The Colors In Her Voice

☆Chapter 25☆

Like Beth had promised, she gave me my much needed personal space. The whole week I spent my lunch break in the school library, alone with my lunchbox and a book. 

I avoided Dylan like plague and didn't see him much. Although it felt like he was ignoring me more than I was. Mason was always asking me whether I was doing okay or not. He has been showing extra concern toward me which was not needed but I embraced it nonetheless. If someone really cares about me then I wouldn't complain.

My mom on the other hand was persistent to know the reason as to why I was spending my remaining time at home. I guess she was used to not seeing me much at home because of my work and practice. I didn't tell her anything because I couldn't find myself to. She didn't need to add my problems in her already piling problems' bucket.

So when the weekend finally rolled in, I was already missing the days I'd spent with myself doing almost nothing. 

I took out my lyrics diary and stared at the blank page. I wanted to pen down my thoughts into a song format. As I was thinking hard, I heard a knock on my door and just like I expected, my mom opened it without even waiting for an answer. Not that I minded anyway.

"Hey, Blue." She held the door open and leaned against it. I looked up at her with the same thoughtful expression. I wasn't really paying attention because whenever I am brainstorming, my attention span for other things lower down. "You there?" She asked me, clicking her fingers.

I blinked a few times to get out of my trance and hummed in response. "Oh, yeah. Yeah. What's it?"

"There's a guy waiting for you downstairs. Says he wants to meet you?" It was more of a question than a statement. She crossed her arms and waited for my response.

Furrowing my brows, I gave her a questioning look. "Who? Mason?" I tried guessing.

"Nope. I know Mason. Um, he is-"

"You didn't ask for his name?" I cut her off before she could even finish her sentence. I gave her an incredulous look while she just sheepishly shrugged.

"Sorry? I remember you telling me his name but I forgot it. Anyway, don't you worry. I know him. He is that guitar guy." She grinned and I gave her a weird look. "The one who was playing guitar for you during your singing competition? When you were ranked as the second runner up?" She elaborated as if talking to a toddler.

I jolted up from my bed within seconds as soon as her words registered in my brain. 'Does she mean Dylan?!' I wanted to scream aloud but I clenched my fists and folded my arms across my chest to hide them. "Dylan?" I asked her with wide eyes. "Why did you even let him in?" I almost shouted at her but toned it down at the last minute.

"Why? Is he the reason why you've been staying at home this whole time?" She guessed, narrowing her eyes.

"What? Pfft, no." I released a fake laugh.

"Then? What's with the attitude?"

"It's nothing. I'll go see him," I said and pushed past her to get downstairs. "What the lizard does he want now?" I muttered to myself angrily. 'Was his humiliation for me not enough that day?'

Angrily stomping my feet, I looked around when my mom pointed to the living room from upstairs. 

She could tell that something was wrong with the way she was looking at me but I ignored her. I don't know how I would explain this to her, the main reason I've been avoiding this topic for years. But I couldn't control my emotions when it came to Dylan. He brings out the worst in me and vice versa.

As soon as I walked inside the living room, I saw his eyes scanning through all the photographs hung on the wall. He was sitting on the couch with a relaxed posture. Not liking his nonchalance, I stood in front of him with a nasty scowl. "Up!" I snapped at him.