My Musician •DreamNotFound•

Chapter 1

Authors note: I know. Yucky authors note. But before we get started we must talk. Pretty sure most people know George and Dream are ok with this stuff so I won't go to much into detail. I will try to put trigger warnings when they are needed. If I didn't put one where it's needed please please tell me. I think that is all for now. Enjoy!!!

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George sat in his bed, plucking aimlessly at the strings of his guitar that was laid across his lap.

He wanted to write something cause he hadn't in a while, he just couldn't come up with any ideas. His mind was blank of creative juice.

He liked writing songs in his free time. He mostly wrote guitar solos, occasionally he would write lyrics. He didn't do it too often though. He didn't think his voice was special in anyway. His sister thought differently.

A little tap on the door caused him to look up. His sister stood in the doorway.

"Hey George. Whatcha doin?" She says walking into George's room and falling onto his bed, spreading out as if it's her own.

"Hey Kat." George says with a soft smile. "I have been trying to write but I just- I don't have any inspiration" says George, picking up his guitar and placing it on the floor next to his bed.

"Oh come on. Your the best writer I know. OH!" She says excitedly sitting up on his bed, "you should write a song, y'know, with lyrics and all that jazz, just for me!"

George shakes his head with a light laugh. "I would if I could. I just- can't think of anything right now." He says falling onto his bed, huffing.

Katie huffs "You know what to do when you need inspiration, you always go there." Katie says.

George gives a small smile. "I know. Moms favorite spot."

George and Katie's mom had passed away a few years ago. When they were little she would always take them to this park where she would write in her journal on the same bench almost every week. She never let them see her journal. They obviously could look now but it didn't feel right, not yet. They weren't ready.

They didn't really have any other family, never met there dad. He was an asshole anyways. After their mom passed they got an apartment together. They still weren't quite ready to be apart yet, besides, they really only had each other.

"Well, how about you get your butt up and go. I need a song ASAP so you need to get some inspiration and get those amazing creative juices, that I know you have, flowing" she says standing up, tugging on George's arm.

"Ok ok. I'll go. But, you know my rule. I have to go alone so I can concentrate." He says pointing an accusing finger at his sister and walking to his closet.

"I know I know." She says putting her hands up. "I'll let you get changed." She says, walking out, closing the door behind her.

George, still in his pajamas, started rummaging through his closet.

He picked out simple gray sweatpants, pairing it with a light blue t-shirt. He didn't need to look impressive.

He packed his guitar in his case and grabbed his folder with various papers and writing utensils to write down his ideas.

He slung the guitar over his head, the strap making its way across his chest and the guitar resting safely in its case on George's back.

He slipped some shoes on and headed out the door with a small wave paired with a goodbye to his sister.

He walked down to the park. It was only a couple blocks away. As he did he observed his surroundings, thirsting for inspiration.

Nothing.