~Lilly~

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! I hit the top button to stop my annoying alarm from beeping. I grabbed my phone and glanced at the time and date. I immediately sprung up.

"Today's the day!" I thought out loud. Today was the family reunion, and I couldn't wait! I hadn't seen a big portion of my family in a long time, but the only person I cared about seeing was my older brother, Dylan. I was so excited to see him! About five years ago, he formed a band called We The People with his friend from high school, Noah Mills.

We The People was a pop-rock duo that came around in 2015. Dylan played drums and Noah played guitar, piano—when it was necessary—and sang. In the studio, Dylan also played bass, but they used recordings for when they played concerts. Before they had even started the band, Dylan had constantly teased me about me having a crush on Noah. I have to admit, I did always find Noah sort of cute, but in a "he's friends with my brother and only thinks of me as the annoying little sister, no way in hell will that ever happen" kind of way.

Well...

That's not entirely true. Something happened with us when we were younger, but I've only told a few people. By a few people... I mean one person. It probably didn't matter to Noah that much, but it kind of mattered to me. Not that that fact bothered me in anyway. It was perfectly understandable.

I also have to admit that Noah had gotten considerably more attractive at 19 than he was at 14. Even so that I might even deem him as hot, but, then again, that's what pretty much every girl who was into the alt-rock genre would say. He was what the media would call a "Teen Heartthrob". He was basically the Harry Styles of the pop-rock community. I had known Noah since I was 12, since him and Dylan had met in freshman year. We had never really become friends, just the occasional "Hi" whenever he was at my house to hang out with my brother. I hadn't seen Noah in a few months, though. The last time I saw him was back in January, right before they embarked upon their very first world tour. It really was a world tour, they hit 5 out of the seven continents. They only just got back from Australia last week, and it was August.

More recently, I had started to almost look up to Noah—just a little bit. He was an amazing singer-songwriter. While he and Dylan co-wrote the songs, he still had such a way with words that he could make you feel his pain or happiness or whatever emotion he was trying to convey, even if you had never experienced something like that yourself. I remember, a couple years back, it was my freshman year, so Dylan and Noah were sophomores. There was this school wide poetry contest. Noah's mom along with my own—as Noah's mom and her were very good friends—had convinced him to enter one of his songs, just without music. He almost won, but he came in second, only because the principal's daughter was also entered in the competition.

Their very first single, "Cliché Love Story" went big. It rocketed up the charts in record time from the day it was released. Everyone loved it. Including me, but I was a little biased. Ever since they made it big, though, I barely ever get to see Dylan. Not that fame has changed him in anyway, he's just busy. Sure, we both live in LA, and we've both been to each other's apartments a couple of times, but it's a big city, and he's pretty much always doing something—either recording, writing, doing interviews, whatever. So, this day was definitely worth waiting for.

Side-note: yes, I'm 17 and I have my own apartment. I share it with my best friend, Gabbie—more on her later. She was still a senior but I skipped sixth grade, so I graduated a year earlier. Since I skipped the grade, I was moved into the high classes for that grade, while Gabbie was in the Honors classes the grade lower than me, so we still had a lot of the same classes. She had the same opportunity as me, but her parents just didn't want her skipping a grade so that she could stay with her twin brother, Tommy. Gabbie and I have both started babysitting at 12 and got officials jobs as soon as we turned 14, still babysitting on the side. We had been saving up for the past 5 years and—with a tiny bit of help from each of our parents—we were finally able to get our own cheap, small apartment. But it was ours!

I glanced at my phone one more time. It was 9:00 AM, Saturday, August 18th. I got out of bed, took a quick shower, did my light brown hair into a high ponytail, and brushed my teeth. I picked out my outfit: a pair of denim shorts, a grey long-sleeved, cold-shoulder top, and a pair of red converse. I threw on a little bit of makeup. I grabbed my phone and earbuds and headed downstairs. As I was on the stairs, I glanced at the time again, 9:45.

Nice! I thought to myself, Only 45 minutes!

As I walked into the kitchen, I saw my mom and dad sitting next to each other at the dinner table, both enjoying cups of coffee. My dad was reading the newspaper, while my mom was reading the latest book for her book club.

"Good morning!" I greet, cheerily.

"Morning, Lillian," Dad said, looking up from his paper, as I sat down on a chair opposite them.

"Good morning, Sweetie!" Mom added, also looking up from her book. "I see someone has a pep in their step," she said, smiling.

"Well, I'm excited! I haven't seen most of the family in a while!" I smiled.

"C'mon, Lilly, we all know who you're excited to see," she said.

"What?" I smirked, getting up. "I'm gonna make myself a bowl of cereal and go sit outside." There was really no point in telling them, as that was what I did and had done every morning for as long as I had lived there. I made myself a bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats—my favorite since childhood—and took it outside, sat at the outdoor dining table, and relaxed, listening to the waterfall in the pool. As I'm eating, I heard my phone buzz against the metal table. I pick it up and see Dylan's name on the screen.

