Me and Him and a Bit of Music

Troy was always good at his New Years revolutions but in 2018, his resolution was changed.

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12. Twelve

 

“Troye, wake up.’’ I feel a hand touch my arm, my heartbeat rising even higher, my eyes burst open, sweat dripping down my face. “Troye, what happened? I heard you scream.’’ I turn my head to see Justin sitting on the bed next to me, looking down at me.

 

    “Nothing,’’ I say, shaking my head.  “Nothing happened. It was just a dream.”

“Really? It sounded like you were screaming bloody murder.” He frowns standing up and grabbing the water that was placed on the table. He brings it over to me, handing me the glass. I refuse, still shaken up from the dream that was all too real. It did happen a while ago, but I never thought that it would just come back one day, giving me horrors of my past.

    “I’ll get up soon,’’ I say and rub my face, pulling up the covers around my body. Justin nods and places the glass down, stepping out of my room. “Back aren’t you?” I say, referring to my- subconscious- inner demon. There isn’t a response obviously, but I know the dark parts of my thoughts are inching back to me, slowly and as painful as possible. I toss the sheets off of my body and place my feet on the cold wooden floor, my body wanting to stay in the comfort of the bed instead of getting up to deal with the day. “Today is gonna be different,’’ I speak to myself, standing up and opening my closet, grabbing whatever clothes my hands landed on. “Today’s recording day. I plan for success.’’ I speak again, trying my best to give myself some self-motivation since I rarely have it on a normal occasion.  

 

    “Hey.’’ Justin says walking in my room, being careless to knock, I look at him wide-eyed as I stand on only my boxers “Woah calm down there, we do have the same body parts ya know.’’ I shake my head.

“It’s not that, you just caught me off guard. Please knock next time.’’  He frowns, then sits on my bed, his phone in hand.

“Sorry, I was just, excited.’’ His fingers type away on his phone, a smile spreading across his face. “You’re not gonna believe this.’’

    “Believe what?” I ask, sliding a black shirt over my head. I then, slide on black skinny jeans before sitting down next to him.

“So I sent Forman Records your cover of the song you wrote and sang and-’’ I cut him off, not really fond of the words that just left his lips.

    “You what?”’ I exclaim. “Justin, that song was private to me, I didn’t want anyone to hear it but myself. You’re lucky that I let you listen to it and record the drums in the foreground.’’

 

“Just listen to me.’’ He says, placing a hand on my shoulder, my lips pursed. “I sent them that song. They respond just the other day saying that they were impressed and that they wanted to sign us as a band.’’

 

    

 
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