Walking To the Moon

III

As each passing week inched Bryant closer to the day his father would determine his future in his stead, he grappled with the daunting reality of making a life-defining decision. With each day that slipped away, Bryant remained unsure about the path he wanted to tread for the rest of his days.

In moments of introspection, he couldn't help but question the wisdom of placing such a heavy burden on a teenager, forcing them to chart their life course prematurely. The concept of committing to a lifelong path felt colossal, and yet he was called upon to make that critical choice. "No teenager should bear the weight of such a momentous decision at this stage of life.' he reflected."

In spite of that each day passing by he was spending more and more time with Shawn. The insanely tall guy that lived just a couple blocks away from Bryant. Not so long ago they were inseparable and now faith proves that history has a way of echoing itself. After school Bryant would stop at Shawn's house just to check up on him.

"Did you write anything today?" Bryant would sneak his head through the door crack.

"Not today, no. I did last night." or "Yeah. But it's crap. Not my best day." Shawn would say.

"Did you get any calls from your agent?"

"Nothing."

"I wish I could help you."

"I wish that too."

"Sing me the last song you wrote."

"I don't have a key yet."

"Let's find one together, what do you say?"

"I'd love that!" his lips went aside showing Shawn's perfect smile.

Bryant couldn't resist not smiling back. His friend had that effect on him: his smile made him smile even when there was no reason to.

Shawn gripped his guitar by the neck and put it in his lap, moving his finger tips up and down over the strings.

"Do you even know what a key is?" Shawn's eyes wrinkled every time he smiled.

"Something that opens a song as far as I am concerned. I don't know how to find it though but I'm sure you do. So you do your thing and I'll tell you what I believe sounds best."

The dark haired guy ran the tip of his tongue over his upper lip quickly while looking at Bryant. He kept searching for Bryant's eyes but he wasn't looking his direction, therefore he gave up. The guitar's chords sang again, then as the song went by Shawn started speaking as well. Bryant was paying close attention.

"This is what I came up with now."  Shawn spoke as soon as he put the guitar on the bed.

"I liked it."

"It's still not ready yet though."

"I do have something to say. I'd change this part." Bryant pointed his finger to the handwritten words in the notebook.

"How would you change it?"

"Not lyrics. The melody."

"Yeah, but how?"

"I don't know Shawn. I'm not a singer."

"You used to sing when we were little."

"Well pointed 'I used to'."

"You still can. I can teach you."

"I don't..."

"Your voice was awesome. I think it still is."

"I used to like it too. I don't anymore."

"Don't you sometimes sing?"

"I do."