Her tattered, spiral bound black notebook sat on the ground in front her, her messy handwriting coating the pages in pencil lyrics. She never wrote in pen, she didn’t want to risk having to cross something out. She liked to entertain the fantasy that someday her name would be up in lights, and her songs would be heard around the world. That people would be begging to see the original version of lyrics to her top hit singles. If that were ever to happen, she wouldn’t want to show them pages of crossed out marks and splotches of ink. She’d want to show them something more clean and put together, as thought she could do it all on the first try.
Encore rested on her lap, her fingers jumping out the fret board as she strummed, while also leaning over to read the words she’d written on crumpled, water warped pages. The old notebook had been with her since she first crafted her guitar, it had been a gift from Amber. She hadn’t touched it until after her girlfriend had died, but now, in the short time since her death, it had been filled with page upon page of song lyrics. All scrawled aggressively, eagerly, onto the paper. The very lines that formed the words held passion, as she often wrote songs whenever she was particularly upset or afraid. Because of this, it wasn’t that hard to read the bold marks from where she sat. Despite the book being on the ground, not the best angle for reading and playing at the same time, she had little trouble reading along with the lyrics as she sang them out.
“Can you hear it
The tempest in my mind
Can you feel it
The chain that wraps and winds
Arounds my heart
I can’t breathe
All those times they rip me from my crime
Why can’t they see
That we weren’t lying...” It was one of her older songs, written about her parents’ hatred for her relationship with Amber. Most of her songs were about Amber. What else was there to sing about? The brunette consumed all her waking thoughts. Her dreams, too, were filled with green eyes and butterfly wings. It was hard to not write songs about something she could never stop thinking about.
For every soul that’s ever felt this kind of
When hearts break
And the only thing that’s left seems to be rain
There’s rain, to share
There’s rain, to spare
Thunder breaks...” She had dreamed the chorus of Clouds Ache a while back, not long after the assault that lead to Amber’s death. She had been laying in the grass with the butterfly faunus, who had pointed to a cloud and said that one looks like it’s in pain. Do you think clouds ever ache the way we get headaches? Of course, then the dream had dissolved into something more akin to a nightmare, full of bloodshed and screaming. But when she had awoken, all Holly could think about was clouds ache. She had begun writing the chorus right then and there.
“With no street lights
The shadows keep us quiet
And every night
We start to open doors
And break down walls
Let them fall
Brick by brick we’ll take them all down
Won’t let this love stay, a ghost town...” Just as she was about to launch into the second chorus, a leaf fell from the tree above her. It, with amazing accuracy, landed directly over her guitar strings, causing her hand to slip.
“Why...?” Holly sighed, annoyed, as she removed the leaf from her guitar and picked up the song again, starting with the second chorus. She was aware that people might be watching, but she tried to push her concerns away. If she wanted to ever make it anywhere in the music industry, she’d had to get over her fear of playing in public.