Had To Be You (Romance/Drama) [COMPLETED]

Chapter 2 - Demons

Maybe it was the air outside that stroked the artist puppy inside of him. It could also have been the sudden stillness of his empty house. But Lucas got his guitar, his sheet music, and a pencil. And his mind began to work.

He liked the feeling of nature surrounding him, with nothing but the earth beneath him as he wrote. The purity of quiet, imperfect surroundings evoked from him an equally pure fluidity that brimmed over and onto his sheet music. A fluidity, that although he never wanted to admit, was composed of feeling.

He needed to get out of those cream painted walls.

Something about what Luke did with his musical process was effective, because it had borne two successful records in the course of just two years. He was a newborn musician with more success than any newbie of his genre could ever hope for, and more than he could want himself. Luckily for him his genre of musical calling did not bring with it an ostentatious, maniacal fan-base or a glamorous fame in the spotlight. His fan-base was loyal and human, admiring of his uncut, unpolished songwriting. It barely touched Miami. The largely Hispanic population and party-going scene found barely any interest in him, and the ones who did merged with the crowds, as he himself did. It made his chosen locale the right one.

The most potent taste of fame Luke had gotten was during the time a song from his second album had been included in a romantic drama film the past summer, and even then he had been quick to decline anything other than a written interview and a few photographs. Luke had played his cards right; allowing for recognition and denying of fame.

Now he could look out into the beach from his backyard and have a lady clean for him. He payed hardly any bills and had a steady, comfortable income. There was no gray in his hair, nor would there likely be any for a while in thanks to the success of his music; success, that he didn't mind admitting, was not crucial to him. He made music because he loved to, and he would continue to do the same even if his luck took a term for the worse. That he was comfortable enough to say with utmost sincerity.

Luke thought he was well satisfied. He did not dare to admit that he was not content. He would not allow himself to suspect that there might be something amiss in his life, something that he needed to fix. To fight for. It was too dangerous for Luke to think that precariously, because his life was well structured. Perfect to some.

And when he wrote, he sometimes found himself wishing that he could distance himself from his writing, using only relatable words that could be put melodiously into song. He did not like to think that those words were composed of him... But he knew they were. At least that, he could not mentally escape. His artistic intuition and awfully sensitive everything did not let him escape his inborn nature. He was too aware of himself for such lies.

Luke went outside with his things and walked down the expanse of yard, straight down to the sand. He was barefoot, so the gravelly grains seeped soothingly through the spaces between his toes, warming him. Just an inch further and his toes would be grazed by the seawater. He made it to the dock, passing his boat and to the farthest end, and sat down so that his legs hung over the wood. His legs were cooled by the sea breeze and sprayed with water whenever a temperamental wave crashed onto the dock's pillars. The setting sun sent a mirage of orange, pink, and yellow to dance over the spring waters. It was a lovely sight, humbling even, and it gave him peace.

He set the leather-bound book of sheet music on the wooden surface beside him and opened it to a fresh page, using the burgundy page restrainer to do exactly as it was supposed to. The book was heavy enough that a rare wind would not send it tumbling down into the waters, but his pencil was not as secure. Luckily the weather was stable, and Floridian, so Luke knew he should not worry about rain or air. It just wasn't likely.