{ sounds.of.the.heart : : Feat. Edana [Four]

[∂αмєη]

G R A H A M x L U C A S x H A V E N

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My shoes screeched against the clean surface in the Justice Building. They must've just been cleaned. Cleaning products aren't rare in District 1, but it's always nice to see I'm welcomed by my own reflection. My guitar hangs loosely around my neck by a felt loop, causing friction with each step I make. My neck is already irritated by the contact of the fabric, constantly moving back and forth. I never come here without my guitar though. The meetings are often really boring, filled with nonsense finance discussions that nobody actually wants to listen to. Most go for the jelly filled donuts. I go because there are plenty of open, empty rooms just begging to be used. And my guitar is just begging to be played.

With my intense training schedule and my long hours at work, I never have the time to play a few chords. It justs sits in my room, collecting dust. But once a month, I get a whole room to myself, usually never bothered by anybody. I make my way over to the small janitorial closet that has been abandoned since my first visit here. Pushing the door open, the smell of bleach and chlorine fills my lungs. That's just great. My fingers strum across the chords, producing a smooth note.

The last time I played in one of the rooms, somebody had passed by, swinging the door open and staring at me in shock. It would be a funny sight, to see a Career looking teenage boy playing a guitar and singing softly. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up. It's my only way to calm down, my only way to express myself when I'm not throwing weights around or slamming a hammer down on some metal. The person just stood there too as if he expected me to play some more. I responded with dropping the guitar to the ground and pushing him up against the wall. "Say anything about this and you won't be having your eyes anymore." I wouldn't actually do anything to his eyes because well, I'm not a sick creep. But the message must've been relayed because he bolted off down the halls, even slipping on the floor on his way.

The halls were empty enough today that I felt comfortable enough. My mother would be gone all day in the meeting room while my father was either working or scavenging the pastries. The music echoes through the room, probably through the halls too, but what do I care. Once I've begun, it's not likely I'd stop until I have to leave or until some stupid kid comes bounding through the door in search of the sound. But was that what I wanted?

[W O R D S] 449
[S O N G S] Lucky - Glee Cast
[N O T E S] First post ever for Graham, so sorry it's shorter.

[Nofo]

Not often would you find me walking up the front steps of the Justice Building, mainly because there are more places to fall, and it’s in public. Over the years, I’ve perfected the art of being virtually invisible, and its fine with me, too bad it’s only in my bedroom. A girl in my position, it’s easy to feel out of place in the world. If my life was a movie, I’d be a supporting character, and it suits me just fine. I know I may act like I’m perfect, but really, I wish I was that woman you read about in magazines, the woman in her house alone with fifteen cats. Too bad I’ve never been a cat person.

I normally wouldn’t be here right now, especially not in the middle of broad daylight, but it’s for York. I mean, it’s for the project. Yeah, I wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for the project, go school! Sure, it’s for York, he may be an egotist, but he’s cool, and I know there’s someone deep down inside him that I’d like to know. I don’t know how I’d get that out of him, but I’d like to. Sure, the last time we were alone, he thought I was a retard, but that’s fine. No, it’s not fine; I’m not that kind of girl with that three strikes kind of thing. With me, it’s you mess with me and you’re gone. On a serious note, I just wanted to get out of the house. My mom has been on my case since I told her that my mesh was scratched up, and I know that if I ignore her long enough, she’ll give into getting a better one.

I love my grandparents, they’re the whole reason I have the opportunities I do, not that I know what they did to get wherever they are. Mom isn’t big on talking about her parents, but I suspect that we’re in the same boat, she doesn’t know either. All I know is that they’re with some government agency, not that I really care about anything, I just think it’s weird that I know nothing about my grandparents at sixteen years old. Yeah, I see them every weekend, but they don’t like me asking questions, well it’s more that they do the asking of questions.

I stare up at the building in front of me, it’s huge, and I’ve been here a couple of times with my mom, but never alone. It’s a little intimidating and a daunting task for me. I can barely get up the steps in my skinny jeans; it’s so hard when my prosthetic joints are forced together in these, which is why I always wear dressed. My mom needs to get me a loser model, maybe even a robotic limb? If there are newer models, my grandparents would let me have it in a heartbeat, but my mom would never allow me to ask if she knew what I was doing. I think my mom is afraid that they’d disinherit us, which would be impossible, considering that the Lightwoods aren’t poor in the slightest.

