Rejects // Punk Luke Hemmings

>Chapter Forty<

<Luke's POV>

I sat on my bedroom floor that night, plucking at the strings of my acoustic guitar. Melodies floated through my mind, but there were too many to pin down just one. I leaned my head back against my bed and groaned in frustration. This needs to be perfect... That was the thought running through my head as I just sat there.

Shaking my head, I stood up and walked over to my dresser. Pulling out the top drawer, I dug through some shirts to find what I was looking for; the half-empty box of cigarettes and a little lighter. Picking them up, I slid one cigarette from the box and replaced it among my shirts. Putting them both in my pocket, along with my phone and guitar pick, I grabbed my guitar and made for the courtyard.

Since the interior of the building had a strict no smoking policy, I had to go out there every once in a while when things got...difficult. Sometimes I just got stressed or worked up, and it's not like it's my fault. Had I never met certain people, I'd have never even considered smoking.

I'd gotten better about it though. Before, when I was still with Kelsey, I'd smoke at least once a day. I couldn't help it. She rubbed off on me, and I regret every second I spent in her toxic presence. Now I did it once every few weeks, every few months if things were going well.

Hitting the button for the elevator, I waited for a moment or two for the doors to slide open. I pressed the lobby level and leaned my head against the back wall, closing my eyes. The ride down only took about two minutes, but it was two minutes filled with blissful silence.

Soon, the doors slid open again, and there was someone standing there waiting to go up to their flat. I nodded to him and exited, then made my way to the door outside. As soon as it was closed behind me I knew I was alone in the space. Smiling to myself, I went and sat on my usual bench. I left the cigarette and lighter in my pocket for now, deciding I'd use them when I needed to.

I went back to trying to figure out the melody to the song I was trying to write. It was a special song, one that meant a lot to me... It was supposed to show how, no matter what, there's always a way out of a bad situation. There's always a way you can make it out alive.

And I was writing it for Kara.

Of course, I had already technically written 'Beside You' for her, as that was the name we'd come up with. But that was already partially written, I'd just attached the lyrics her.

With this one, I wanted it to mean something to her, to us. I'd already come up with many of the lyrics, and now I just had to figure out which lines to place where.

Suddenly a wave of inspiration washed over me and the chords I had strummed sounded perfect together. I experimented with a few more notes and patterns, and soon I had the chorus. It didn't take me long to find the chords for the verses after that, but something still seemed missing.

A band.

As I sat there wondering how to make this song perfect for Kara, I felt my mind fog up with stress and worry. Slowly, I reached into my pocket and retrieved the cigarette and lighter. Looking at the small stick in my fingers for a moment, I placed it between my lips and lit a flame on the lighter. Holding it near the end of the cigarette, I stopped to think.

Should I really do this to myself? What's the point anymore? I hardly ever smoke anymore, so how hard could it be to just stop? I mean, I had enough reason to since Kara seemed so uncomfortable and shaken by me doing it last time.... Maybe it was for the best.

Letting the flame go out, I let the unlit cigarette dangle from my mouth for a few long moments before I made up my mind. Placing my guitar gently on the bench beside me, I walked to the rubbish and took one final look at the lighter and cigarette before tossing them. Returning to the bench, I felt a wave of satisfaction and pride.