Rosy-Cheeked Boy | Jachary | Book Two

Three

Jack

Lace has always said that Paris was beautiful, and that I should visit if my ears ever begin to heal, but the way that it has been going, I will never visit the city. That was until Lace had brought something home, proposing that I should finally get a chance to see new people.

"Take these." She would say. "They are ear plugs. Put them in, and they block out most of the sound." She instructed me on how to put them in, and then handed me a list and some money on what to buy.

"But Lace," I started. "There is more money than needed here. Way more." She gave me a smile and a hug.

"Treat yourself. You deserve it. You have been working so hard here and haven't got to see anyone other than me or do anything other than help the farm or read." She pushed it back to me. "It is yours to spend on anything."

And there I was. Roaming the streets of the city, my ears plugged and hands in my jean's pockets. I didn't know what most of these stores were, I just peered inside and saw clothing or games, or many sort of things. But there was one shop that made me stop, and that was a music shop on the main street. I didn't recall playing one, but when I walked in and went up to a piano it was inevetable.

I kept messing around, figuring out what instruments I played and which ones I haven't. I picked up a misshapened hollow box with strings, a guitar, and strummed it. Suddenly, I started playing an unknown song, and as soon as I had finished, I heard faint clapping off to the side. I looked over to a girl that had blonde hair with red tips smile and start talking. I gave her a confused look and stood, setting the guitar down on it's stand before moving my curls to show my green ear plugs.

She gave a wondering look but came over, smiling as she stood next to me. As she spoke, she spoke loud and clear so I could hear it. "That was amazing." She said and I blushed a little. All of a sudden, I thought of a face that was blushing, but I couldn't make out the features.

I shook it off and answered with, "Thank you." She smiled at me softly before looking at the guitar.

"You want it? The guitar?" She said, grabbing it. She overturns it and I notice the price, and my eyes widened.

"That is way out of my price range," my French accented voice said. "I only have a hundred and fifty..."

She gave me a grin. "It is on me." She picked it up with the stand. "I'm Korina, by the way. But you can call me Kori." She lead me to the desk that held an older man. He smiled to me before eyeing the guitar.

"Ooh," he grabbed it from Kori. "It is a beauty. Kori here made it herself. Isn't that right, darling?" She nodded and a small blush filled her cheeks.

"Uh, Papa," she whispered to her father and he gave me a grin. He reached over the desk and shook my hand, giving me the guitar.

"Son," he said with a smile. "I have a proposition. How about you take this guitar, practice for a few days to get unrusted, and then stop by and play for people?"

--

The air was calm, and the farm was quiet. Like usual, Maxwell had ran off and the cows and chickens were frolicking in the grass that surrounded the houses and barns. I sat on the steps to the house and my guitar laid next to me. I sighed and picked up the instrument, playing a small tune.

When I came home that night, I asked Lace about it and she agreed to let me do it, and I felt glee. I would be getting off the farm more than once; it would be over four times a week. I smiled at the thought and turned when I heard the door open. Lace gave me a small smile before saying, "Ready to go?" I nodded before grabbing my ear plugs from my pocket, putting them in my ears before we head off to town.

--
Jonah

Minnesota was as cold as ever even though it was only fall. I didn't really mind it, but when you spend months on end in LA, it is hard to get used to the coldness again.

I was here with the other boys. We were still making music, just not as much, and it still didn't feel the same. It wasn't "Why Don't We" without the full set, but we were managing. I couldn't believe he was actually gone.

We had a funeral, but we didn't bury anything because his body was burined in the fire. It was hard to see Zach hurt, expecially after everything that had happened. He loved Jack so much, I don't think he will ever be able to love again. Jack was his soulmate, but apparently he wasn't meant to stay in this world anymore.

Zach had stopped talking to most of us. He had blacked out most of everything, and he wasn't Zach anymore. There were times where he wouldn't sleep at night and would cry, and I or one of the others would go comfort him. I didn't understand why Jack had to go.

He left us all in pieces. And it is not fair.

We needed him, and he left.

Zach needed him and he left.

I glanced at Zach as he stared at his feet, his hands rubbing against eachother out of pain and worry. He has been hurting so much.

I started not trusting planes. I don't want another delema like Jack's. Cars were our best friends. Just like Jack was.

We weren't complete anymore.

--

Hi. Bye. How does it feel to hate me? I mean, get yourself a cup of Jonah and some Corbyn cookies. And don't forget about the WoOd chips. (You don't understand the wood one. Rip.)

Word Count: 1031