Nuriel is an eighteen-year-old senior in high school. Together with his friends Noah, Lucian and Caden, he has formed a band. He yearns for some change in his life, though he wouldn't know what; he gets what he wishes for when he meets Jerah, who turns his life upside down and makes his heart and brain contradict each other. Will he ever give in to what his feelings tell him, or will he allow his senses to deny them forever?

Sing For Me

"So, remember all important years and all names of important people and parties," I say as Jerah closes his book. I can't help him any more than that: his main problem is that he doesn't know how to connect the questions to the things he knows. 


He sighs, obviously not feeling like it. "Well, at least I've got a whole break to waste." He packs his bags and we walk out of the library. 


I expect the way home to be as quiet as always. He has his headphones on, I am daydreaming about nothing. It feels normal, comfortable. That is, until my companion decides to talk. "So, how are you gonna spend your break? Guess you'll be singing a lot?" 


A second passes before I can reply, my mind still processing the fact that he's willingly talking to me about nothing. "Uh, not really. We're not practicing next week, so I'll just relax. What about you?" 


"I'll be even busier than normal," he sighs. "Well, can't help it..." 


For some reason, I'm tempted to ask why. As if it concerns me. Why should I care? I suppress the need, and instead tell him "That's not good. You shouldn't overwork yourself. School is already stressful enough, you should use your break to calm down." 


He chuckles. It sounds more careless and genuine than any sound I've heard him make before. "Right. Thanks, mom," he answers sarcastically. 


It makes my face warm up a little. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be so intrusive." 


"I don't mind." The boy who is usually very quick to get annoyed, seems to be in a good mood suddenly. "Well, if you want to help me out, you can always sing a song for me." 


"That again?" I frown. "Just look up our band on the internet." 


"But it's not the same. Otherwise, people wouldn't go to concerts, either. You should know that," he argues. 


Luckily, we arrive at the point where we part ways before we can discuss it any further. "Text me when you know your grade, alright?" he says. I nod, hoping that I will never have to send that text, that my exam will disappear. Our casual conversation comes to an end as we say our goodbyes, a strange feeling still in my heart. 


Not even two minutes later, my phone pings. I can feel my heart drop. It can't be. There's no way our teacher already finished looking at our exams... right? 


With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I open our school's system app. One notification for the 'grades' tab. I take a deep breath, despite knowing that it won't change anything. As soon as my finger touches the screen, I regret it, my whole body feeling heavy. 


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