❤❤ Sing for Me ❤❤

Chapter 1 (Prologue)

A/N: Certain chapters in the book will be R-Rated. As per Wattpad Rules, you will have to follow me to read them.

Please note that this is unedited! If you see any mistakes send me a message.

The first 2 chapters move a little slow and are long, but pick up when the story reaches present day. (Chapter 2) I wrote them with the intent of self-publishing so they are in ebook format.
These original chapters were written in book length for publishing.
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Grayson

The haunting voice cries out
No face to ease my pain
Obsession now consumes me
I'm forever changed- Dark Rain

7 years ago...

"Dammit!" I kick my ancient nemesis and hobble over into the shade of an orange tree. It's my usual luck, that today, the day I have zero extra time, the rickety mower finally dies.

In less than 3 hours, I have to be in Tampa, where my band, Dark Rain, is competing in a Battle of the Bands finale. If I screw this up because I don't have gas money, or I'm late, my bandmates will kill me.

Not only are they counting on me to play the drums, but my truck hauls our gear. No matter what it takes I need to get this yard finished, get paid, and get the hell on the road.

I stare at the mower, looking for an answer. I'm no mechanic, but I am pretty sure the gray smoke billowing out from underneath, is a certain sign of death. Two things I know about this mower: One, it is like 10 years older than me. And two, there is enough duct tape holding it together that I could make a tux for prom. Beyond that, my knowledge is pretty limited.

When it comes to mechanics, I am clueless. If Kason, my older brother was here, he would have the mower up and running in no time. Hell, if he was home the mower wouldn't have issues to begin with. He is too much of a perfectionist to let that happen.

My first instinct is to beat the hell out of it with a hammer. No, it won't fix the problem, but at least I'd feel better, right? My motto, "when all else fails, hit it." Probably the reason I became a drummer in the first place. Well, that and my Mom's insistence that I hit something other than people.

When I was younger, I had what some would call "anger issues." My opinion; life handed me lemons so I figured I'd beat them into lemonade.
My Mom, normally a patient woman, was not pleased with the way I handled my anger. Not long after my 8th birthday, and the second time I was suspended from school for fighting, she brought home a well-used drum set. Anytime I showed the least bit of anger, she'd send me to my room to wail on my drums. Somewhere between banging out a beat and weekly karate lessons, my temper became manageable.

Now, back to the problem at hand. Since I am a somewhat logical person, I am aware that hitting the mower will likely make matters worse. I need a plan B, and quick.

My eyes drift to the double wide next door. The gutters are hanging down into the yard, half of the skirting appears bent or missing, and most of the windows are in need of new screens. The metal of the trailer was either yellow or brown at one time, but the hot Florida sun has bleached it to a dirty white. I haven't met or seen the people who recently moved in, but judging by the outward appearance, they are going to need a lot of work done. Maybe I could make a deal with them, borrow their mower in exchange for some labor. That is if they have one. The odds don't look in my favor.

I am hesitant to go over and knock on their door with my offer. The last thing I want to do is offend my new neighbors, but standing around isn't going to solve my problem either. I guess I'll see if anyone is home and wing it.