Status: Work in Progress!
I Believe In The Finer Things & You Don't Believe In Me
When We Were Younger
On Monday at school he met me at my locker, greeting me with a wide smile, sending my nerves wild. "Hey! Want to walk to English with me?" he asked eagerly, and I nodded, happy he'd asked. I grabbed a few of my books before joining his side and we walked down the hall. "Did you have a good weekend?" he asked, and I gave a nod, looking to him and mouthing, "You?". He nodded, "Yeah, pretty good. I spent most of it sleeping, but that's always a plus." he replied, and I smiled, knowing exactly how he felt. "Excited for our new assignment?" he asked sarcastically, referring to the project Mrs. Edgerly would be assigning and I laughed, shaking my head. We took our seats side by side, and I opened up my notebook writing him a little message.
I listened to your demos, and I think they're absolutely amazing! There weren't any titles to go along with them, but Track 4? Take Off Your Colours? I dunno if that's the actual name, but I took a guess, and I think that one's my favorite. I had you guys on repeat all weekend.
I slid it across the desk, watching as his face lit up, "'Take Off Your Colours'..." he said fondly, "I actually really like that. Originally we were going to call it 'Your Call' but I like that much better. I'll pitch it to them. We actually have a show coming up on the twenty eighth if you'd be interested. It's down at Mayhem, the club in town?" he offered, and I smiled at his invitation.
Yeah, I'd love to go! I'll just have to talk to my mum about it.
I felt like a six year old. 'Ask my mum about it'? That sounded absolutely ridiculous coming from a fourteen year old- or is my perception on high school life completely off?
"Sweet, I hope you can make it-" Josh was saying when Mrs. Edgerly's snappy voice came from across the room. "No talking, class." she barked, and then slowly made her way to her desk, "I'm glad to see you followed my instructions. Now today, I'm going to assign you a project. One out of the two of you- it doesn't matter who- has to write a poem. It can be any kind of poem that we learned about over the past few months, and your partner has to write one in response using the same format. Together they basically have to read as if it were one big poem. We'll have you present them next Wednesday, and whichever pair gets the highest grade will get to skip class two weeks from now on Monday, therefore skipping our final exam on poetry. You'll have time to work on this project in class, but it should be completed at home. I'm giving you today to get started, and ask any questions that you may have. In the end, I expect two brainstorming charts, two rough drafts, and two final copies." she ranted, giving us all of the details.
My face went white when she said we'd have to present, and Josh noticed, reaching across the table to grab my hand and give it a tight squeeze, reassuring me, and when I looked over at me he was wearing a smile that I felt compelled to return. He let go of my hand then, but I wished he hadn't, his warmth was comforting me.
Josh and I set to work straight away, discussing how we would do this. In the end. We agreed on doing lyrical poetry, seeing as it was his forte, and if I needed any help he'd be there for me. We agreed on Josh writing the first one, and I'd write one in response.
*
*
Later that day, Josh and I decided to hang out again at his place. As he worked on his poem, I played Left 4 Dead on his xBox, entertaining myself. After about half an hour of mindlessly playing the game, a special infected zombie jumped out at me, startling me, and I let out a strange yelp, causing Josh to chuckle. "I think I'm done. Could you maybe check it over for me?" he asked, and I nodded, doubting that having me check it would do any good. "It's called 'When We Were Younger'." he announced, handing it over after I had paused the game.
When I was younger, I always thought I could be someone if I tried enough.
When I was younger, my father said wear a smile, show respect.
When I was younger, you never said, when I was older, I'd feel helpless.
When I was younger, you shone the light, and now that I'm older, it doesn't shine bright.
When I was younger, you always said that as I got older, you'd always be there.
When I was younger, I used to care about everything that my father said.
When I was younger, you even told me to show evil, the utmost respect.
