Disclaimer: I do not own this song, this movie, or anything else you might think of
Update Notice: Because of someone pointing out that the actual lyrics of this song are not allowed in the fic I took them out, but still felt the spirit of the short story matched the song so all you have to do is look up the song while reading this and I'm sure you'll get the gist of it.
Keep on Dreaming
The old man used to turn on the radio before he started, to drown out my screaming I suppose. I never listened to the words much, just the music itself, anything but what was going on around me.
All sorts of genres played, I don't think he payed much attention to what he flicked on. All I know is that, even back then music was my escape. My way out.
I learned to play while wondering the streets and coming across those corner guys. If I helped them out with there act they'd give me a small percentage of what ever was in the guitar case. It wasn't until Evelyn that I got my own.
Despite the girly jokes my new found brothers would make about my music, I knew that this meant something to me. That music was and always will be my release.
Even after I found a home and a family, I still needed my escape. The local bar knew me by name even before I hit eighteen, and that was where my first gig was. Where I finally had proof that I was doing the right thing.
Of course not everything's perfect. We had good days and bad days. We had just made a deal with the local radio to start playing some of our songs when I got the news about Ma.
I had never wanted to leave home, but that was where the music had taken me, now I was back to the place where my music had truly become a part of me.
After we had discovered the true reasoning behind our mothers death, I had fully planned on going back to my band, a song already forming in my head, the rhythm tapping out during our whole trip. A title whispering in my mind, Never Ma.
Looking back I don't regret the decision of going home, even at the cost. Maybe I never would have made it, maybe this was how it was supposed to be. My music saved my life, and it would end with me.
I smiled as Bobby pulled my old guitar out from under my old bed, he strummed a few strings, made a face and then replaced it where I'd last left it. I knew the music would never die.