write you a love song (sienna)

[JAMIE SHOEMAKER]

Writing new songs was usually cake for Jamie--oh cake sounded good right then-- but today it seemed to be tough. He didn’t fret--pun intended-- though. Jamie had a fool proof plan for busting that writers block in the butt. Lucky him, it was even warm and sunny today! He skipped down the hall of his dorm and waved to a few people before leaving. Everything was going pretty good for him at the moment. Well, he thought so. He had a daughter that actually liked him, two best friends and a band that rocked. What more could Jamie ask for? Nothing! That’s what.

He arrived at the nice little shady part of the quad lawn--shady like covered not like crooks-- and plopped down in the grass. He pulled his guitar from the bag he carried and strummed her softly to check the tuning. Little Miss Muse was her name and Jamie never wrote a song without her. While fixing her tuning, Jamie wiggled his toes in the slightly damp grass. His shoes having fallen of sometime before. Halfway done with tuning, he plucked a blade of grass out of the ground and put it between his thumbs and blew the makeshift whistle. It was amusing but he tossed it aside remembering he had work to do.

Focus, focus, focus, Jamie! He strummed a few chords and sighed. He couldn’t think of what to focus on though. Jamie wasn’t really given any specifics on what to write this time. It could be anything he wanted. Like what he was doing right now... Jamie strummed again. He was just sitting... sitting...

“Sit-sittin’ on the dock of the bay, watch the tide go away! Sittin’ on the doc of the bay, wastin’ tiiiime, oh, wastin’ time,” he sang, his fingers finding the chords easily. He sang a little bit more until it got to the whistling part. He couldn’t whistle to save his life so instead, Jamie whipped out his harmonica and played the whistling part that way. As he finished, Jamie laughed . Obviously that was a song already written so he couldn’t do that one. What to write? what to write? Jamie had finally focused but it also made him not notice anyone trying to say hi. Luckily Pinocchio noticed “A REDHEAD THAT’S NOT JOEY OR ARIEL” and got Jamie to look up and grin. He waved to the girl. “Hey you! What’s your name?” he asked, never being on to be shy.

[SIENNA PORTER]

Having only ever lived in two places her entire life, Sienna didn’t have a lot of expectations for the weather; especially when both her hometown and current city had similar patterns and seasons. Sure, she loved sunshine like everybody else. Maybe someday she’d move to Nevada or Arizona or Florida, but for now she was pleased as punch with New York City’s variety. She felt like they got just enough sunny days and just enough rain and enough snow during the winter and the leaves still changed colors. No complaining here. If anything, it helped her to sort out her plans. Clear days were obviously reserved for outings to shops and parks while rainy ones were saved for a bubble bath and movies while snuggled in bed. She had it all figured out.

Today was one of her going-out-looking-cuter-than-usual days. Wearing a rather inspirational shirt, she planned on smiling at every stranger and striking up conversations and complimenting as many people as she could. She was going to make sure everybody who interacted with her was going to end up feeling a little better than they did before. But first, she had to visit Shiloh. It was their monthly movie day (something she’d been trying to make weekly since forever) and they had some serious catching up to do. If Sienna had known, however, that she’d be waved down by a cute guitar playing college boy, she would have cleared her schedule. She’d heard the strumming and whatever sound it was a harmonica made, but she hadn’t pinpointed the music.

Until cute guitar playing college boy called out to her. He was super adorable with kind of all over the place hair, his feet bare, and his arms covered in tattoos. Tattoos, she thought, inwardly squealing. She whipped out her phone and sent a gonna be late to Shiloh before making her way over. “Sienna,

” she answered, playing cool as best she could. Figuring he meant to invite her over, she sat across from him, not caring if the damp grass might stain her shorts. “What’s yours?[/color]” She tried to come up with some nickname going off of all his ink, but she was overwhelmed already. What did they all mean, how badly did they hurt, how much did it cost him, what was he going to get next??

She took the next minute to admire his guitar, wondering how his fingers must’ve looked as they plucked the strings, and she let her eyes roam from there, landing on each visible tattoo and finally making eye contact again, silently cursing when she realized the color. Hazel was second on her list (blue taking first) of ‘favorite eye colors on a guy’ and just… how dare he be so attractive! So rude.

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