In the Crowd (Tye)

Chapter 10

Yes! I have finally sprung from my writers block! I think it's because I finally found a real book to read. A sturdy, real, chapter book. (instead of reading my textbook for fun... or manga or online stuff) So I'm assuming my writing is going to be better now. I hope. Short chapter, but suck it up. I'm satisfied.

Whoa. Since WHEN did I have 11 comments??? I swear there weren't that many!  Thanks so much! I mean, that's not a lot compared to some people (Like the stories on What's Hot) but hey! I'm happy!

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Choi stepped slowly out toward where I was laying, staring up at the ceiling with a hella stiff neck. If I hadn’t been awake, I never would’ve even noticed. She propped her elbows onto the edge of the sofa. “Do you guys always sleep this early?” she asked, her voice a hushed tone. I shook my head briefly.

“Nah, this is a rare occasion,” I replied, still looking at the ceiling and not her. I could tell Choi was looking at me, staring at my “drop-dead-gorgeous” looks and drinking it all in. I knew wherever I went, people would stare at me but it was still weird. I mean, this was practically my home and I was still being watched.

I wanted to stuff her face into the couch cushions and make a run for it.

Slowly, Choi pulled at bunch of balled up papers from who-knows-where. I thought it was garbage, or maybe her rough draft- something involving her novel or whatever. She glanced at the papers before holding them out to me.

It had nothing to do with her novel.

I recognized the paper almost immediately as music sheets. “Why the hell were you looking through my stuff?” I snapped, swatting the balled up things to the floor.

“For your information, they were in the garbage- technically no longer your belongings.” She retorted. The couch cushions looked like tempting objects to hit her with. “Anyway!” Choi cut me off before I could permanently damage her head in any way. She picked up the scraps and uncrumpled one of them tenderly, as though they held something beautiful, fragile, worth keeping.

Yeah, right.

“These are really good,” she said, lowering her voice again. Why’d she bother? None of the dudes would wake up if a hurricane hit.

“Choi. Listen. I’m a professional music artist, I know whether something’s good or not.” I picked up one of the papers. “And this? It isn’t good,” I threw it back down.

Choi pursed her lips together. “Will you just listen to me?!” she snapped back. Whoa. I raised my eyebrows and sat up in my surprise. “You can be such an ass sometimes, you know that? Geez!” she huffed crossly.

“You are so not how everyone else thinks you are,” she just had to add in.

Oh, so now she gets it.

Honestly, her words didn’t affect me in the slightest; I could tell she hoped that they did. I wanted to laugh until I died. Damn, it’s so weird watching her reaction. But I liked this side of Choi, she was showing her true colors and was finally accepting the real me, though she didn’t seem to like it much.

In that moment of silence between us, Choi seemed eager to take advantage of it. “Look here Mr. Professional Music artist- don’t you see? A lot of these songs could be good if you changed a few notes,” she stuck her finger at a few notes here and there. Realizing how stubborn Choi was, I decided to play along and listen to what she was saying. It probably wasn’t correct but it’d be interesting to see how much Choi knew about music.

I hastily looked away when I realized she was telling the truth. The songs I’d simply thrown away were worthy to be published if I only altered the slightest details.

“Hey, turn your head around, I’m still talking.” She reached up to touch my cheek, to move my head and make me look back at the papers. Choi quickly pulled her hand back, faltering slightly. Immediately, she resumed talking about music. I ignored her movement too, and turned back to look at the sheets.

We stayed like that, sitting side by side on the tiny couch, writing music. I didn’t once think about how weird that was. I didn’t once think about how this was an annoying fan girl I was talking to. I didn’t once think about that feeling tugging at a small part in my chest, my heart. A feeling I didn’t think I still had.