Before I realize where I am, I’m in a hallway somewhere in the building. Somehow, I’ve happened upon a source of sound, music. Music, the only love I’ve ever known, the pillow that swallows my tears, the friend to love and protect me, the father I never knew. I’m drawn to the source of sound, but I resist the urge to push the door open. Whoever it is didn’t want anyone watching, or the door wouldn’t be closed. Still, they’re very good with their guitar, and it’s a tune I recognize. I can’t put my finger on the word, but I must recognize it from somewhere. I take a deep breath; tap my fingers against the door lightly three times, letting the person know that they’re being observed.

[∂αмєη]

G R A H A M x L U C A S x H A V E N

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The room plays with the sounds as the song continues on. Echoing against the walls that just a few seconds ago seemed less packed together, the tune continues, seeming to overlap with a sweet melody. I check my watch quickly, noting the time. The watch is something I could probably always be found in. It's colored a bright white, the actual clock part a dark grey and the hands a sky blue. Blue and grey are probably my favourite colors. Growing up, I was always a fan of learning about the water and the oceans beyond District 1. The few ponds we have scattered through the District were my favourite places to go. And therefore my first swim was a very important part of my life. Even the shorts I wore are remembered today. Grey shorts with black designs on them. They were always the coolest, says my friends at least.

My parents were never a fan of my obsessive swimming habits. 'Graham Lucas Haven, get your ass out of that pool. We are not those District 4 drunkards.' My father used to always point his crooked finger, showing his bright teeth in a snarl. It was funny because we always worked with District 4's while in the Games. I made it my job and goal to ally with one if I was a tribute. My final rebellion against my father in the hardest times I'd probably have to face. I'd just keep swimming. The water was my childhood version of music. My life, in some way. But my parents don't even know about the music.

Knock. Knock. Knock. My heart jumps, making my body move up from shock. The guitar shakes in my hands, smashing against the wall. I hear the breaking of wood and hope to everything above that it is not from my guitar. I don't even want to look so I send my hand to the bottom of my treasured possession. Then it feels as if my heart just stops beating. The gap at the bottom welcomes my hand completely. My other hand goes towards the door knob, pulling it back. It scrapes on the guitar's front, but what does that matter. It's ruined already.

And maybe whatever is up above felt pity for me and tried to apologize with what stands before me. A girl, around my age is looking towards where the door was, which happens to be my guitar's location. Yup, you did this. I mutter, rubbing my eyes to keep any emotion from coming. I can't do that though, not after I was just caught with music. "Can I help you?" I ask, my eyes travelling across her beautiful face, memorizing each detail. I think I've seen her once before in one of my classes. Edana? She was the one my friend crushed on for so long. I always told him that she was way out of his league and still to this day it appears the same thing is occurring. I open my mouth to say something else, to seem more friendly, but nothing comes out. Shit Graham. I gently lick my lips, getting rid of the dryness. "How much of that did you hear?" I ask, removing the guitar from around my neck. I know she can see the hole now. It was right in front of her. Great, now I'm some ghetto kid with a crap guitar?

"I'm uh...Graham. Graham Haven." Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Suddenly the memories I have of Edana come flooding into my mind. Sorry, not really flooding. More like dripping. I think I've said one thing to her ever and it was probably about Charles's crush. She had a prosthetic leg or something. A lot of my sport's team members would always call her cripple girl or other things like that behind her back. I would always try and tell them to stop. I don't know if they ever called her that to her face. I sure as hell hope not. I look into her eyes, trying to remember more of this girl. The one that knocked on the door to my private room. The one that just had me ruin my guitar. I don't know if I should be happy of absoloutley devastated. Sure, I just lost my guitar but I was also allowed to see her again. Now maybe I'd have an actual female friend who doesn't just want to spend the night. Nobody would want to be with the music singing kid with the guitar right? Right?

[W O R D S] 750
[S O N G S] It's My Life/Confessions - Glee Males
[N O T E S] (: The post doesn't flow as much but I forced him to get a lot more words for you. (: