𝗰𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝗜 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝟮 ⁑ t.holland

15. on my mind all the time

 "I'd... never hurt you, Brooklyn."
I let out a frustrated laugh. "That's exactly what he told me."

I looked down at the guitar, bobbing my head up and down as I gently strummed a few chords. The sound of each string echoing throughout the empty studio. I had the back light on, but other than that, the room was decently dark.
Being alone in a studio helped keeping me sane. So much happens so quickly with this kind of life, it's nice to have some time to yourself. Especially considering people now have keys to my apartment. So, this empty studio was my last hope. 

I continued strumming the chords written on the paper laid out on the table in front of me. I hummed the melody of the same song and repeated a chord or two any time I thought I could've played it better. 

My fingers press gently against the chords as my other arm reaches down for the page, I flip the paper and try to find which chord I had to start with before hearing the door click.
I look up, confused and pretty bummed out now that this person had found my hiding spot. But, a joyful feeling consumes me when recognizing the chocolate curls and dreamy brown eyes.

Tom stops himself in the doorway, standing there quite awkwardly as if he wasn't sure if he should actually walk in or leave altogether. In hopes he'd catch the hint that I wanted him to stick around, I put my guitar down on the ground next to me and stand up, smiling a little. He matches my expression and walks in further, closing the door behind him as softly as possible.

"I love you" 

"You spend a lot of time in here?" Tom asked, slowly making his way around the room. He looked at the instruments, his fingers lightly brushing against the drum set against the wall along with the many, many guitars hung up.

I nod my head, holding my hands together. "Yeah, it's the only place where people leave me alone"

His head shoots up, a look of terror on his face. "Oh-- I can, I can go... if you want. I'm sorry, I didn't--"

"No!" I spit out, regretting my choice of words. "It's fine! You don't-- I want you... to... stay..." I mumble. 

Tom made me feel a way no one ever has before. I don't get gitty or nervous with anyone ever and every time I see his face or hear his voice, my heart begins to pound in my ears and my stomach does a quadrillion flips. I don't know what any of it means but I do know that I'm sick and tired of playing this stupid game where I'm supposed to hate him for leaving so long ago.

I don't know why it took me this long to just get over it. Maybe seeing him again, knowing I wasn't the only person to feel this horrible for this much time. Whatever my reasoning was, it was fucking dumb. 
I still feel the same way towards Tom. That was inevitable. 

Moments pass and we're now standing only a few feet away from one another, he's still looking around the room at the photographs of past artists but he made the effort to get closer. "How's uh... How's Chelsea?"

I scoff, not because I was annoyed that he'd ask me something about my family, but because I knew that last time we spoke, Chelsea and I were inseparable. Six years ago Tom would be forced to bring both of us on dates, to bring her something back from the store we visited. Chelsea pushed both of us in each other's direction and I don't think it'd be right for me to take all the credit for whatever kind of relationship Tom and I have now. 

I often tell people not to bother asking me questions about my family just because I was ashamed of myself. Ashamed that even with the situation they were in, I still walked away and never looked back. 
For some reason though, I didn't feel the usual anger or irritation when Tom asked me about her. It actually felt nice because we've known each other for so long.