The entire time I was at the fashion show, words kept rolling through my head. One after another, they all sped through my mind, connected by a light melody and a single word.
Sitting still in a chair while various models sashayed down the catwalk was nearly torturous. My fingers twitched and my leg bounced impatiently as I yearned for my guitar and a piece of paper.
My eyes kept flicking to check the time, anxious for the moment I could get up and leave.
"Sit still, dammit," my manager growled out in a harsh whisper from beside me.
I forced my leg to stop bouncing and sat back in my chair. Looking up at the catwalk, I was just in time to see Katrina Amor herself sauntering towards the end. She was wearing what could only be described as a bedazzled potato sack, but then again, I never really understood fashion.
Upon reaching the end of the walk, she paused, turned her whole body towards my seat, and very theatrically blew me a kiss. I smiled as the cameras flashed between us and pretended to catch it and put it in my pocket.
Ugh. That was so cheesy I wanted to kill myself.
As she walked away again, words continued to pour into my thoughts, and before I knew it, my leg was bouncing again.
Thankfully, the show was over shortly after that, and after posing for a few photos with my "girlfriend" and making a quick stop at my manager's office, I practically bolted out to where Harry was waiting in the car.
"Let's go home," I said breathlessly as I slammed the car door shut and buckled up.
The ride home was a blur, and I spent the whole time humming to myself, afraid I might lose the melody if it took too long.
"Thanks, Harry," I called to him as soon as we stopped before I rushed out of the car and up to my building. Luckily there were no reporters today, which was always good.
The second I stepped foot in my apartment, I headed for my music room. Dominik was long gone, but that was okay. I'd see him again soon.
For now, I had work to do.
As I sat down with a notebook, pen, and guitar, I started to write.
×××
I didn't leave my apartment for the whole of the next day. In fact, I barely remembered to eat as I scribbled out and rearranged parts of the song.
The combination of gently plucked guitar strings and a sweeping melody sent goosebumps across my skin. The message that laid beneath the words however, had me lost in my own little world.
I fell asleep in my music room that night, my guitar still in my lap, and it was only the thought that I'd be seeing Dominik again in the morning that made my body jolt awake on its own.
Checking the time as the morning light bathed the room in gold told me I only had an hour before he arrived. I quickly showered and ate, and as my leg bounced impatiently yet again, I decided to leave my front door open a crack for him before returning to my guitar to add in some finishing touches to the song.
Pressing the tips of my fingers against the strings, I closed my eyes and started to sing.
"I'm not quite sure when I lost control,
But life has turned out to be so cruel.
I hide myself behind a wall of stone,
And from that empty void, I saw you."
Taking a deep breath, I started the chorus.
"So Gravity, Gravity,
Please hold me down.
You give me my voice,
When I can't make a sound.
Gravity, Gravity,
Please keep me close.
Because you're the one,
I love the most.
Oh Gravity."
As I held out the note, I let my fingers add in a few flourishes over the strings. I found myself singing another verse, so mesmerized by the smooth transitions of notes, I forgot I was the one playing.
I opened my mouth to sing the chorus again, but the melody was stolen from my lips...
By the sweet airy tone of a violin.
I blinked and turned my head to find Dominik, in all his leather jacket and windswept haired glory standing with his eyes closed and his violin tucked under his chin.
I watched in awe, my fingers barely remembering to continue the chords as Dom coaxed his own version of the melody from his strings. After a few moments, he let the melody bleed into something else. It was a beautiful and entrancing dance that led him higher and higher up the strings, each note reaching for an impossibly higher pitch, and as he reached the peak, I found myself falling into the bridge.
"Because I'm falling fast,
And I'm falling hard.
And I hope I'll fly,
Before I fall too far."
We effortlessly made our way to the final chorus, and with each line, I strummed the chord once and let it ring out into the room.
"Gravity, Gravity,
Please hold me down.
If you give me your love,
I won't let you down.
Gravity, Gravity,
Stay with me.
I want you to be my,
Gravity."
As the sound of the last chord gently died out, it was as if some kind of trance was lifted. I looked up to see Dominik lowering his violin. He looked thoughtful as his icy blue eyes flicked up to meet mine.
"It's beautiful," he said, and though his voice held a neutral tone, I could see in his eyes that something plagued him. "I'm glad you found something to inspire you."
I shook my head a little and set my guitar to the side. Standing up, I said, "Not something. Someone."
Dominik gave me a small, sad smile as he looked down at his violin.
"I'm sure Katrina will love it," he commented as I took a step closer.
"What?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"Katrina Amor?" he clarified, looking up a bit but still not meeting my eyes. "It's about her, isn't it?"
I chuckled lightly and shook my head.
"It's not about Katrina," I said, stepping even closer. The action, or perhaps the words, made Dom's magnificent blue eyes return to mine. In a bout of boldness I was unlikely to come across again, I looked straight into the eyes of Dominik Darling and told him, "It's about you."
I didn't know what I was expecting, but what happened next made my stomach feel as though it was weighed down by a thousand stones.
"Oh," he said flatly. His face changed into something unreadable as he looked away from me.
I took a step backwards, giving him space as my mood deflated. Had I read him wrong? Was a drunk kiss nothing more than a drunk kiss?
God, he was probably straight.
Wordlessly, I returned to my seat on the couch, my back to him, and picked up my guitar.
I played a gentle tune to fill the dead, awkward air. I couldn't bring myself to look back at him as he packed up his violin.
"I, uh-" he said, and I could practically feel the discomfort in the air.
Go on, say it. I'm not gay.
Clearing his throat, he tried again, "I forgot I have somewhere to be. Is it okay if I go?"
"Yeah," I said in as neutral of a tone as I could muster. "Yeah, that's fine."
"Thank you. I'm sorry," he said before I heard his footsteps receding. Every light tap was like another dagger to my heart.
I'm sorry.