishment. “I really like the room!” He just smiled and offered me to sit next to him. I took the seat offered. He played a few songs and I glanced around the room, all the while listening intently to his wondrous musical skills.

After he finished a song, I noticed a door that looked like a closet, but it had a window. “What's that?” I asked, pointing at said door.

“Oh! That's my recording studio. It's nothing big really. Just enough to record a few songs for the band.”

“A recording studio? Can... I see it?”

“Yeah, sure! Come on in,” he said, putting down his guitar and opening the door for me. How chivalrous.

As I walked in, a feeling swept over me. Maybe it was being in a room that Panic! At The Disco recorded music in that made me feel this way. Or maybe I was just cold.

We sat down in the corner against the padded wall, my legs resting on his. I was warming up to him really fast. We started talking again, about our likes, our dislikes, our family, our friends.