Dylan ~ Hey! Can't wait for today! Haven't seen you in forever!

Lilly ~ Same! I miss u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dylan ~ Same! Hey, did Mom or Dad tell you what time I should be over there?

Lilly ~ They said around 12-ish.

Dylan ~ K, thx. Cya then!!

Lilly ~ Cya!!

I couldn't wait!

~~~

After I finished my cereal, I brought my bowl and spoon back inside. Mom and Dad had left the table. I wasn't entirely sure where they went, but it was probably just to get ready, something like that. I put the bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and headed back up to my room. I glanced at the time again and saw that it was 10:30. Still an hour and a half till everyone got here. I decided to listen to some music. I connected my phone to the portable Bluetooth speaker I had brought with me and started playing music. I didn't worry about the volume since my walls were practically soundproof unless you were right up against the door. I put on my "Favorite Songs" playlist on shuffle. Every now and then I started dancing around my room a little and singing loudly since no one could hear me, not really paying attention to how much time had past. Then, the next song that played had a lot of memories that came with it. A steady drum beat and a catchy bass riff started to play started playing. Dylan and I would listen to this on repeat, just jamming out. This song gave me such a wave of nostalgia every time I listened to it. And I loved it.

Then, the unmistakable voice of Patrick Stump sang:

She said she no good
With words but I'm worse

I started jumping around my room, dancing and singing like I used to do when I was a kid.

Weighed down with words
Too over dramatic
Tonight it's "it can't get much worse"
Versus "No one should ever feel like"

Suddenly, just as the chorus was about to start, my door burst open. Dylan started singing and dancing with the chorus.

Dance, dance
We're falling apart to half time

Meanwhile, I stood frozen on the spot, mouth agape. After a few seconds of comprehension, I jumped into his arms.

"Dylan!" I shouted.

"Lilly!" He hugged me tightly. I couldn't believe he was actually here. I knew he was coming, but I couldn't believe I was actually standing here, hugging him. Though we texted almost every day, I missed talking to him face to face so much. "How have you been?"

"I've been fine, but you have to tell me about yourself, Mister-" I start.

"Brightside." Dylan cut in. Almost as if on cue, Mr. Brightside by The Killers started playing. We both shot our heads to look at the speaker, then looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"How did you do that?!" I exclaimed.

"I... I don't know!" he answered, looking absolutely terrified.

Still chuckling, I walked over and grabbed my phone, pausing the music.

"Anyway," I said, still smiling, "I was going to say, how have you been Mister I-play-drums-for-my-sister's-favorite-band-and-don't-love-her-enough-to-get-her-tickets!" I joke, playfully hitting him on the arm. I sit down on the edge of the bed.

"First, you know I love you, you little brat," he playfully hit me back, "and, it's been fun," he answered, sitting down next to me. I pause, waiting for him to go on but he doesn't.

"That's it?" I ask.

"What?" He answers.

"That's all you have to say?" I say. "'It's been fun'? C'mon there has to be something!"

"Not really, we're all pretty much just a couple of best friends who play music together." He says.

"Well, yeah! But sold-out concerts at Madison Square Garden!" I exclaim. "Okay, at least tell me this: what's your favorite song to play?" I ask, not being able to think of any other interesting question.

"I don't really have one," he admits.

"Ugh, you're so boring!" I flop back onto the comforter. I was always the more dramatic one between the two of us.

"I'm sorry," he chuckled at me being so dramatic. "Well, has anything interesting happened to you?"

"Nope!" I sigh. "Still working at The Coffeehouse, still singing for tips, still singing at Club Aqua every Saturday with Gabbie, with my old guitar from when I was 12, hoping to get noticed."

"Oh, that reminds me, I got you something!" He exclaimed. He ran out of my room and down the stairs. I followed him out.

"You didn't have to get me anything! My birthday isn't for six months!" I say.

"Well," he said handing me an obnoxiously big, very cumbersome present, "happy half-birthday!"

"But I didn't get you anything!" I say, trying to hand it back to him.

"Yes, you did!" He insists. "You know how my birthday is just a couple months after you?" He asks.

"Yeah, and?"

"You know how every single year, Grandma would always give you $50 and said 'Spend it how you like'? How every single year, you would save that money until my birthday to personally buy me a gift, while I only got you whatever Mom and Dad picked out?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, consider this your personalized present from me."

"Aw, thank you!" I set the box down and give him a hug.

"No problem. Now open it!"

"Okay!" I pick it up and carry it over to the counter. I have trouble getting it on the counter since it was so big and such an odd shape. "Why is it obnoxiously big?"

"Just open it and you'll find out!" He insists.

"Okay, fine!" I tear open the wrapping paper and see that it's a guitar. It was a Fender acoustic-electric. It was obviously new since it's glossy finish was untouched.

"Oh my god," I say. "It's beautiful! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I wrapped him in a hug again.

"You're welcome, you're welcome, you're welcome!" he answered.

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{Posted on 4/23/19}