Paint You Wings.

⊱⊱ Alex Gaskarth ⊰⊰

She was one of the first persons I'd noticed ever since I stumbled upon the café. I was having major writers' block and I thought that a walk could clear up my head - give me some inspiration. I ended up finding the café.

Plus, after years of living with a caffeine addict, I became one myself.

It was just a quaint little café with soft music playing in the background and the same two who were always working. There was a guy and the girl. Riley.

Using my finger to trace across her name that she'd written on the table, I noticed other strings of sentences. There were several bits and pieces, maybe from conversations she'd had with other people.

Truth be told, I would've never thought that she was mute. Heck, maybe she wasn't mute and I was just jumping to conclusions - but still. She seemed different.

My eyes wandered over to her as she playfully pushed her friend, the only other worker, while he grabbed her into a headlock and then proceeded to ruffle up her blonde strands. An involuntary smile curled at my lips as I observed the two. They reminded me of myself and Jack.

I miss Jack.

I miss the other guys, too.

Jack went to visit his aunts and uncles with his family, so he was out of town. Since Rian had moved out of the house and to LA, permanently, he wasn't in Towson, either. And as for Zack... Who the heck knew where Zack was? He was probably spending time with his family, like the saint he is, or out somewhere; partying it up, like the sinner he, also, is.

Despite being separated, we were all trying to write new material for the upcoming album that nobody really knew about just yet. We'd left the old record company - something the fans didn't know yet - after we realised that the one album we released under them wasn't exactly pure 'All Time Low'. It was a mix of more radio-friendly songs as well as very Blink-182 and Fall Out Boy-like.

When we left, we decided that the new album would be purely us. No trying to be like any other band, no trying to get more radio plays - just us. All Time Low. Four stupid kids who formed a stupid band and got to tour the world and meet many beautiful people facing inner demons - people just like us, basically.

We were also going to play Warped again, after about three years of skipping out on the music festival. We were going back to our roots, as was the new record.

I was having trouble with my writing, mostly due to the fact that practically every song was inspired by a certain petite brunette with big, green eyes.

Lisa Ruocco.

Breathtakingly beautiful, no doubt about that. My first love. And as much as I want to say 'my first real, serious relationship', I can't. Because it was never a stable relationship. We were literally only a couple once I'd come home from tour and then when I had to go back out, we're merely friends again.

Granted, that mostly happened because of me but she went along with it, too.

About three weeks ago, maybe a month ago, she said that she needed to talk to me. She then proceeded to tell me about how it was bothering her that I didn't have a guilty conscience whenever I hooked up with someone while on tour while she felt like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. I guess I understood the angle she was coming from and seeing her so distraught made me want to just tell her that I'd be fully committed from then on. But the words couldn't escape from my mouth because it was then that I realised that I didn't love her the way I should. Not anymore, anyway. The love I had for her now was a friendlier type - a fond sisterly love.

And so I told her just that. She nodded once, pursed her lips and then walked out of my house like nothing had happened.

I was confused as hell - I still am, actually. But I shook it off and started to try writing again. That was when I realised that I'd 'been' with Lisa for so long that almost every song I've written was based on her, even if just a little.

It also got me thinking. The one person who stayed and hung around, finally left. And if I knew Lisa well enough - I certainly did - that day when she walked out the door, she, ultimately, made the decision to walk out of my life. Maybe she'd come 'round, eventually, but not just yet. If even she couldn't take it anymore, someone I'd been with since freaking High School, then who in their right mind would stay with me? Who would even want to be with me in the first place?

I'm on tour 300 days out of the year, I don't exactly consider myself nearly as good-looking as some ridiculously handsome men that I'm surrounded with. Insecurity killed the 24 year old man.

Hah.

See what I did there?

I switched the word 'teenager' to --- never mind.

Probably feeling my stare on her, Riley glanced up - shooting me an adorable half smile as she did so. My cheeks heated up at the prospect of being caught staring at her while deep in thought but I smiled back, nonetheless.

Nibbling on my bottom lip, I grabbed the pen once again. This album was about going back to our roots, wasn't it?

I started to hum a guitar riff under my breath, tapping my pen along; creating a tune in my head. My pen moved effortlessly across the page, my lips turning up at the corners as phrases flowed out onto the paper smoothly.

Finally satisfied with what I'd written, I glanced at my watch. A couple of hours had passed by since I blocked the rest of the world out and my mug was half full, although still steaming. I must've unconsciously finished the drink while I was writing and Riley probably gave me another refill.

She walked by my table and impulsively, I reached out to grab her wrist. She startled, but turned to face me with an inquisitive look on her features. I pointed to my messy, word-filled notebook.

"Any suggestions on how to improve this?" I blurted out, because I didn't even know why I grabbed her wrist in the first place.

She raised an eyebrow in a manner that had the question: 'why the fuck are you asking me for?'.

I shrugged a shoulder, giving her a sheepish grin. "You look like you're good with words...?" I meant for that to come out as a confident statement but it came out like a little boy's nervous questioning.

Riley gave me an amused smile but she diverted her eyes to the notebook, probably only for helping me not look like an idiot. A complete idiot, anyway. She gently took the ballpoint from my hands, and cancelled out something I'd written, replacing it with three words. She did that to what was probably the same phrase before she looked at me with a pleased look, nodding. Riley gave me an adorable smile then, saluting me as she marched off in a playful manner.

I was confused at first, then I looked at what she'd written down.

So Long Soldier.

She's different alright. A good kind of different, but definitely different.