Dane and Zion

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

~Zion~

       I have never really been a person who got nervous but right now, that was all that I was feeling. Why did I even agree to letting Dane look at my songs? I already knew they weren't any good. I didn't need Dane, who was a professional songwriter, to tell me that it sucked.

       Dane had been looking over one of the songs for a while now, not giving a single hint of what he thought about it.

       I wanted to ask him right now what he thought, but I was going to wait until he was done with the whole thing. Then, he could give me his thoughts all at once.

       Though, the thoughts would probably be, "Wow, this sucks. Quit while you're ahead."

       Eventually, Dane placed the song down on the coffee table, signalling that he was finished looking over it. "So... What do you think?"

       Dane looked at me. "Do you want my honest opinion?"

       "No, Dane," I said sarcastically. "I want you to lie to my face, despite me asking you what you thought of it and deciding to show you the song anyway."

       "You're just full of sarcasm, aren't you?" Dane said. "Okay, so in my opinion... This isn't bad."

       "Very funny."

       "I'm serious. The music itself isn't bad. It's just the lyrics are..."

       Dane hesitated as he tried finding the words to describe the atrocity that I called a song, so I finished the sentence for him. "Horrible?"

       "I wasn't going to say horrible," Dane said. "More like... basic. Like... Anyone can write this. For songwriting, you want to write songs that not too many people can write. Of course, all songs don't have to be personal, but it does help to take experience from your life and use that."

       "Okay, so for example, I love spaghetti," I said. "Should I write a song about spaghetti?"

       "What?" Dane asked. "No, not at all. Who would even want to listen to a song about spaghetti?"

       "Uh, me. And probably other spaghetti lovers."

       "No offence, but I don't think a song about spaghetti would sell that well," Dane said.

       I huffed and leaned back into the couch. "Alright, so... What am I supposed to write about?"

       "Anything, really," Dane said. "Which, yes, seems a bit contradictory because I just told you not to write about spaghetti but, well... You should write about your feelings."

       "So... My feelings for spaghetti?" I asked, mainly to bug Dane because I loved being a pest. I mean, what was the point of being friends with someone if I couldn't bug them?

       I'll tell you; there was no point.

       Dane was able to tell I was joking because he just gave me a small smile. "I mean, if you truly want to, we could whip up a song about spaghetti."

       "Or, better yet..." I said. "We whip up some spaghetti instead. How does that sound?"

       I did get up from the couch to go to the kitchen now that I was really craving spaghetti, but Dane grabbed my hand and pulled me back down. "I thought I also came over so we could continue working on the second song, not so you could make spaghetti."

       I sighed. "But I'm hungry."

       "Didn't you just eat lunch?" Dane asked.

       "Yes, but I'm a growing boy," I said. "Besides, I'm always hungry for spaghetti."