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Note to self: Don't write dumb one-shots while listening to Bo Burnham because your braincells don't actually function.

Anything in [square brackets] is a note from sleep-deprived me because I don't have the mental power to actually write a good story


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People suck.

As much as Delilah Larson denied it at times, she hated humans. They were always so touchy, talked too much and demanded a lot of attention. Object didn't do that, so perhaps that's why she spent so much time on her guitar, plucking away at the steel strings until her fingers literally fell apart. She found more comfort in music than someone else, and that was either the saddest or the most brilliant revelation to come to her.

So when Holland Maddox and Wren Larson asked her to join a band, she said yes. Although she was certain she was going to regret it. Neither of the two were exactly what you would call organised or committed. Of course, there was no doubt they had a passion for music (that music being Lovejoy and all the alt songs inbetween), but the idea of devoting a solid part of their time to actually organising meetups was too much. Whilst they may call themselves a band, they neither had a name nor a plan and perhaps that was the beauty of this agreement. Not only was the band really just a group of teenagers wanting to vent their emotions onto angsty songs, but the combination of instruments was certainly unique. Holland's drums coupled with Delilah's guitar made sense, but Wren's harp certainly didn't. But they made it work anyway.

Whilst no true band meeting had been organised, they decided to make the most of their time sitting at home with little to do. Despite Holland's claim she lacked the cognitive ability to really do anything, she took to laboriously drawing up a venn diagram that would help them figure out what music they would be playing. After all, they couldn't just start writing their own songs this early. They needed to find that band dynamic, they claimed, before scrolling through their spotify playlists and poking fun at each other's tastes. The three of them chatted non-stop for a solid 15 minutes before all three fell silent and the venn diagram never saw the light of day again. Commitment issues, what did I say.

It was clear the whole band thing was going to take time and patience none of them had. Despite Wren's attempts to provide potential band names, Goats on the Sidewalk didn't exactly sit well with Holland and she stubbornly refused to be affiliated with a goat of any kind. So the naming was put on hold, along with the music, the meetings and pretty much anything that would fairly constitute a band. But all that mattered to them was that the energy and the prospect was there, and they were content.

At least Wren and Holland were. Delilah really didn't care.

All she wanted was the ability to peacefully strum away at her guitar and cringe at her teacher struggling to understand what mythical creature Wilbur Soot happened to be. All she needed was an oversized sweater, her short hair positioned on the right side of her head out of her face and enough peace and quiet. But that was almost never going to be a reality. Delilah wore three different sweaters a week and her friends noticed, her hair was always in her face and never on the right side and Wren never provided peace. Siblings. [I don't have siblings I would never know but the sentiment is funny to my sleepy brain cells]

Perhaps that's why Delilah hated people so much. The person who spent the most time pestering her also lived in the same household, which was a terrifyingly horrendous thought to consider. Wren never lost the opportunity to leave the door open on the way out and simply get in Delilah's way. And Delilah hated when Wren would prod her. Once it almost made her throw her guitar in a rage but then she remembered that was her primary comfort.

Maybe being in a band was fun. Being in one with your sister definitely wasn't going to be but Delilah figured she would focus on the music rather than the irritating presence near her. Because at this rate Delilah really understood why London put barriers on the tube line.


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Author: This feels a like a fever dream. This definitely is a fever dream. There is no plot. I don't even think it classifies as a one shot but I am being bullied into writing this (/j on the bullying but yes the people I call my friends will not let me rest unless I write this). I was going to try to get this to 669 words but apparently I can't read numbers so that didn't happen. I sincerely hope you didn't enjoy because this gave me hell and now I have a headache.

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⏰ Last updated: Aug 10, 2021 ⏰

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