a reason for waking {lynn gunn au}

m e e t i n g

"This world is a masterpiece," Lynn murmurs in the middle of the night, smiling a little to herself. The words bounce around her head, the same ones that she wrote down years ago.

It's nights like these that remind her of how true those words are.

Streetlights shine down onto the sidewalk, casting a lively glow in the night. The moon is high in the sky, stars burning in the distance. Headlights flash briefly, and her eyes always lock with the driver's for a split second before they head to a destination that will forever remain a mystery to the young woman.

Everything feels possible, and Lynn feels alive again, like she can finally breathe.

Night is when she is finally able to wake up.

The soft hum of music is the only sound audible in the diner. The lights flicker, which breaks Lynn out of her thoughts occasionally. She wishes she could fix them, but there are no bulbs in the diner, and she can't leave. The blonde is mainly just looking for something to do. The cleaning has been done, dishes put away, and now she just has to wait.

Lynn gets up from her booth and begins to wander around the diner, looking at the old seats of worn red leather and the black and white tiles that she's recently swept over. The clicks of her boots sound like a beat, and she stops at the counter, drumming her fingers against it.

She's always loved music; she just wishes she had the courage to pursue it. She shouldn't have turned Alex, Brian, and Justin down when they decided to actually try to do something with their dreams. She should've said yes. The boys are still practicing at Alex's place, but they only have instrumentals and need a lyricist. Lynn doesn't think she'll ever stop beating herself up for deciding to turn them down. She's too nervous and self-conscious to change her mind, but part of her really wants to know how it would feel, putting her words out into the world.

Maybe in another life, she's onstage with a guitar and her best friends, singing the words---the ones she'd never even dreamed of sharing with anyone---at the top of her lungs. Feeling the release as her emotions were finally out of her and helping other people, making them feel content and giving them hope.

Now, at twelve thirty in the morning, she can almost feel the exhilaration---the roars of guitars and bangs of drums and bass riffs under hot lights in a small room, people singing along with all of the things she thinks, things she feels, and her heart swells with joy, love, and pure energy.

Then she opens her eyes to the dim, flickering lights of an empty diner, alone once more, the emptiness filling her chest.

If only.

With a small sigh, the young woman looks down at the counter, where her rough sketch for class is lying on top of her binder. She finished shading the portrait of the girl just a few minutes ago, and it looks okay, she guesses. In her mind's eye, though, it could be a lot better. She's been working on it for days now, erasing and ripping and redrawing, trying to get everything just right. It's just a woman, but she has to go beyond this really soon, and she can't screw up. Lynn hasn't felt as inspired lately, and while writing or drawing usually helps her out, feels like a lifeline, it now feels like the ink is blood and she's bleeding out, slowly dying with every drop of black that drips onto the paper.

This feeling isn't the greatest to have while enrolled in art school.

The last few nights have been coated in both appreciation and frustration, and Lynn gets the feeling that tonight will be no different.

She picks up the pen and pencil again, mentally cursing herself for being such a perfectionist. What needs to be fixed now? She taps the edge of the eraser against her chin, biting her lip slightly and looking around, trying to decide if she really wants to do this again tonight.