Deception (1) {D.S.}

{40} Can't You See

Song lyric is from: Can't You See (originally named Falling) -Why Don't We

⚠️I am go to start doing something different for the next few chapters to give you guys a backstory, I think it will make the story make more sense⚠️ (it will take place at the beginning of the chapters so you'll know what I'm doing lol)

~

I looked down at the crowded streets of New York City. I could hear cars honking and people talking from down below.

"Maddie, I want to introduce you to someone," Christinas voice said from behind me. I turned around to see her standing next to a tall blond boy around the age of eighteen. "This is my boyfriend, the guy that I've been out with every Friday."

"Corbyn, right?" I asked the boy.

He nodded, "Yes ma'am and you must be Madeleine?"

"Maddie but yes."

"Oh. Bonjour," he smiled.

"I told him you're French," Christina told me and I laughed.

"It's nice to meet you, Madeleine- or Maddie," he held his hand out for me to shake which I gladly accepted.

"It's nice to meet you too, Corbyn."

"He's in a band," Christina whispered.

•
Everyone started clapping. "Thank you, thank you," Daniel set down his guitar. I don't even remember him playing it, I've just been zoned out. "I wrote that in my room last night. Took hours to do but I think I'm going to keep it as a song to myself."

Okay, but what was it?

"Can I read the lyrics?" I asked him.

"But you just heard them."

"No I'm sorry I've been zoned out."

"Okay. It's in my room so come with me."

I followed him down a hall to his bedroom. I've never actually seen his room or any of the guys' room in the almost four years I've known them.
When we walked in I noticed his walls are a dark brown. I imagined it to be more bright, a white color maybe.
It was aesthetically pleasing if I'm being honest. He has a dark and light brown theme with some white, to me it looks like a hotel room.

"Why did you pick this ugly color?" I joked.

He looked at his walls and the look on his face was like the color meant something to him. "Um... No reason," he opened his desk drawer and handed me a piece of paper. "I could play it again if you want me to."

"Maybe another night," I told him. "Again, I'm so sorry I spaced when you sang it to us. I was remembering something."

"Remembering what?"

"The day I met Corbyn."

"Why?"

"I don't know. It just flashed through my head like it's something I'm supposed to remember forever."