Emo and the escape (emo quartet x reader)

untitled document of an untitled soul

It wasn't a walk in the park, getting from the store to my house, especially by myself. My feet hurt even more than the first time we walked from my house to here, but when you're surrounded by people you love, pain doesn't really matter, does it?

In my room there's a poster, although I never finished it. It's full of quotes from all these kids I met, and how music changed them. I stopped making it when not enough people cared to help. At least I had some.

Just so you know, carrying a keyboard is not easy. I never thought I'd have to lug it around the city, so I didn't have a case. This "plan" was plan B. Plan A..... didn't seem like a good option, although as the weight of loss grew ever stronger, it kept seeming like it would be simpler. The fault in my plan B is, it might not work, heck I doubt it will, and plan A, those types of plans always work.

A white key falls off the keyboard as it bumps down the steps, and if I cared I would have picked it up. When I get outside a start to wish. I wish that none of this had happened. I wished every person in that concert hall could have gone home with a smile and a happy memory. But mostly, I wish on every single star in the universe, that this will work.