"Come on Aria we'll be late for class!" Samantha yells at me from across the hall. "I'm coming!" I yell back as I gather my stuff from my locker and head toward her.
Samantha has been my friend since the second semester of college. It's the sixth semester now, and college wouldn't have been half as fun without her.
We both enrolled in music college to chase our dreams of becoming professional musicians. For me, I've always loved music. It has always echoed through every emotion I've ever felt. That's why I picked up the piano and guitar as my main instruments, then added drums and bass. I may not have mastered them, but I know enough to turn emotions into melodies.
We head to theory class—important, but a bit boring compared to the technical classes where we learn on actual instruments instead of from books. We both take our seats and begin to take notes once the class starts. I start to zone out and reality starts to blur out. I look outside the window and then I notice him.
Soft blonde hair, forest green eyes and I can see a beauty mark under his left eyes. "Whoa," I breathe under my breath, unable to look away from the boy by the window.He looks bored resting his face on the palm of his hand and gazing outside the window.
'His features look sculpted—carved very carefully,' I think to myself as I continue staring at him. And just as the thoughts continued rushing to my mind, his gaze met mine. And in an instance, I glance away hoping he didn't catch me staring at him. He sits two rows in front of me, so I don't think he caught me staring.
Class ends with half of my notebook empty. I wasn't paying attention. I gather my stuff ,shove it into my bag and head to the door. "Whoa wait for me" Samantha complains behind me as I rush out. I'm not sure why I'm nervous but I'm pretty sure our eyes met for the second time as the class ended.
"What's up with you?" Samantha asks as we walk down the hallway back to our dorm. "Nothing much. Slight headache. Plus, the class was hella boring," I answer, dodging the truth. She glances at me and hums. Pretty sure she did not take that answer seriously but whatever.
I open the door to our dorm and throw my bag at the side of my bed, sighing as I flop into the bed. 'This is my third time attending theory class, has he always been in this class?' I thought to myself as more thoughts began to form, swallowing me into an ocean of curiosity. "Get up, let's get ready—we're going to a concert!" Samantha says as she throws a dress on me. "What concert?" I ask as I pick up the dress which might as well be a night gown from how short and revealing it is. "Pitch Black are performing at the club tonight. I kinda like the drummer, and I wanna watch him live." she replies as she goes into her dress wardrobe.
I sigh and sit back on the bed, 'I have zero interest in attending anything that has to do with music now'.
Creative blocks are real, and they're exhausting. While I'm not driven by motivation but by determination, I still feel detached from music sometimes. Not sure why it happens but it does, and when it does, it takes me some time and emotions to re-connect with music again. Last time this happened, I couldn't feel the rhythm of anything I played on all instruments, I couldn't hear the right notes even though I was certain I was playing the correct notes. In that pit of darkness, I feel like I'm drowning in silence. Sometimes I find the light by watching a comfort show, or listening to a new song. Sometimes the light peeks through without me looking for it. So now, whenever I get blocked in my mind, I don't bother overthinking it and just go with the flow.
"Aria" Samantha calls pulling me away from my thoughts, i turn to face her and before I reject her invitation she leans and grabs my hand, "Please Aria, you know i enjoy your company the most, besides I don't want to go with anyone else but you" she pleads. I sigh and roll my eyes at her knowing that she'll keep pestering me the whole night to go with her, "Okay okay, but I get to pick my dress. Absolutely no night gowns!" I say as I gently push her to the side and make my way to my wardrobe. "What night gown?" She asks and I throw her dress back at her face as an answer to her question. She laughs and agrees as we both start to get ready for the night.
We enter the club and I immediately feel uncomfortable, Laser beams slice through the darkness. Bodies move in every direction. The air is thick with alcohol and sweat. Not sure if I'm sensory sensitive but these places never fail to overwhelm me every time.
"C'mon lets grab a drink" she says as she leads us to the bar. We sit on the bar stool and I can see her scanning the club, probably looking for her crush.
I take a sip from my drink and hiss as I feel the burn down my throat. I lean back and start to scan around as well, nothing catches my attention except for the big stage far in front of me.
I had my share of public performances and I'd be lying if I said I don't miss it. In fact, I love it. I love the thrill and nervousness I feel before performing, the slight shake of my fingers before I place them on the keys, the cheers and claps around me after I convert what is felt and to be said through notes and tones.
The sound of screams and cheers pulls me out of my thoughts. I turn toward the stage—and there he is again.
The blonde beauty.
Shining under the lights.