Polaroids and Postcards | ✔️

Chapter 33: Mountains and Music

"I see my path, but I don't know where it leads. Not knowing where I'm going is what inspires me to travel it." – Rosalia de Castro

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I woke before Della did.

Condensation had collected around the edges of the windows and a pale light was spilling through the curtains, landing in soft patterns on the hardwood floors. The air in the living room was chilly, but with Della still leaning into me, I never felt warmer.

As I shifted to look at her, she stirred in her sleep, snuggling up even closer to me than before. She was still bundled in her blanket, but at some point in the night, she had thrown part of it over me to shield me from the cold as well.

I couldn't resist the smile that formed on my lips.

The thought suddenly came to me to start the fire again, since it had burned out in the night. I knew Della would appreciate it, and I knew I wouldn't complain about some extra warmth either. So I set to work.

A few minutes later, after the fire was built, I slipped into the kitchen again to brew a pot of coffee. While the coffee machine dripped and hissed, I stared out the kitchen window at the crisp landscape again. The sight made me realize that I had to consciously remember to keep breathing. Those insane mountains were far too beautiful to simply take for granted. When you looked at them, they became the whole world to you—like nothing else existed. I caught myself wishing once more that I could just live there and never leave ever again.

Just me and Della, the mountains, chilly mornings, a roaring fire, and late nights of talking about nothing on the couch...

Before long, the rich smell of the coffee brought me back to reality and the seriousness of my situation. I couldn't stay there in the mountains forever, chilly mornings would fade into the heat of summer, fires burn out, and Della Rae was not mine to keep in any sense of the word.

The first sip of coffee warmed me all the way through, bringing a moment of clarity and balance to my hectic thought process.

I needed to focus. My music was going to have to be my top priority if I was going to have any hope for a chance at the audition, which was my main reason for being here anyway, and I hadn't practiced seriously in... Woah, how many days had it been??

I mentally ran through a list of possible songs I could sing, but something stopped me from seriously considering any of them. At first, I wasn't sure why I had mentally shut down the ideas, but then Della's voice echoed in my ears again, reminding me.

'Find one that you can make your own, Jason. Make it mean something.'

I gripped my coffee cup and rushed to find my guitar case. I needed to play, and I needed to play right then. If I could just play for a few minutes undisturbed, maybe I still had a chance.

I scuttled out to the porch and sunk into the swing that wavered in the breeze. It made a pleasant creaking sound when I sat into it and began to push my feet back and forth to gain some slight momentum.