5 Days of Summer

By Zeen_Zoned

344 88 45

Novie Ember is a ticking time bomb, and after she blew up she was forced to go to her father's town for a bre... More

5 Days Of Summer
Chapter 1: Sunday
Chapter 2: Sunday
Chapter 3: Monday
Chapter 4: Monday
Chapter 5: Monday
Chapter 6: Monday
Chapter 7: Tuesday
Chapter 8: Tuesday
Chapter 9: Tuesday
Chapter 10: Tuesday
Chapter 11: Tuesday
Chapter 12: Tuesday
Chapter 13: Wednesday
Chapter 14: Wednesday
Chapter 15: Wednesday
Chapter 16: Wednesday
Chapter 17: Wednesday
Chapter 18: Wednesday
Chapter 19: Wednesday
Chapter 21: Thursday
Chapter 22: Thursday
Chapter 23: Thursday
Chapter 24: Friday
Chapter 25: Friday
Chapter 26: Friday
Chapter 27: Friday
Chapter 28: Friday
Chapter 29: Friday
Epilogue
Author's Note

Chapter 20: Thursday

17 3 1
By Zeen_Zoned

I woke up, feeling nothing; I'm not in a bad mood or in a good mood. I just feel apathetic.

I finally stood up after losing in a staring contest with the ceiling. It was white, just like what I'm feeling. I sigh in front of the vanity mirror. There will be days where you just feel like you don't know why you're acting like this; days where you're sick and tired of living the same life over and over again.

I start walking and open the door, revealing Michelle with her fist raised in mid-air. I look at her with disinterest. She hung her head low and fidgets with her fingers.

"Uhmm, Uncle Jefferson asked me to call you for breakfast," her voice was so low the only word I hear is 'breakfast'. She was about to walk away when I stopped her. She looks at me with questioning eyes as if saying "is there anything else you need?"

"Your ribbon –," I point at her ribbon, fixing it for her, "it was crooked," I left her there, dumbfounded. I, too, am surprised by my sudden action, and then a thought suddenly crossed my mind.

Prayers are always answered, sometimes in an unexpected way. I guess mine was answered, I just couldn't accept it.

~▪︎~

With my dad's guitar, I struggled to find a place where people does not exist. I just want to be alone just for a few hours. The shed's out of the choices, so does the music room — although Justin gave me his key, I still feel like I'm intruding, after all I'm still an outsider who happens to be their temporary vocalist.

I let out a sigh of relief when I finally found a place behind an abandoned classroom. The lawn looks like it was well maintained. I check the area if there are insect creeping around, so far there's none. I sit on the grass, lean back on the wall, and take out the guitar out of its case.

With my index finger placed on the third fret of the B string, and my ring finger placed on the fifth fret of the D string, I started playing Greenday's "Wake Me Up When September Ends". The song reminds me of my dad. He was such a fan of Greenday to the point that he printed some of their lyrics on my shirt when I was a kid. He was trying to learn how to print designs on a t-shirt, so as practice he used some of our plain t-shirts. I even cried back then because he also used my one and only pink shirt — mom scolded him and bribed me just to stop me from crying. 

Back then whenever I go outside wearing those shirts, some of his students would ask me if I'm his daughter or if I know him because of the designs. I'd be lying if I'll say that I didn't held my head high while confirming their hypothesis.

I felt a tear from my left eye, causing me to stop. I wipe it away and let out a long sigh. Those days will never return; the only way to visit them is by reminiscing, but even doing so is already a torture. The only way to keep you happy is to free yourself from it.

"That song's already sad to begin with, and you even made it more disconsolate by the way you play it," I look up to see Ivaun sitting on one of the sturdy branches of the tree. How long has he been up there? How come I didn't notice?

"Aren't you supposed to be in class?" I made my voice a little louder so he can hear. He jumps off from the tree — thank goodness, my neck's aching from looking up — making me jolt along with the "thud".

"The subject's quite boring," he shrugs, "oh and the teacher too," he sits beside me and looks ahead. So much for a model student.

"What were you doing up there?" I ask him, pointing at the tree.

"Sleeping," he casually says and faces me. "So what are you doing here? No sane person would come here, they say this place is haunted."

Ah, public schools and their dark haunting cemetery past.

"I just wanted to be far away from people right now," I place my chin on top of the guitar's waist, my right hand swinging slowly like a zombie. "Does that mean you're not sane?"

He chuckled and looks up at the cloud-filled sky. The firmament is too bright because of the cirrus clouds, reflecting the light from the sun, blinding me momentarily.

"I'm perfectly sane, they're not," he says. "I guess I'll be thankful for those urban legends, I can have this area all by myself."

