Ginger's expression slowly shifts as she takes in the news. Her soft eyebrows pull together and become rigid. Her eyes glazed over has her thoughts swarm her head. I wait patiently for a response.
Suddenly, Ginger's emerald eyes snap up and meet mine.
"Do you not have... a muse?" she questions lightly, her eyes floating down to her fidgeting fingers. I take one step closer, and let my fingers glide down her arms to her hand. she looks up with only her eyes.
"No. I definitely have a muse, but I think that might be the issue," Ginger raises a questioning brow, "I have so many emotions, so much I want to say, but no words to use. I can't possibly begin to describe what I feel right now."
Ginger stands up straighter, after a moment of concentration, and a smile stretches across her soft, pale skin.
"I'll help you!" she smiles happily and grabs me hand, "I'm not an expert at writing songs, but I could help you get started"
I smile widely at her. As I nod in agreement, we walk hand in hand to my mom's car.
We walk into Greyson's room thirty minutes later. A small piano is tucked securely into one corner, and the walls are covered in vinyl records.
"So," I jump onto his bed dramatically, "Let's get started. How does song writing normally happen?"
"I like to start with the piano and add lyrics on to that. I have this," his hands float over the keys and tap a soft beat, "for the verses, and for the chorus I was thinking something close to.." His hands, again, lift above the keys. The notes are quicker and harder, but underneath it there is a softness very similar to the verses.
"It sounds really.. beautiful so far," I say reassuringly.
"I'd hope, since that is the only thing I've written in monthes," Greyson muttered, "I have all these feelings in my head. I can see the words, but whenever I try to pull them out or write it down, they are gone."
He is still facing the piano, away from me. Greyson's back is hunched over him, head down, shoulders slumped. I climb off the bed, walk up behind him, and place my hands on his shoulders. My hands run down his arms to his elbows.
"Come on," whisper gently next to him, "You can do it."
Greyson sits a little straighter, leaning his lower back into me, but his head is still down. I sigh.
"Greyson, perk up. Please," I lean over him, place my chin on his shoulder, and wrap my arms around his torso. I gently kiss his neck a couple times. He doesn't react much
I walk around the piano bench, sit next to him, and pull my legs up into his lap.
"What is the point in this?" Greyson mumbles, not making eye contact.
"Not sure," I reply honestly, "Maybe some inspiration."
I lean my head against his chest, right below his shouler, and wrap my arms around his waist. I glance up through my eyelashes, Greyson is looking forward, not paying any attention to me. I take one of his hands into mine, and look at his fingers, slightly playing with them. his other arm wraps around my back. I look up again and find that he is looking down at our intertwined fingers.
"Greyson...." I whisper.
"Hold on... " his eyes still glazed over in the direction of our hands and mumbles, "hands intertwined... Hands sewn together... Hands..."
He continues to mumble to himself for a while. Every moment the skin between his eyebrows wrinkles more and more in concentration.
I lean my head back onto his shoulder, and close my eyes. I absentmindly start humming a random tune. I really hope Greyson is able to figure out his song dilema.
"Where did you hear that tune from?" Greyson says, refering to my humming. I shrug, keeping my head on his shoulder and eyes closed.
"Just made it up," I smile.
"Mind if I use it?" He asks. I shake my head, not caring.
"She's the ginger to my snap, and her emerald eyes make me a sap," he sings lightly. I sit up and look into his eyes.
"Those lyrics suck," I laugh.
"I know," he says beaming, "but that's more than I've written in a month!"
"Well, in that case they are great."
We sit around his piano and throw out incredibly rediculous and cheesy lyrics until finally we've wrote the worst song in the world, but we wrote a song. That's what matters.
This is the last thing to be published on this story as far as I can see. I apologize to all of the fan you really wanted to see the ending. I just lost faith in the story I created and gave up on the end I had in mind.
I can tell you that Ginger and Greyson are great for eachother and I intented for them to go through the struggle of Greyson being unsigned. That's all I know for the ending. I'm sorry.
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Something in the Way She Moves (Greyson Chance Fan Fiction)Fanfiction
Fan Fiction: Ginger Harding is just your average girl. Simple as that. Her dad has been striving to get a huge promotion to Oklahoma for years now. She never thought much about it, she didn't even know where in Oklahoma it was at, but one night when...