Blues and Yellows

Hood Heartbreak

"So what was in your head when I said I liked you?"

"...Confusion..."

~

All at once. Angel stood there when I turned around, a smirk on his face I've never seen so wide before as he held his mahogany guitar. The blaze in his eyes. The smirk on his face. The realization I had that I desperately wished wasn't true. His friends were all in as they stood on the side as they cheered their man on while I stood paralyzed. Angel winked at me as he tuned his guitar one last time, the sun gradually sinking lower and lower in between us he did.

His instrument lacked strings of two, its wood covered in dust and soot. Angel's guitar was as old as time, and I knew his song would be as old as rhyme, but I couldn't blink back my tears fast enough to mask my mortified state. For god's sake—he was wearing a Camisa De Chino, the red scarf snug around his collar. Its fabric was as dusty as his guitar, but I still hated that he put in such effort. The red rays hid well his outfit's blemishes whilst amplifying the flush on his face.

Complimenting his guitar was his brown skin as he softly began strumming. Maroon unyieldingly passed through the fields, kind of like the pain that hit me right then. My knees grew weaker and weaker, my feet trembling at what I saw before me. "What...?" I simply asked, smiling to hide the fear I felt within. Was laughing a step too far to hide my fright? Angel's friends coughed roughly to clear their voices as best as they could, and before I could choke up, they'd begun singing. 

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blue jacket, paper crane
with you i'd love to play guitar and waste my days
i never thought i'd say (kinda gay bro!)
i'd fallen for your calm yet oceanic waves

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His friends swayed to his melody, his guitar only able to play its rusted bass-like strings. Angel proudly sang his serenade as the others chimed in to poke fun as part of the whole performance. This had to be an elaborate joke on me, right? Why was he doing this? Why for me? Why couldn't I move? I felt the air slowly getting sucked out of my lungs, my chest aching as my head grew lighter. Why? Why? Why? Angel single strummed his cheesy pre-chorus as he looked at me coyly.

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"wanted to be, not to be wanted," you said
but what if to be means to be wrapped up in my arms instead?

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I-vi-V. I-vi-V. How the progression in 4/4 time never changed, but it felt comforting rather than monotonous. How the key of G paired well with Angel's cigarette-tainted voice. How such feeling only left me more hurt since I knew I couldn't reciprocate his expression of love unless I forced myself. Was this how it felt to suddenly have a romantic offer fall on your lap? Angel transitioned into the chorus as his friends joined to awfully but comedically harmonize his melody.

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so what if the water comes and puts out the fire in me?
so what if the world looks down on who we were born to be?
so what if they lock us up make us pray till dusk i don't give a fuck neither should you love
so what? so what if the rose sings

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"Small-town motherfucker," I said inside my head over and over as I failed to hold off my tears. Why did he have to know me so well whilst also not knowing I didn't want this for us? The things my past versions of myself would do to have someone fall in love with me and sing a song for me like in the movies, but never did I want my closest friend—my bloodless brother—to do this for me. I wondered how much worse or better it would've been if I didn't arrive at all.