Star by Eliza Witte - HTML preview

39

‘Oh, Stu, let me meet them tomorrow! Let it be tomorrow, please. They’ll be coming to the games, won’t they? Please, please, please, you’ll do it if you love me! I’ll show you how much I love you too then.’ However, she seemed to be nervous. Stu tried to calm her down and gave her a hug, ‘Dian, I really don’t know! But I do love you very much. Your eyes are so beautiful and they hold all the world there.’ But instead of pacified, Dian lost her temper.

‘What’s the matter with you now? You’re reciting poetry?’ she laughed.

‘No, nothing, I only think it’s just nice! The world is in your eyes.’ And at the moment he said that he knew what was going to follow. He could do nothing to prevent it. He only surrendered and slowly got his guitar, apologizing, ‘Dian, please, just a minute!’

‘What are you doing?’ Dian couldn’t believe her eyes, ‘Oh, no! You are not going to do this now!’

‘It'll take just a minute!’

‘Stuart, I AM here!’

‘Yes, I know but this is going to be a song for us.’

‘There'll be no 'us' if you don’t belong to me 100% and you know it only too well. What we’re talking about is really important,’ she was getting hysterical; ‘I’m not sharing you with this piece of junk.’ And she pointed at the guitar.

‘What's so wrong with getting inspired by you? You’ll ruin everything!’

‘You know you’re doing this for your own credit so don’t fool around with me,’ she hollered and then using his confusion she just charged like a young tigress from an ambush, ‘Look, boy, get to the real world! Inspiration, music – these things are just fiction nowadays. It doesn’t pay, you know. Your songs always come first. No wonder they mock at you like hell behind your back. It's only you who cares. Go and serenade your little fans from the freshman classes. I bet they’ll be impressed. For I, I also don’t care either. And to be honest, get someone else to be your inspiration! Coz I don’t really like this stupid role!’ Not giving him the chance to even react and with this said, she just turned on her heels and exited the door slamming it from the other side.

‘This is gonna be a very nice song,’ yelled Stu after her when he regained his senses.

He sat on the floor and held his guitar again, caressing its feminine curves for a moment.

To feel it in his hand was good. However, the inspiration was gone. He wondered for awhile why he didn’t stop Dian from going. Maybe she was right after all – inspiration was fiction but… what if she wasn’t? Who could tell? He searched his pockets and found a small silver box. He took the joint out of it and lighted it. Taking big puffs he got the guitar again. The evergreens had always made him feel well, together with the drug, of course,

‘Maybe, baby, you will love me some day,’ he sang quietly.