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kane | atalanta
I watch Kane in silence as he listens to the song, nodding along with it.
"But this song doesn't require a piano." It's a statement, not a question.
I nod. "I agree, it requires a guitar and another singer."
Kane raises an eyebrow, "I can play the guitar. But where exactly will we get another singer from?"
"Mr Lykos said you can sing well."
"No."
"Oh, come on!"
"No."
"But you don't even know what I'm going to say!"
He crosses his arms and kicks a random bottle cap across the floor. "You were going to say that I should sing with you."
I raise my hands in defeat, "fine, I was going to say that. But please, there's no one else and I really love this song."
He groans in frustration and grips his hair.
"Fine." I hear his muffled voice say, making me squeal and jump in excitment.
We are so going to win this talent show.
❁
"So should we start practising?" I ask, glancing over at Kane. He's fiddling around with a guitar that he picked up from the music room at school.
He just shrugs and nods, testing out the guitar.
I stare at him for a few seconds before smiling and shaking my head. I don't know why, don't ask.
"You know the lyrics, right?"
He nods again, clearing his throat softly. "Okay, let's begin."
He begins playing the guitar and I grin at the continuous familiar tune.
I look down as I begin singing, closing my eyes,
"He knows Dirty secrets that I keep Does he know it's killing me? He knows, he knows D-d-does he know Another's hands have touched my skin I won't tell him where I've been He knows, he knows, he knows"
It's his turn to sing.
All of a sudden the guitar stops.
I look up and see Kane clutching his guitar tightly and shaking his head furiously.
"I can't. I can't do this."
Then he runs out the room.
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