Lynne

Chapter 7

"'Discussing company affairs on any social media, or to any other person is prohibited," I read aloud. "The hell?"

"They have to say that," Len explained over the clanking of dishes in the kitchen. "They don't really mean any of that stuff."

I picked my pen up off the couch next to me. "You guys post stuff about the company all the time on Twitter."

"Exactly. They don't care."

My shoulder slumped. "Then why do I have to sign this shit?" The stack of papers was heavy in my lap.

"We all had to do it." A clinking noise sounded as Len loaded the dishwasher. "And it's the only paperwork you'll ever have to do."

I scratched my forehead with the butt of my pen. "Yeah, I guess." Our new outfits sat in the box on a step next to me. I glanced at them every once in a while, my mind still racing from the fact that I was officially part of the family. At least, according to Erik I was.

I heard Len close the dishwasher. He walked down to the couch, and plopped down next to me.

"Hey-" I complained as he knocked my signature across the page. I frowned at the long line of pen I had drawn over the fine print.

"Shit," he said, looking over it. "Sorry."

"Ah, whatever," I dropped my hand on the papers, looking over my distorted signature. "They don't care."

"Anyways," he said, stretching his arms. "We need to get writing."

I took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can do it." I set the half-finished paperwork on the couch. "I'm all out of ideas."

He shrugged. "We're gonna have to come up with something."

I bit my cheek, brainstorming. "Well... what kind of instruments should we use?" My mind was drawing a huge blank. I couldn't even remember how Miku and I had started writing Rolling Girl yesterday.

Len rubbed his forehead. "I dunno."

I shot him an irritated look. "You gotta help me out here. 'I dunno' isn't gonna work."

He held his hands up defensively. "I have just as many ideas as you do."

"So... none?"

"Yup."

I let out a quick breath of annoyance. "Well... do you want to start with the lyrics or th-"

I was cut off by the sound of our front door opening. The two of us looked up at the fireplace, waiting to see who would come out from behind it. Gumi skipped into our view, and planted both feet on the floor when she saw us.

"Well, well, well," she exclaimed loudly. "What do we have here?"

Len rolled his eyes. "We have to brain dead people who are trying- and failing -to write a song."

Gumi shook his head, her hands on her hips. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. What a shame." She suddenly perked up, her movements comical and overdramatic. "Rin needs to come write with me anyway."

I laughed. "Um, what?"

She pointed at me. "Me and you are gonna write the best thing to ever bless the ears of the human race."

"We're kind of busy here," Len interrupted, sitting up.

She waved a hand at him, dismissing him. "This is important."

"Gumi, we're actually..." Len searched for his words. "...business partners. I would say this is more important."

"No," Gumi pleaded, putting her hands together as if she were praying. "You don't understand."