dan

the whole week passes by in a blur of events, ranging from unkempt practices with rebecca to figuring out a proper instrumental with phil. i have been maintaining my distance with him, talking to him only when it's necessary and not arguing with anything he says.

in the first three days, he had tried to make things a little normal—asking me out on lunches or dinners, trying to make jokes and offering to send me home earlier than usual but i have a very low will to have him as anything but a boss now.

a small foolish part of me was adamantly believing that phil is only unstable with relationships or has trust issues, which is why he had behaved with me the way he did. but the larger, more rational part of me undeniably knows that phil is just an asshole and would possibly never have anything with me, which is why i'm trying to break down my tolerance for phil and stop making excuses for him.

i'm aware that my mental state is really fragile, it will get triggered by the smallest of things, and the way phil basically called me a crybaby and rejected whatever we had, even if it was only for a day or two, it still makes me really fucking sad and gives me a reason to cry about when i don't actually feel like crying.

the song we are working on is on the cusp of completion, we just have to finalise it one last time so that phil and i both have the reassurance that it is infact, good enough. the instrumental is sorted but i just can't figure out the drop, there's literally nothing in the song that would make the people want to play it again.

the tip of my pencil breaks under the force, and my mind, under the stress, as i chuck the object at the floor in annoyance and bury my face in my hands. my head is swimming with a sharp sting, knocking at the insides of my mind and dissolving creativity within seconds, and i shake my head violently before letting my fingers sweep across the keys once again.

i play and replay the instrumental, trying to find a catch, trying to find those three notes that might change everything but every time i press down on the keys, the sound is worse than the last and i physically can't bear to hear it again and again.

i let my hands drop down into my lap, blunt nails digging in my thighs through the thick fabric of my jeans, my eyes shut tightly and my brain trying to find the lost focus. it's a shot in complete utter darkness because i have no motivation inside me—barely a month into this industry and i'm already on the edge of failure.

""schedule it for day after, it's almost complete anyway," phil's voice is loud and professional, and i turn my head to the side to watch him walk inside the studio, the tip of his finger tracing the deck of the piano once he approaches me.

"yeah, i'll call you if there are any alterations, thanks chris," the phone is removed from his ear and he pushes the device in his pocket, his attention diverting to me as he raises his eyebrows.

"well, what are you upto?" he asks and i just sigh loudly in response, shaking my head.

"we can't use this song yet, its not complete," i bite my lip nervously and he furrows his eyebrows, crossing his arms over his chest.

"what? why? what's wrong with it," his hand reaches out to touch my shoulder, and i'm too exhausted to flinch away.

"i-i don't know, it just sounds incomplete and weird and it's nothing special, i mean, my voice is already very mediocre and if this instrumental isn't great then this song is just going to be—"

"you think your voice is mediocre? dan, stop being so modest," he urges me to shift so he can sit beside me on the bench, and i oblige, feeling the heat in my cheeks when he settles down, our arms pressed together and legs touching.

"and don't worry about the instrumental that much, that's what i'm here for," he nudges my shoulder with his and lets his fingers find the keys. "tell me to stop where you think it needs improvisation," he tells me and i nod, running my fingers through my hair as he begins to play, somehow the notes sound much better when he's the one playing it.

i hum the song quietly, and when it reaches the chorus, that's when i stop him, and he looks at me with a confused expression on his face.

"what's wrong with that?"

"it's just not—powerful enough i guess," i shake my head, and he purses his lips trying to think of something.

"how about this?" he presses a different set of keys and i shake my head.

"no, no, no—i just, maybe we need to, do you think we should do one more instrument apart from like the piano?"

"we're doing the bass and those—"

"no, as in the lead instrument," i suggest and he tilts his head to the side.

"like what?"

"drums maybe?"

"drums? with this?"

"we could try," i look at him with a hopeful expression and he only hums in response.

"okay, come on then, let's try the drums," he slides out of the bench and walks over to the drumming set, and i part my lips slightly in confusion.

"wait you can play the drums?" i ponder out loud and he gives me a sheepish smile.

"yeah, are you surprised?" he pushes his hair out of his eyes and back off his forehead, rolling up his sleeves and spinning the drumsticks between his fingers.

"what can't you do?" i question rhetorically, and he seems to search for an answer before he opens his mouth.

"apparently, i can't make you forgive me,"

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hello !! its been such a long time since i've updated this i'm sorry i hope it wasn't too bad

i hope all of you are doing well !! love u guys