Luke Lewis stood on the porch of his house, elbows resting on the worn wooden railing, his blue eyes fixed on the sky as it changed color with the setting sun. His guitar hung on his back, held by a battered leather strap, while his headphones rested around his neck — his constant companions.
The orange sky bathed the freckles scattered across his face and lit up his red hair, which glowed like flames in the soft afternoon breeze. He wore a loose navy blue T-shirt with a vintage rock band print, ripped jeans at the knees, and worn-out white sneakers — the uniform of someone always on the move.
The quiet yard, the peeling white fence, and the swing hanging from the tree completed the scene, wrapping everything in a comforting nostalgia.
The door creaked open, and his mother's voice broke the silence.
"Are you ready for this change, Luke?" she asked with a sweet smile, though her eyes betrayed her worry.
Luke turned, pulled the headphones from his neck, and let them fall to his side. With a nervous smile, he ran a hand through his messy red hair.
"I think so." He took a deep breath. "Sometimes you just have to move forward, right? I've got my friends, music, and everything I need to face whatever comes."
She came closer and hugged him tightly, as if trying to hold onto that moment a little longer. Her floral perfume surrounded him, and Luke felt the weight of goodbye in his chest — even if it was just a change.
"I know, son. Just don't forget to call, okay?"
"I won't, Mom." He smiled, gently pulling away. "And no drama, alright? I'm not leaving forever… just going on an adventure."
Luke grabbed his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, put his headphones back on, and held his guitar firmly.
Before stepping through the gate, he cast one last look at the house — the lit windows, the scent of jasmine in the air, the distant hum of a car.
He knew he'd always have a home there.
But the true melody of life was just beginning.