Back Home (A Larry Stylinson Beautiful Love Story)

Chapter 8 - I want to write you a song

I was looking at the different kinds of musical instruments and still struggling what to use for this Day 1 song writing session. Ever since I retired from the music industry, I took my time learning in playing musical instruments which I kind of loved and enjoyed it.

I decided to grab the acoustic guitar from its stand and strummed it, creating a sound that gave me different vibe, a cool vibe, which was unusual for me. I smiled. I went to the couch making myself comfortable to start this song writing process.
I took a deep breath and rubbed my palms together.

What to write Tommo? Think! Think! Think!

I closed my eyes once again. I could see the 21-year old Harry with his green mesmerizing eyes looking at me. I could see his captivating smile with his perfect white teeth and the dimples appeared both of his cheeks. I could feel his hands softly rubbing my shoulders, a relaxing sensation that only him, could do that to me. I could smell his long curly hair tickling my neck as he was hugging me tightly. I could hear his giggle and laugh, an infectious feeling that I, myself, couldn’t help but laughed as well. Then when he started opening his mouth to speak, ‘Hello my dearest angel… I love you, Lou Bear!’ It felt like a music to my ears. It was a blissful feeling… a contentment… I feel like HOME.

I already noticed the humming of some random tone coming from my lips. I tried to play it in guitar and make the tune out of it which I liked it. Then, I grabbed the green notebook, proceeded to a blank page and wrote what I thought that time, what I wanted to say to Harry, what I felt for him and that he was, is and will be my HOME.
And for just an hour, I couldn’t believe I wrote the entire song, with the genuine lyrics, beautiful melody and it sounded perfectly. I paused and dropped my guitar and pen on the floor. My jaw just dropped. I covered it with my hands and shook my head in disbelief. Ever since, he was always my inspiration in writing.

I stood up and started walking out of the music room. I needed some air. I went to the kitchen to get a glass of water, but then I saw Freddie eating his favourite carbonara at the kitchen island table. I smiled at him.
“I did it.” Told him in a softer voice, still in awe.
“Did what, Dad?” He asked confusingly.
“The song.”
“What song?”
“Home.”
“Daddy! What is wrong with you? You are so weird!”
“Yeah, I know! Daddy can be weird sometimes. But Fred, I wrote a song!”
“Really?! I am so happy for you. Dad! I’m so proud of you!”
“Thanks, sunshine! I can’t believe I made it! I did it, sunshine! Yes! Yeah!” I said excitedly and rushed to him to hug and lift him up, started turning around, until I felt dizzy. So, we both fell on the floor, me first and Freddie was on top of me. “Ouch, my back hurts!”
“That’s the consequence of you from interrupting my eating!”
“Oh, really?!” I asked raising my eyebrows.
“Hahaha! I was just kidding, you know that Daddy!”
“Oh yeah?! Are you sure? Because my way of interrupting you from eating… is this!” And I started tickling him. He laughed and scream on top of his voice.
“Daddy! Stop it! Hahahah!” His face was so red and I noticed he was already tired so, I stopped and kissed him on the forehead. We were sitting criss-cross, facing each other. He was still smiling and giggling though.
“I love you, son.”
“And I love you, too, Dad! I am so happy because you are also happy. And I’m very proud of you. I am your number one fan, remember?!”
“Yeah! And thank you for just listening to me. Thank you for hearing me out, my heart-aches. I know you are still young and you don’t know everything in this world, but you tried your best to understand me and my situation.”
“Because I don’t want you to be sad.”
I smiled at him and asked, “You know I am not like the other fathers out there, right? Because I’m different.”
“I know!” He smiled at me. “I know you’re gay. And I still love you for being who you are!”
I smiled back at him and held his shoulder, gently stroking it. “And I feel very sorry for not loving your mother and not giving you a perfect family that every child wishes for.”
“Dad, I may be eleven years old, but I’m using my brain. And I’m too keen and sensitive with my surroundings. And I completely understand you and mom’s situation. I know you don’t love her, because you love someone else.” Raising his eyebrows up and down three times. He was like me when he did it.
“What’s that all about?”
“Because it’s Uncle Harry!”
“And who told you to call him, Uncle Harry? You don’t even if meet that man in person?”
“And what should I call him? Papa?”
I blushed. “Freddie Reign Tomlinson! Finish your food and start revising!”
And I walked out, living him laughing out loud. Maybe, this was already my karma for being so sassy to everyone back in the days. I shook my head in disbelief and realized myself smiling.

That night, I spent my entire evening in the music room working on the other new songs. I didn’t know, but everything was just popping out of my thoughts. I was really overwhelmed with this song writing process. It felt so light, so free from what I have in stored in my heart, these deepest and heavy feelings that I have carried all throughout the years.
Liam was right.
And me being me, I noticed that the guitars were on the floor, scratched papers and music sheets everywhere, scattered candy and chocolate wrappers and beer bottles. In short, the music room was in mess. But, I was happy. I felt relieved. I would definitely write songs again and again.