Chapter 8: Terms And Conditions

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Body sprawled out across the soft material of the comforter neatly tucked into the sides of the bed, arm resting behind his head against the pillow, Mew for the hundredth time, frustratedly groans, wanting to just roll off the bed and fall into a coma.

He's been on the internet for the past hour looking for job applications, but none of the ones he's see fit the bill, a lot of them just not working for his schedule, only a few seeming to be in his favour, and he wasn't too sure about those either.

Plus he wasn't exactly keen on not being able to enjoy the free time he got on his weekends, and yet it seemed like that was the path he was heading down.

Putting his computer aside, Mew stares up at the ceiling. He didn't really need a job, he parents were basically covering everything, he didn't need more things to have to deal with.

But he wanted it, he wanted a nagging voice at the back of his head keeping him on his feet, keeping him busy. Yes he'd be making more work for himself, but he wanted that work. He wanted to experience the things that all his friends were experiencing.

He wants to able to buy fuel for his car with his own money, he wants to buy by his groceries with his own money. Because it's a whole different feeling knowing that you've worked for your own things, it gives you a feeling of achievement and pride.

And that's all he wants, is to feel like he's accomplished something all by himself, independence is a thing everyone should strive for.

Not needing to burden anyone else with your problems because you should be the one facing them. Not needing to rely on anyone else, fully confident that you can do it yourself.

Now all he needs is to actually find a suitable job.

Deciding to continue his job hunting later, Mew gets up from the bed, getting himself a glass of water and sitting next to the window. Looking out at the sky, grey and white clouds patching over the fading blue.

It was nearing towards 17:00, and was kinda chilly outside, which was normal considering the time of day.

Looking away from the fading blue sky, Mew's gaze wonders around the room, glass still in hand as he looks for nothing in particular. Yet his eyes find an object none the less to land on. Compelling him to walk towards it.

And Mew does.

Finding himself slowly standing up from the wooden chair, placing his cold glass on the table, he makes his way towards the reflective wooden object.

Gently picking up the curved, smooth hollow instrument, Mew makes his way back to the chair, the room seemingly even quieter then before, as if the world had come to a phenomenal stand-still.

Placing it in his arms, the base resting on his thigh, he looks at it with an unreadable expression, maybe sadness? Longing?

It'd been a very long time since he'd held it like he is now. Having left it to just sit in the corner and collect dust, like so many other things. An even longer time since he'd strummed it's metallic strings.

Looking down at the auburn coloured instrument, he finds himself letting out a hollow breath. Willing himself to close his eyes, Mew glides his fingers over the strings, a soft repetitive melody filling up the quiet room.

Humming softly, he thinks back to a time where he could hardly ever put down the instrument, a time where things, he, was different. Losing himself in the moment, Mew begins to hum out a few words, with a soft and delicate voice.

"When I wake up...
Feelin' the sun against my skin~
It's as if your ghost were trying to reach me, touch me.

The angels giving me a sign,
telling me you're alright.
Call me cliché,
but I can't help finding it to be true.
Because deep down...
(I miss you)

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