Word Count: 1004
"Ugh!" you exclaimed as you crumpled up another piece of sheet music and threw it in the trash bin. You were in the process of writing a song that was supposed to be fun, but soon realized you were brain dead. You just couldn't find the right notes or beat for this song.
You were currently in your bedroom, sitting on your bed with your ukulele resting on your lap in great frustration. You picked up your phone and texted your wonderful boyfriend, Tom and asked him to meet you in your garden of inspiration. After a short period of time, he responded saying he would be there as soon as possible. You grabbed your writing satchel and other necessities(like pants) and headed out. You made your way into the familiar streets of downtown London to your favourite place; a local coffee shop by the name of The Jazzy Teacup.
Once you safely arrived and got your regular order and regular seat, you heard the familiar chime of a door and were greeted by a more familiar (and handsome) face. You breathed in the jazz music and aromatic coffee and hugged Tom as he approached you.
"Hello darling," he said."What writing troubles do you need my help with today?"
You explained to him how you were trying to write a fun, light song, but were failing miserably. And how you had been brain dead in your flat and decided to come to your garden of inspiration to hopefully be able to finish it. He listened carefully and when you were done, he thought for a moment before answering. He then instructed you to pull out a pen and music score paper. You did so; carefully listening to his instructions.
"What instrument are you playing it on?" he asked.
"Uke," you replied.
"What've you got so far?" he asked.
"Just this." You pulled out your phone and played the audio clip of what you had come up with so far.
"Sounds good. What do you think you'll call it?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa mister. I've barely got a chorus, never mind a title for this song. But maybe you can be the other singer."
"Y/N, you're nuts. I sound like a dying cow when I sing."
"Thomas Stanley Holland," As you said his full name his eyes widened. "Don't you dare give me that bullshit. You were in Billy Elliot for seven years. You just think you're bad, but you're not. It took me a long time too before I got over my fear of singing. Besides, your voice has changed since then. You don't sound like a dying cow... Anymore."
"I'll think about it. But that doesn't mean yes."
~~~~~~Time Skip~~~~~~
After a satisfying home-cooked meal at the Holland's, Tom and you were just chilling in his room listening to some Mumford and Sons on his bed. He was cuddling Tessa and you were on your laptop scrolling through your feed on Tumblr. Post after post you scrolled, when all of a sudden, an idea formed into your head and you knew exactly how you needed to finish your song.
"Tom," you nudged him. "Tom!"
"Yeah, what you need love?" he asked groggily.
"Get Sam's ukulele quick before this idea leaves my head," you said as you reached for your writing satchel and pulled your progress. You started scribbling down the chords as fast as you could while Tom ran to get Sam's uke. Chord after chord you wrote and it was soon finished.
"We did it!" you exclaimed.
"No love, you did it," Tom said grinning.
"No we did it, you know why?" he shook his head. "Because you're gonna sing it with me. Come on, you know you want to."
Tom groaned but then agreed. You told him which lyrics to sing and you secretly filmed it.
"Do you want to go first? Cause I'm happy to wait. I practised really hard, but I'm finding it strange to start with you." Tom sings. You smile and sing the next verse.
So how does it go? I've forgotten the tune, I haven't warmed up today. So I might sound a bit strange, yes I do.
Cause I
Can
Sing
I
Swear it's true. I'm just a little nervous in front of you.
So who's on the third? I think I'm better at mel-o-dy. Oh, I'm going to get it wrong, shall we try another song... No? Okay.
Let's just go for a take. And see how we sound, my heart is beating fast. Oh, vocal chords please last! Here we go...
Cause I
Can
Sing
I
Swear it's true, I'm just a little nervous in front of you.
Aroo-doo-do-to
Aroo-doo-do-to
Aroo-doo-do-to
Aroo-doo-do-to
Ahhhahhhahhhhahahah
Hahhhhahhhh
La-da-da-da-ta
Hah-ah-ah-ah
Oooooooooooooo
Haaah-ahhhh
Hey, we sound good.
Yeah, we sound good.
Yeah, we sound good.
We sound so good.
Yeah, we sound good.
La-da-da-da-da, da-da-da-da..
Da, da, da, da, da.
We sound so good.
We sound so.
Yeah, we sound so good.
Yeaaah ooooooooooooh.
Na, na, na, na, na, na.
Ooooooooooooooo.
Da, da, da, da, da, daaaaaaa.
Yeah, we sound good.
Yeah, yeah, na, na, na, na, oooooh.
Yeaaaaah.
Yeah, we sound good.
We sound so, sound so good.
Yeaaaaaaaah.
Yeah, na, na, na, naaa.
I think I messed up. I just wanted to improvise. Shall we try another day?
Well, I think I sounded great, so...
Cause I
Can
Sing
I
Swear it's true. I'm just a little nervous in front of you.
You strummed the ending riffs and turn your head to Tom with a ginormous grin on your face. His face is red and he seems a little out of breath, but his smile was so big you were filled with joy.
"WE DID IT!" you exclaimed, as you started to bounce up and down on his bed. You set the ukulele down and stopped recording the video.
"WAIT, YOU RECORDED IT?!" Tom shouted as you ran out of his room.
"JUST REMEMBER YOU LOVE ME!" you shout back as you hear running footsteps behind you.