Above picture: James in the bathroom while brushing his teeth. I think this is super cute, don't you agree?

And I love the sweater he's wearing.

Shit, I am so .... Crazy.

This is supposed to be a funny chapter, so I hope you enjoy it!

Exams are blowing my head but then, here goes another chapter!

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             Sweat fell from my face as I ran along the deserted path. Jogging was one way to release stress, but this morning, it seemed more like running then jogging. I tried to forget about my mom, my aunt and a while lot of other pressure. My wrist still hurts from the cut the other day.

           As I made my way up the stairs to my apartment, I couldn't help but to think about Laura's bitchiness. I really do hope her mother does something about it, or else she'll be a bitch till the end of her life. All this time, I hadn't been careful, and I bumped straight into something.

           "Shit! Fuck, it hurts." I exclaimed while rubbing my sore head. Looking up, I saw a big guitar case and.... James?

          "Oh my god, Charlie! Are you okay?! Oh shit, I'm so sorry...."

         "What are you doing here?" I asked as I unlocked the doorknob and entered my house. I quickly put on a jacket over a sleeveless jogging shirt.

           "Um, we have to go to the music school thing tomorrow and I was thinking, you know... Do something or... Yeah....." He trailed off.

          "What do you mean by do something?"

          "You know.... Write a song or stuff.... Maybe?"

           "James, it's freaking nine in the morning."

           "And..... I haven't gotten breakfast yet."

            "Oh. So you came here for breakfast?"

            "No. I mean yes, but I mean, gee I don't really know."

           "Geez, you're even weirder than me. Just go wait in the living room, I'll fix you something."

            "Thanks Charles."

            Ignoring him, I went to the kitchen and started rummaging the cupboards and the fridge. I haven't been to the market lately and I'm running out of food. The only thing I had left was a box of cereal and some milk.

            "Do you eat cereal?" I ask James, who was busy typing into his phone on the couch.

            "Yeah, can't live without you."

            "Huh?"

            "Oh, I mean the cereal. "

            "Oh. Um, okay."

             I was a bit confused at his weirdness but nevertheless I went back to the kitchen and served two bowls of cereal and brought it to the living room. James had already taken out his guitar and was strumming something unfamiliar. His face lit up when he saw the bowls of cereal. I'm guessing that he sure does like cereal...

              "Thanks."

              "Sure."

              I walked towards the other side of the couch but being clumsy and careless, I tripped and fell.... With my face on his freaking guitar. Again.

           This time, my forehead did bleed and it hurt like hell.

             "Good god, are you okay?!'' James exclaimed as he got up and examined my bleeding head.

            "Shit, you're not okay at all..."

            "James, you shouldn't have brought your stupid guitar along... Ah, damn!"

            "I'm so sorry, um... You should go wash your forehead, it looks like Satan just pissed on you."

           "Gee, James. Thanks for the compliment. I'll gladly go wash my Satan pee stained forehead." I said sarcastically before going to my bathroom to clean my wound.

           Stepping into the bathroom, I felt like taking a shower. My whole body was covered in sweat from the run earlier and I felt so disgusting. Without hesitation, I let the cold freezing water wash over me.

            After about ten minutes, I walked out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around me. I locked my bedroom before opening my wardrobe. Taking out my usual clothes, I slipped them on before finding some betadine to apply on my forehead. I got angry when I found my cabinet empty. I seriously need to stock things up.

            "James, can you run down the street and get me a bottle of spirit, or alcohol maybe?" I ask James who was finishing his bowl of cereal.

           "Now what? You're drinking in the morning?!"

            "Idiot, Satan has literally pissed on my head. How am I supposed to make my wound heal?"

           "Oh, sorry. I'll be right back."

              Saying so, he dashed out of the house after picking up his wallet. I sat cross legged on the sofa, while eating my own bowl of cereal. I saw some papers scattered on the table, which I guessed was James's lyrics for his new songs. Curiosity hit me and I scooped up the papers and read them.

          His lyrics were emotional, many of them were about someone leaving or being alone. Although he seemed happy and cheeky on the outside, the lyrics didn't agree with them. Somehow I knew that there were big bruises on his heart, and it made me want to find out more.

            It was funny how I had just met him a few weeks ago, and now we're writing songs together. I barely knew him and he barely knew me. It was as if we were communicating through music, trying to tell each other our own stories. And I wanted to know his stories more. I wanted to know what was behind his Panama hat and his long hair.

            My thoughts were interrupted when James barged into the room with a bottle of spirit in his hands. He flopped down beside me and handed me the bottle.

            "This stuff is gonna hurt. Will you be okay?" He asked me.

            "It'll be fine. I do this all the time."

            I dabbed the cotton pad with some spirit and pressed it onto my forehead. Of course it hurt like hell, all my flesh felt like they were cooked in a pressure cooker. James scrunched his face while looking at me. Gosh, he's such a coward.

             "Oh my god. That is soo gonna hurt."

              "Yeah. Thanks to your guitar."

              "I'm sorry."

              "Stop apologizing"

              For a moment or two, the room was filled with silence. James didn't speak a thing and suddenly, I felt so guilty to blame him. And so, I started a conversation.

             "Who are those lyrics for?"

             James tensed for a little while before answering me.

             "Just no one."

             "Seriously? I don't think so."

             James didn't reply, and I guessed that this topic was touchy for him.

            "New semester starts tomorrow, eh?" I asked, changing the topic.

            "Yeah. Do you want me to pick you up?"

            "That'll be nice."

             "Okay then. I'll be here at eight in the morning."

              And that was the end of the conversation when James decided on writing some songs. We did music for the whole day and James left in the evening.

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A/N

Hi, sorry for the late update! I've been studying, that's why.

Hope you enjoy the story!

Bye!