Wow! I really shouldn't judge a book by its cover. All along I thought Ivaun was the silent type and monosyllabic kind of person, but I got it all wrong. Who knew this guy can be as talkative as Keith? He has also this aura that would make anyone he talks to be comfortable with him.

I let him borrow the guitar and started playing a song I'm not even familiar with. He's good! Now that I think about it, is it really a requirement for a member of a band to be good at at least two instruments? Or is it just my idealistic perception talking?

The sound of him playing resonated at the empty field. For a moment the music almost made me want to lie down on this grassy field and cast away all my worries — that's what I came here for, right? To forget and escape reality for awhile?

He stops playing, and as a bewildered audience I gave him a round of applause. He seems to snap back to reality when I clapped.

"You're awesome!" I shriek like a little girl who just witnessed someone making balloon animals. "What's the title of the song?" I might download it later.

"Thanks, the title's Andante by Sungha Jung," he says, his hand behind his neck and his ears cherry red. I asked him if he's a fan of Sungha Jung too, but he only shook his head with a boyish smile and a crinkly nose. "My girlfriend is," the way he said it is filled with love, let's add the fact that he has this dreamy gaze as he stares into nothing.

"How come I never see her with you?" I asked, I never see him with any girl, even during our gig yesterday there was no girl who claimed to be his girlfriend.

"She doesn't study here," he said. I nodded in understanding, but the gig, where was she? "She couldn't come yesterday since she got a little busy with the drum corps and her studies," it's like he read my mind because he gave me an answer.

"So tell me about your girl," I said, I feel like a nosy bitch, but I really want to hear every person's love story.

Ivaun obliged and started talking about her. They were classmates when they were in elementary, during those times he already had a crush on her — who wouldn't? According to him, she was such a sweet girl, smart and talented, a little bit boyish, but duh who cares! But Ivaun being himself, he couldn't bring to tell her so he endured just watching from afar whenever the girl's got practice with the marching band.

"So how did you end up together?" I ask him. Did he mustered enough courage to confess?

"She confessed," he lets out an amused laugh and hung his head low, unable to hide his smile. I left there dumbfounded.

It was when they were in 7th grade, they both took different schools; him in Alejo and her at St. Augustin High School. Ivaun coincidentally was in the same place where the marching band of St. Augustin were practicing. While he was fiddling with his guitar she approached him, almost tripping because her giddy friends were pushing her. With face as red as a strawberry, she handed him a letter.

"After that, I started courting her for three months before we became a couple. I heard she's a fan of Sungha Jung so I tried to learn one of his songs and played it for her, earning her "yes""

The guy's love struck, and I can't help myself but feel giddy. Someday, at the right time, a guy would look at me like that. The girl better not hurt this guy or else she'll have an album all dedicated to her.

"So why did you choose to play drums?" I ask him, he's good at playing the guitar and as I observed AWE doesn't have any rhythm guitarist.

"If I'm a cool person, I'd say "why not?"" he air quoted the last part. "But since I'm not... here's my answer, Justin's much better than me when it comes to playing guitar,"

"Woah! I sense a hint of self-pity in your response," I joked — jokes are half meant.

"Self-pity's a bitch ain't it?" he cussed. I know it's normal — I mean no normal person doesn't curse, but I'm still clinging into the Model Student Award idea.

"I'll agree with that," I laugh. Among my cousins, I'm the only one who has a broken family. I always cried to my mom about that, hoping that both of them would come to their senses and get back together, but as I grew up I realized those two wil never ever get back together. My mom's prideful and my dad can be egoistic sometimes.

"But you know, self-pity will just pull you down. It's a bit of an ankle biter," he shrugs. "If you want to be good at something stop focusing on others and focus more on yourself. We have different paces and lives. As they say, life's fair because it's unfair... to everyone,"

"Well, thanks for the pep talk though," I say, he snorts then scoff like I said something wrong.

"Thank me when you've finally applied what I said. I just gave you an advice, but if you didn't listen or won't apply it, what's the use of your gratitude?" he stands up and hands me back the guitar. He glances at his watch before looking at me. "The only person who can change yourself is you, so if you choose to either listen to us or not, we're not held liable for the aftermath. Anyways, I gotta go," and with that, he was gone.

I sigh and close my eyes, he's got a point though. When life gives you lemons, you either make a lemon juice or find an apple to make an apple juice. Humans like to make the simplest of things complicated.

•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•○•°•

While I was writing this chapter, listened to Sungha Jung's playlist entitled "Andante". You can listen to it in Youtube if you want.

Anyways don't forget to vote and leave a comment.

Sincerely L♡ving,
Zeen

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