The Soul Mate. (Kellic.)

So long soldier. (Or Chapter 7.)

So, it's shorter. I know. I just really wanted to end it there. Update either tonight or tomorrow, so don't get upset! I like this chapter, a lot. I don't know if it'll make sense to anyone but me, but I just love it. I loved writing it. Let me know if it makes sense to any of you? And this chapter has a name woah idk I just thought it kind of fitted well with this.
Lots of dramaaaaaaa soon.

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I laughed when Tony took Jaime to the hospital, and I laughed when they came back an hour later and Jaime simply had a sprained ankle. When mamá and papá weren't looking, he gave me the finger before limping upstairs.

The next few weeks were spent packing and meeting all of the guys who would be my family for the next two months. The guys from A Day To Remember were nice, they just weren't the type of people I hung out with. When I wasn't with Vic, I was with All Time Low at Zack and Jack's music store. They were making sure everything was up-to-date for the people who would run their shop while they were on tour. Jack offered me a job there, saying I could start once we got back, and I couldn't say yes fast enough.

Jack and Alex were really something else. They made me laugh for hours on end, and they were just so adorable together, I can't even see how I though Jack was with Zack and not Alex. If I was upset, they always seemed to know exactly how to cheer me up. The times I spent with them were full of making up songs- sometimes stupid ones off the top of our heads, sometimes actual lyrics that they could use at some point- and just hanging out and listening to whatever came in on the new shipments Jack ordered.

In the five days I ended up spending with the guys at the music shop, Alex and I, with a little input from the rest of the band, wrote a pretty fucking awesome song titled Guts. We just had to put music with it, and it would be perfect. I learned a lot writing with Alex. We were a lot more similar than I thought. This song came from straight out of my heart, and I knew he felt the same way. I think while we wrote it, we were too focused on getting the thoughts down to realize the emotion coming from the other, but as we stood back and looked at our masterpiece, it was like our minds were wide open on the page.

The rest of the guys knew to leave Alex alone when he wrote, only to bother him if he called or it was an emergency, so he could come out of his box, so to say, and do whatever he needed to write. Writing with Alex was full of illegible notes and messy thoughts that somehow formed themselves into perfection. But now, we were done, and I could talk to him like I never would if Jack was around. When you write lyrics, there's a certain...sacredness, almost, right after you finish. You don't want to be bothered for a moment, you just want to marvel in the fact that you wrote a song. You made something out of nothing. And suddenly, fear sets in. Fear that no one will see how much you put into the lyrics, the flow, anything. They'll hate it, and you'll be heartbroken. You poured your heart and soul into this, and no one notices how much it means to you. All lyricists react to this fear differently. Some take it to as many people as possible and have them look over it and watch for amazement in their faces. Some tweak and tweak their work over and over again, until they tuck it away and never look at it again.

For me, this fear usually manifested itself in the form of a panic attack. Dealing with this problem has helped me learn to keep it under control most times, but just knowing that there was someone whose thoughts ran parallel to my own, someone who has gone through struggles such as I have, it seemed overwhelming. I had always been alone, never having someone who could understand my thoughts. In the past almost month, I had been bombarded with people who understand what I'm going through or help in every way possible. My other friends, they tried to help, they really did, but my thoughts were on a totally different plane than theirs, and it never connected quite right.

Looking over at Alex, it seemed like his fear came in the same form as mine. With this anxiety, I always felt immensely vulnerable. I locked myself in my room for hours after I finished something I knew was good, refused to talk to anyone, and just felt. Happy, worried, excited, sad, angry, whatever came to me. It was an emotional rush.