It's not that no one did mixtapes anymore. It's just that they were rare. Exceedingly rare. It was a romantic gesture nonetheless. Especially since the songs were so tailored to his tastes. It really showed that he knew him, at least musically. The mixtape wasn't just a nice mix of songs. It told a story.
Everything from the beginning.
Pause. Rewind. Replay.
The first few held an undercurrent of anger. Of dislike. Not hatred. Just intense dislike. Strong drumming, distorted guitars, and scream-weathered raspy voices singing about how they're just fine the way they are. Even if the tone suggests otherwise.
Then came the songs that reminded him of his friends. Songs wrapped in protection, love and a softness that can hardly be described. It made him feel like everything was going to be fine. The comfort of coming home.
Then comes anger again. It's of a different kind this time. Sharper, filled with pain and anguish. Rooted deeper, the kind that sinks its claws into you and holds you close, unwilling to let you go. But it also sings of love. Love so passionate, so loving, so fulfilling that it in turn becomes possessive and unwieldy. At one point it may have been beautiful. Now it just brings pain and hurt and bruises that need to be masked with makeup and an expert hand.
That's the hardest part to get through on the mixtape.
Love comes next. Love of the softer variety, though no longer the hurting passionate kind. The kind of songs that come in ballads, that can be heard when lovers come together to look at the stars on an impromptu adventure planned only moments before.
Listening to this part hurts- but it only hurts because he's never felt this kind of love before, not in this manner at least. It is painfully loving.
The last of the mixtape has songs singing of an uncertain future because the future is never set in stone. It is always fluid and there is never the guarantee that it will end perfectly, only that it will be.
The tape clicks as it hits the end.
Pause.
Rewind.
Replay.
a/n:
think of this as an interlude into the rewrite. this original fic has been officially abandoned. if anyone wants to take it over, please, be my guest. its been haunting me for ten years.
cant guarantee that it will be good, only that it will be. will it have anything in common with the original? probably not. and probably for the best. look forward to the rewrite- coming as soon as my depressed ass can crank it out. thanks for reading and sorry yall had to read the original. i was only 13.