One Drunken Night

Chapter 30 (Battle of the Talents)

"Another song," I called over my shoulder.

Dylan sighed and lay down on his bed not before putting his guitar aside."That's the third song I played and you're not yet done answering?"

I gave him a pout. "I can concentrate more when you sing, please another song?" Truth is, I don't answer while he's singing. I stop and listen to his voice, the way the guitar plays and how his fingers can easily strum the chords. I get distracted every time he sings.

Dylan told me to answer my calculus homework and I can't get through the first question so when he asked me what will help me think, I said I can concentrate when he sings so he did.

He shook his head and placed his arm above his eyes. "I have been singing for ten minutes, it doesn't take you that long to finish your calculus homework."

I put down my pen and glared at him even though he can't see me. "Excuse me, but we're not all a super genius like you Dylan."

He chuckled but didn't bother looking at me. "Whoops, I forgot that I'm better than you."

I pushed the paper towards his direction. "You do my homework then." I challenged.

He lifted his arm and gave me a 'you've-got-to-be-kidding-me' look. He got up from the bed and scanned my paper. He grabbed the pen I placed down a while ago and hunched down over the paper. My eyes widened. "You're seriously going to answer that?"

He looked up and gave me a weird look. "Didn't you tell me to answer it?" He asked as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

I placed my hands on my hips. "So if I tell you to jump in an ocean of sharks you'll do it?"

He snorted. "Don't take me as someone that idiotic."

I grabbed the paper back from him and decided to answer it on my own. I heard him snicker behind me before he continued to fiddle with his guitar. Smart-ass, I thought as I scribbled down my answer. He always knows how to push my buttons.

After answering my homework, I crashed down on Dylan's bed and closed my eyes. I heard Dylan playing the guitar by the foot of the bed, making me wonder. "Dylan?" I called without opening my eyes.

He stopped playing. "Hmm?"

"What made you want to learn how to play the guitar?"

All I received was silence, I sat up to see if he was still there. He was adjusting the knobs of the guitar, his eyebrows were furrowed and he was biting his lip, which meant that he was in deep thought. After a long moment, he sighed and looked at me. "I don't know, when I had nothing to do, I would go lock myself in my room and listen to music. I love music, there's just something in music that makes it so hypnotizing and alluring. The way a singer sings the song with so much emotion in their voice makes someone really feel the song.

"When my parents were at work and Dalton was sleeping or reading, I would play songs and sing along to them. A song could hold many things in it, a feeling, an emotion or a story. Listening to music made me want to learn how to play instruments, unfortunately, I could only learn the guitar." He chuckled. "I wanted to know what singers feel every time they carry a tune, I wanted to feel the emotion in it. Many things could be said through one song, one song could tell the emotions of a person—a story in their heart. When I play songs, I always mean the songs, it's like confessing something, putting out the emotions you've been bottling up inside. I always sing songs and mean them, I like putting emotion into a song to make it sound more amazing." He grinned.

Maybe Dylan finds comfort in music, in playing his guitar and pouring out the lyrics. Songs mean a lot to him, he puts all of his emotions into a song. I internally shook my head, this Dylan is becoming more and more of a cheese-ball. What happened to the Dylan that used to call me clutz the first time we met?