Adopted By Why Don't We [Completed]

Chap 15: Song Writing and Waffles

It feels nice to be back, especially to reunite with everyone. It's been three days since I've returned and I'm currently curling up in bed drawing new designs in my sketchbook. Lately I've been more attached to clothes designing from all this free time.

Suddenly, a loud noise of a guitar strum plays from across the hall. "Ugh, come on," someone says frustratedly. As usual, I let my curiosity get the best of me and I followed the guitar sound to stop at one of the boys' room. I hesitate, wondering if I should knock or not. I bite my lip, slowly pressing my knuckles down the door repeatedly. "What?"

I slowly open the door and enter halfway through the entrance. "Sorry, am I interrupting?" I ask softly.

"Not really, I was just about to give up," Zach admits.

"On what?"

"Song writing, I'm literally going through a major writer block right now." I hear him groan in between words, as he strums under pressure. "The record label already extended the deadline by a week and I still got nothing but the melody and the beat."

I furrow my brows, taking a seat by him. "What do you got so far?" He looks down at his music sheet and starts playing as I nod to the rhythm. I'm impressed. The song soon comes to an end and he looks at me, giving me the 'what do you think' look. "It's good," I smile. "Now you just need lyrics," I tease.

"I'm working on it. I mean I got a bunch of ideas but I can't seem to bundle them up together, you know?"

"What's on your mind? Like what's the song about?" I ask.

He shrugs. "I don't really know how to explain it. It's complicated," he tells me, rubbing the back of his neck and I nod in response. "But I got the beginning of the pre-chorus written down."

"Play it."

"It's only a draft though, and it's not that good," Zach makes a lame excuse. I reply with a glare and he soon gives in. He begins to strum again, this time adding lyrics. "And all we used to think about is getting drunk and hiding out," he mumbles.

"Interesting choice of words, considering all of you guys are under age of drinking," I say.

"Yeah, well like I said from before, it's just a thought," he shrugs, erasing his sheet of paper, writing some new lyrics I assume. "And all we used to think about," he pauses, "dream about, and all we used to dream about is getting-uh-um. Feel free to chime in." Zach sings aloud.

I laugh, shrugging my shoulders. "I don't know, I'm not a songwriter. All I know is that most songs contain relationship problems, luxury, and cuss words nowadays, so choose one of the three," I suggest.

He makes a face but then his eyes widen. It's like a light bulb appears on the top of his head. "And all we use to dream about is getting rich and getting out," he sings aloud.

"Move to the nicer part of town," I say out of nowhere, trying to match my voice with the beat. It clearly didn't.

"That's it," he smiles happily as he writes down the words he just sang. He looks up at me, and waves his hand in circle. "Keep going," he instructs, playing the guitar.

I raise an eyebrow. "Um, I don't know? Where we have porches on the-uhh," I stutter, spitting out words under pressure. "You really shouldn't be asking me this."

"I mean it's worth a shot."

I shake my head, taking a stand. "Well this has been fun. I'm gonna grab some breakfast, do you want any?" I offer, but he answers with a no. "Okay, good luck with the rest," I smile, exiting out of his room and straight to the kitchen.

"Morning," Jack greets me by pulling strands of hair from my ponytail. "Haha, it looks like there's a giant pimple on your head," he laughs like a three year old.

I roll my eyes, taking a seat on the normal chair I usually sit in. "And your hair looks like a bowl of spaghetti, the only difference between you and me is that yours is permanent."

"Good one Kristen," Jonah steps in, laughing.

"Really? Really, Dinah? That's right, I remembered." Jack says with sass in his voice. Just when I thought that name would die. Daniel comes around, sliding waffles onto our plates. "Yay, waffles!" Jack mood changes in a flat second.