The World Will Stain Us

We Stitch These Wounds

Writing an album, Jake had discovered, was a pain in the ass.

They were sequestered at a cafe Andy liked purely for the aesthetic, trying to write music that actually seemed compatible with the lyrics the singer was coming up with and vice versa. As yet Ashley still hadn't returned from confronting his sire, though Jake suspected he was due back any day―he'd said he'd only be gone for a couple of weeks, and they were nearing that mark.

It had been nearly two weeks since the release of the "Knives and Pens" video, and Jake had been astounded at the amount of people that had connected to it. While the industry continued to steadfastly ignore their little band, the video had reached 145 thousand views within its first week of existence. That number had tripled in the span of another week.

Andy's expression upon checking the stats and finding the number of views so high that first time had sent an odd fluttery feeling through Jake's long-still heart. "Holy shit," the youngest vampire had whispered.

"You did this, Andy," Jinxx had told him, his soft voice just as awed as Andy's own. "You made this happen."

Jake had taken in the amazed, hopeful smile on Andy's face, his electric eyes alight with astonishment and pride, his face awash in the pale blue-white glow of the computer screen, and done his best to memorize that look, deciding he'd very much like to see it again but unsure that he ever would.

"If this is what we can do with one video," Andy had breathed, "imagine what we could do with an album."

Jake had reached for one hand the same time Jinxx had reached for the other. Andy let them both hold them without protest.

"Then we'd better get to work," Jake had murmured, and the light shining in Andy's eyes when he met Jake's gaze had given him all the confidence in the world.

Now, however, that confidence was feeling more like a joke. They'd gotten nowhere in the hour and a half they'd been here; it was starting to get annoying. Andy was being stubborn, and simply looking at the notes haphazardly scrawled on pages scattered over their table didn't seem to be helping him make sense of how he could place lyrics over them. Jake knew his handwriting wasn't the greatest, but it was legible enough that it shouldn't be this difficult.

Andy shook his head again and tapped the notes Jake was pointing at. "I don't see how any lyric I've ever come up with could fit over that bar. It wouldn't make sense."

"Then leave that part alone and fit your lyric somewhere else," Jinxx suggested.

"Where else? That's the bridge, is it not?" Andy countered.

Jake threw down his pen in frustration. "Enough," he said. "We're working with scraps here, and it's not coming together to even form the slightest semblance of a meal."

Andy, Jinxx, and Sandra all looked at him. Jake considered what he'd said, then shook his head. "Alright, bad analogy, but you know what I mean. Sitting here arguing about placement is not helping anything."

"It wasn't a bad analogy," Jinxx protested mildly. Jake waved him off.

Andy crossed his arms. "I'm well aware that we're not making any progress, Jake. What do you suggest I do to fix it?"

"We could actually, I don't know, be playing the music we're writing?" Sandra suggested. "Instead of just sitting here squabbling?"

"My melodies just don't work with the riffs you're coming up with," Andy said, ignoring her. "I know what I want them to sound like and they don't match."

"Maybe if you listened instead of just looking," Jinxx chimed in, siding with Sandra, "we wouldn't be having this problem. Looking at the notes on the sheet obviously isn't helping you, so let's play them and let you hear it."