Warm Bodies: The Answer

Into the World

"Like this?" Marcus asked, his tongue protruding in effort as he strangled the neck of the guitar.

Rowan gave an encouraging smile and tilted his head. "Well.. that's.. sort of right, it's..." He leaned forward to adjust his friend's fingers for the chord, then sat back again.

"This?" Marcus asked again, twisting his fingers like an arthritic ape, before smashing down against the strings.

The guitar screamed through the amp, and Marcus kept going, strumming above the bridge in a frenzy that left Rowan wincing.

"Marcus, that's.."

"POUR SOME SUG-ER ON MEEEE!" Marcus roared, throwing his head back with a wild scowl as he thrashed against the strings and the room filled with the squeal of tortured electrics. With a few sloppy stabs of his foot against the nearby pedals, the sound started to wail, hiss and reverb back over itself until it plateaued into pure noise, ridiculous and not unlike standing next to a jet engine.

Rowan jumped forward, "Holy shit, Marcus, stop, you're..."

There was a muffled pop, and the room fell suddenly silent, as a thin tendril of smoke wafted up from the small amp.

"...going to blow the.. amp," Rowan finished slowly, staring down at the speaker.

"Damn," Marcus swore, looking down at the little black box, before his mouth broke into a big smile as he looked back up. "That was EPIC!"

Rowan smirked at his friend. "It was... something."

Gaze falling to the guitar again, Marcus clenched the neck, trying to bend his fingers over the right strings. "I don't think I'm getting this."

"It's only your third lesson Marcus, you just need some practice."

With a knowing smirk, Marcus looked up at Rowan. "Nah. I think I need more than that."

Rowan smiled down at him. "What d'you mean? You'll get it - let's just try the G chord again."

Marcus sighed and shook his head. "It's not worth it Rowan, I don't have what you have. I don't have the talent for this, and my fingers... they just don't give a shit."

Rowan opened his mouth, ready to give some encouraging words, but he smiled instead. Marcus would see through it. His friend had an amazing bullshit meter.

Instead, he sat back down on the old sofa chair, and tugged at the stuffing through the worn arm covers as he smiled at his friend.

"How's it going at the school?" he asked. "You still enjoying that?"

Marcus gave him a strained look. "Dunno if 'enjoyed' is the right word." His mouth eased into a smile. "It's hard, but... I can't give it up. I love those kids."

Rowan grinned. "You still singing that rabbit song?"

His friend shot him a warning glare. "You know, Ed promised me he was going to keep that to himself."

"Yeah, and he did." Rowan smirked, "For six months."

Marcus snorted, shaking his head. "They love that song. I'll be singing it for the rest of my life. It might end me."

Rowan laughed at that. Marcus handed him back the guitar then, and he took it, stepping out into the main part of the store to hang it back on the wall. There was a young kid hanging around the record trays, thumbing through the blues section, and Rowan waved at him to catch his eye.

"Need any help?"

The kid looked up through a curly mass of red hair and shrugged with a small smile.