querencia • jonah marais | ✓

2.2

"I CAN'T DO THIS ANYMORE."

Ari leaves her song book on the open piano. The wrinkled pages inside double the side of the notebook, and the cover is worn from the battering it received over the past weeks. While shouldering her bag, She breezes past Jonah and the rest of the boys. Her steps are quick, carrying her to the door within seconds.

"I'm going to go to college, find a job. I'll be a semester late, sure, but I'll at least be able to join my classmates at college. I'm quitting music,"
She explains on her way out.

The boys stare at each other, dumbfounded, and Arilyn is out the door before any of them can verbalize a response.

Her frustration had reached her breaking point. She'd been avoiding her calls for days, not daring to look at the texts her manager had sent. She let her family's calls go directly to voicemail, never hearing what they had to say. Ari had shut herself into a small box, pushing everyone—including the Why Don't We boys—out. Her announcement was believable, yet it stunned everyone, towing in heartbreak; the boys wanted the talented artist to have the future she dreamed of, and the combination of the expectations placed upon her and her frustration crushed her to pieces.

Jonah is the first to react, he runs out the door, following close behind the girl. His barefoot feet sprint onto the cement, reaching her car before she does.

"No."

He looks down at the Arilyn, a glint of determination gleams in his eyes. Ari stares at him dumbly.

"No?" She asks with a raised eyebrow, "Jonah, I haven't written a word in weeks! I'm not capable of being a musician like you or any of the other boys."

Jonah freezes, comprehending her words. He'd tried to help her through whatever she was going through, but he'd obviously failed. Her frustration was blatantly obvious, and he'd tried to maintain a positive aura, but the news that she hadn't written for weeks was mind-blowing; he's thought she'd been at least writing a little.

"Wait," He stops her from opening her car door, an hand resting on her forearm, "You haven't written in weeks?"

"No," Ari shakes her head, "You never noticed because you never looked inside my book," Her words are bitter and painful.

"I thought—"

"I know what you thought, Jonah, but it wasn't realistic," She brushes his hand off her arm, "Now, please, let me go."

"No," Jonah reaches for her shoulder, and she shrinks under his touch.

His hand scalds her skin, seemingly burning her shoulder. Arilyn begins to push him away again, but the glint in his eyes stops her. She freezes under his gaze. Jonah's eyes plead with her, begging her not to leave. Ari immediately notices the familiar look of passion: similar to the way his eyes light up on stage.

"I'm not letting you walk away from everything you have. I'm not letting you just leave behind your music career," Jonah states definitely.

"Jonah, you've tried. You promised me I would be able to write one day, that it was a rough patch," Ari takes a breath, "But, I've waited, and I can't do it. I'm
not made for the music business."

Her face falls in pure defeat.

"No," Jonah shakes his head, "Listen to me, Ari. I know that you're made to be a musician. I've seen the way your eyes light up when you're writing or the way you seem to smile ten times brighter when you perform. You can't leave it behind."

"Jonah, it's better for everyone that I quit. My family needs me at home, and I should actually start planning a realistic future," Arilyn turns around with a note of finality in her voice, reaching for the car door again.

"If you walk away now, you'll forever wonder about the future that you could have had."

Jonah's words were true, but Ari wouldn't look back at the excruciating pain that she'd been experiencing for the past weeks. She felt more and more lost with every day that passed; she was beginning to break. She broke with every word that couldn't be written and every chord she couldn't play. She was lost in a forest of thoughts with no way out.

"We're in this together. From here on out, we'll find your sound and who you are together. You're not alone, okay?" He asks, taking her hand.

Jonah's eyes plead one last time. He prays that she'll turn back again and accept his offer, that she won't give it up. Ari's eyes war between leaving and staying, the conflict that resides within her tearing her apart, and Jonah watches, in those seconds, the combat that she faces.

He doesn't receive his answer until she tilts her chin up to look him in the eye. One word passes her lips clearly.

"How?"