(3 months later)
no contact with anyone, except the manager.
just studio, studio, studio.
all day, all night.
sleep deprived, touch deprived.
i was doing awful.
i was burnt out.
i shouldn't have sent that message.
i found a passion for making slower songs, since no one liked the electric guitar.
i would play the piano.
record it
record again.
fuck, wrong note.
and again, and again, until it seemed perfect.
the whole process was awful. i hated it.
until i finished off my last song.
the album cover looked like this:
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
it was boring, i didn't care though.
it had a meaning to me though.
i had 13 songs, they were all called :
a little of you - (marcus after the date)
be safe - (travelling back from Oslo)
ur hoodie strings - (at marcus' house)
stop me - (the thought of trying to stop yourself from doing bad things)
i wish you the best - (last text sent to martinus)
value urself, not me -(move on without me)
everyone was so happy - (before the event)
can you please - (let me out of your car)
are we still okay? - (that conversation after i woke up in marcus' bed)
right after - (burden after being used.)
even though - (more reasons)
electric -(referring to the guitar)
really? - (easily falling for lies)
the album was called abusive career.
it was dropping soon, no one knew.
(4 hours later)
YOU ARE READING
ᴺᴱᵂ ᴺᴱᴵᴳᴴᴮᴼᵁᴿ
Fanfiction•"hey martinus come over here"• •"what's up?"• •"look, i think someone new moved in"• •"ew marcus stop being such a creep"• ʏ/ɴ ʜᴀꜱ ʜᴀᴅ ᴀ ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ, ʜᴇʀ ꜰᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴀꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ɪɴ ʜᴇʀ ᴛᴇᴇɴᴀɢᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ, ꜱʜᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇᴅ ᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʟʟʏ, ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴡɴ...