Reading it almost brought a tear to my eye, and when I looked back up at him I gave a sincere thumbs up, telling him that I liked it. The connection that I felt towards his writing almost scared me. I wiped at the corner of my eye, feeling the dampness of a tear, and I brushed it away. Josh smiled, "You liked it?" he asked, I nodded. "Do you want me to change anything? To make it easier to kind of, continue it?" he asked, and I shook my head.
My writing was definitely not as good as his, and it was going to stick out like a sore thumb. "Alright." he said, studying me, and I turned to him, looking in his eyes, waiting for either one of us to say anything.
"Could you try to say something for me?" he asked, and my nerves stated acting up as soon as the words were out of his mouth. I shook my head, unwilling, "Please? I've never heard you talk, and we've been going to the same school for eight years now." he pointed out, and I sighed, defeated, my cheeks tinting pink. I was beyond embarrassed of my stutter, and I didn't want him to hear it.
"I promise I won't laugh." he said, as if reading my mind as I contemplated all of the possible outcomes of this. I looked down at my hands that were now in my lap. He placed a soft hand under my chin, tilting my head back in his direction gently, "I promise." he repeated, and I took a deep breath, thinking of what to say. I focused on the words, and how they would sound coming out of my mouth. Josh removed his hand from my chin, staring at me intently as he waited.
My mouth opened for me to speak, only for me to close it again. This repeated a few times before I finally got a grasp on the words, and they came flowing out. "I-I'm g-glad we... M-met." I said, it coming out as just a faint mumble, but it was good enough for me. A smile crossed my face, and I looked up to Josh to see him smiling as well. "Me too." he said faintly, staring into my eyes. I blushed softly, looking away, "You have a beautiful voice. I wish you'd talk more often." he said, and I glanced over at him, unsure of whether or not he had actually said that.
"W-w... w-what?" I breathed out, surprised, and his smile grew. "You really should talk more." he complimented, and once again he had me breathless and weak at the knees. He had actually just said that!
That was the night Josh had practically changed my life for the better. Josh Franceschi saved me in every way possible.
I listened to your demos, and I think they're absolutely amazing! There weren't any titles to go along with them, but Track 4? Take Off Your Colours? I dunno if that's the actual name, but I took a guess, and I think that one's my favorite. I had you guys on repeat all weekend.
I slid it across the desk, watching as his face lit up, "'Take Off Your Colours'..." he said fondly, "I actually really like that. Originally we were going to call it 'Your Call' but I like that much better. I'll pitch it to them. We actually have a show coming up on the twenty eighth if you'd be interested. It's down at Mayhem, the club in town?" he offered, and I smiled at his invitation.
Yeah, I'd love to go! I'll just have to talk to my mum about it.
I felt like a six year old. 'Ask my mum about it'? That sounded absolutely ridiculous coming from a fourteen year old- or is my perception on high school life completely off?
"Sweet, I hope you can make it-" Josh was saying when Mrs. Edgerly's snappy voice came from across the room. "No talking, class." she barked, and then slowly made her way to her desk, "I'm glad to see you followed my instructions. Now today, I'm going to assign you a project. One out of the two of you- it doesn't matter who- has to write a poem. It can be any kind of poem that we learned about over the past few months, and your partner has to write one in response using the same format. Together they basically have to read as if it were one big poem. We'll have you present them next Wednesday, and whichever pair gets the highest grade will get to skip class two weeks from now on Monday, therefore skipping our final exam on poetry. You'll have time to work on this project in class, but it should be completed at home. I'm giving you today to get started, and ask any questions that you may have. In the end, I expect two brainstorming charts, two rough drafts, and two final copies." she ranted, giving us all of the details.
My face went white when she said we'd have to present, and Josh noticed, reaching across the table to grab my hand and give it a tight squeeze, reassuring me, and when I looked over at me he was wearing a smile that I felt compelled to return. He let go of my hand then, but I wished he hadn't, his warmth was comforting me.
