6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

~ Heath ~

I checked my phone for the umpteenth time. It had been five days since I'd seen Tiff. And I wasn't checking my phone to see if she had randomly woken up in the middle of the night to text me. If there was anything I learned over the last five nights, it was that she was strict with herself. She ate right, didn't overindulge too much, and went to bed by a certain time.

No, the reason I was up was because of a stupid beat going around and around in my head. Well, that and a lyric. Not that it was a bad thing! It had been so long since I'd been inspired that I was wondering if getting up at 3:05 am and going to my piano was a good idea.

I had to chuckle to myself because there were plenty of times in the past that I would do that. So, why was I questioning it now?

With a mental shake, I threw my feet out of bed and grabbed a shirt, slipping it on. As a musician, the one thing you learn: when you get a tune stuck in your head, the only thing you can do is play it out. Thank goodness for not having closeneighbors.

I grabbed a bottle of water and made my way into my studio, taking a seat behind my piano. I loved my guitar, no doubt about it. But when it comes to writing, the easiest thing to write a song on is a piano. At least in my opinion.

I closed my eyes as I set my fingers on the keys, slowly going over the tune in my head. I wasn't known for writing or singing ballads. What rocker truly was? But oddly enough, the tune rolling around in my head was a slow one.

One that wouldn't go away.

One that talked about looking into a woman's eyes.

I took a deep breath, letting my fingers flow over the keys as I hummed along. In my mind's eye, I saw the notes floating over the pages, the words slowly swirling around them, creating a chorus that was unique and different.Much like the woman who somehow had gotten under my skin to help me envision this number.

What the hell was wrong with me? With that picture?

"You're up awfully early."

I jumped out of my skin and turned around to glare at the person who had walked in.

"What the fuck, man?" I asked, getting off the bench.I frowned, grabbing my phone, shocked to see that I had three missed calls from him and that it was pushing eight in the morning. There was no way I had been here that long. No way I was that lost in this piece.

"Well, when I couldn't get a hold of you to see if breakfast was a go, I thought I'd come to check on you. Because the only way you're not answering your phone is if you're in a zone."

"I was."

I watched as Kev nodded his head to the piano, knowing he was about to tell me something.

"Whatever you were working on was sounding good. Slower, though."

"It was.I don't have the words yet, but I think it would be a great piece for the upcoming album. A different outtake for the fans." Kev crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe; a brow raised in question. "What?"

"Album?Since when did you get the material for an album?"

"Since I don't know. I've been thinking about random beats for the last few days. I got slammed with this tune that would not leave this morning and had to come down and work on it."

"Heath, you've claimed for months, years actually, that nothing has inspired you.What the hell gives? All of a sudden, you got hit with a creative bolt or something?"

"Or something, man," I told him, clapping him on the shoulder. "Let me shower, and we can go do breakfast."

"Does this have anything to do with that woman you were kissing on at BeeAnns?"

I wanted to lie to Kev, but the asshole had been my friend since we were causing havoc in middle school. He would know my bullshit better than anyone.

"I don't know, exactly." I took a sip of my coffee, enjoying the flavored creamer. "I just know that I can't seem to work fast enough to get the tunes worked on and down. Like, they're all there, just floating around, and it's a little crazy. It's never been like this." I paused, took another sip, and tilted my head. "I would assume this craziness is what it must feel like in a writer's mind. All kinds of shit jumbled up and not being able to get to them fast enough."

Kev cracked up at me and leaned back in his seat, his eyes watching me carefully.

I couldn't blame him. This was all so fucking sudden. Wasn't I just bitching about the fact that I couldn't get anything? Nothing was coming to mind. And now, there's all of this. So much so that I couldn't sleep and was up before the damn sunrise to work?That was more like me in the early days of my career, not now.

"I like this," he told me, waving his hand at me. I cocked a brow in question. "This creative drive. The urge to write, to play, to sing, to create. It felt like you lost your passion for the one that grounded you after all the shit with your ex. Even before you all broke down.

"She dragged you down a road that none of us could stop. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't you. You lost the love for your music. And man, in all my years, I've never seen that. I was really worried about you. But this fool before me, this is the kid I remember seeing in high school.Notebook and pen in one hand, while the other drummed on the table."

"Shit," I mumbled, but I laughed right along with the man sitting across from me.Because there was a lot of truth in his statement. I lost my creative juices long before I called the relationship off. And it was like he sucked every piece of passion away.

And now it was back. Dying to claw its way out. Demanding to be set free. I just didn't have enough hands to get it all done like I wanted. Not that it was a hardship, because it wasn't. I was loving it. I just couldn't help but be curious as to the reason why. Whether it was because I got rid of the fake trash or if it was because something quite possibly had walked into my life.