Josh and I set to work straight away, discussing how we would do this. In the end. We agreed on doing lyrical poetry, seeing as it was his forte, and if I needed any help he'd be there for me. We agreed on Josh writing the first one, and I'd write one in response.
*
*
Later that day, Josh and I decided to hang out again at his place. As he worked on his poem, I played Left 4 Dead on his xBox, entertaining myself. After about half an hour of mindlessly playing the game, a special infected zombie jumped out at me, startling me, and I let out a strange yelp, causing Josh to chuckle. "I think I'm done. Could you maybe check it over for me?" he asked, and I nodded, doubting that having me check it would do any good. "It's called 'When We Were Younger'." he announced, handing it over after I had paused the game.
When I was younger, I always thought I could be someone if I tried enough.
When I was younger, my father said wear a smile, show respect.
When I was younger, you never said, when I was older, I'd feel helpless.
When I was younger, you shone the light, and now that I'm older, it doesn't shine bright.
When I was younger, you always said that as I got older, you'd always be there.
When I was younger, I used to care about everything that my father said.
When I was younger, you even told me to show evil, the utmost respect.
Reading it almost brought a tear to my eye, and when I looked back up at him I gave a sincere thumbs up, telling him that I liked it. The connection that I felt towards his writing almost scared me. I wiped at the corner of my eye, feeling the dampness of a tear, and I brushed it away. Josh smiled, "You liked it?" he asked, I nodded. "Do you want me to change anything? To make it easier to kind of, continue it?" he asked, and I shook my head.
My writing was definitely not as good as his, and it was going to stick out like a sore thumb. "Alright." he said, studying me, and I turned to him, looking in his eyes, waiting for either one of us to say anything.
"Could you try to say something for me?" he asked, and my nerves stated acting up as soon as the words were out of his mouth. I shook my head, unwilling, "Please? I've never heard you talk, and we've been going to the same school for eight years now." he pointed out, and I sighed, defeated, my cheeks tinting pink. I was beyond embarrassed of my stutter, and I didn't want him to hear it.
"I promise I won't laugh." he said, as if reading my mind as I contemplated all of the possible outcomes of this. I looked down at my hands that were now in my lap. He placed a soft hand under my chin, tilting my head back in his direction gently, "I promise." he repeated, and I took a deep breath, thinking of what to say. I focused on the words, and how they would sound coming out of my mouth. Josh removed his hand from my chin, staring at me intently as he waited.
My mouth opened for me to speak, only for me to close it again. This repeated a few times before I finally got a grasp on the words, and they came flowing out. "I-I'm g-glad we... M-met." I said, it coming out as just a faint mumble, but it was good enough for me. A smile crossed my face, and I looked up to Josh to see him smiling as well. "Me too." he said faintly, staring into my eyes. I blushed softly, looking away, "You have a beautiful voice. I wish you'd talk more often." he said, and I glanced over at him, unsure of whether or not he had actually said that.
"W-w... w-what?" I breathed out, surprised, and his smile grew. "You really should talk more." he complimented, and once again he had me breathless and weak at the knees. He had actually just said that!
That was the night Josh had practically changed my life for the better. Josh Franceschi saved me in every way possible.
♠ ♠ ♠
So, the feedback I'm getting is really encouraging! It's really surprising how many comments I've gotten on this so far as opposed to my other stories, and it means a lot! I'm just trying to build up to the main part of this story, and get their friendship/relationship sparked, so bear with me if it's not all that interesting. Thank you so much to My Misery Business, & again to d-o-c-t-o-r-w-h-o. You guys have no idea how much your comments mean to me! I'm also really impressed with the amount of readers/subscribers/commenters I've gotten over the past two days. Usually I'll get one or two subscribers with either one or no comments at all over the course of a week and it'll never grow, but so far I've gotten four subscribers and three comments, and it's literally the best feeling in the world. It's made me really happy! Thanks for reading/subscribing/commenting/etc.! As usual, any feedback is really appreciated!