A/N: This is just a short one, didn't want too many songs continuously after each other. Enjoy the tiny chapter.


Marceline growled, slamming her hand down onto the keys of the piano. Her conversation with her ex had been constantly gnawing at the back of her mind, eating away at all the productivity she had. She'd considered texting him a few times to surrender, to tell him that she'd do it, to give up whatever dignity she had left just so he'd leave her alone.

She turned around on the stool, glancing up at the clock on the wall. Simon would probably want her home soon. Marceline then stood, stretching her arms and sighing in relief as her back cracked before strolling over to her guitar.

"There is nothing," She sang quietly, perching atop the empty teacher's desk, "For which I'm responsible." Clearing her throat then, because she loved this song and she hadn't spoken for a whole hour, she adjusted her fingers and strummed a C chord. "Just this baggage I keep carrying on," A pause, accompanied by a sniff. "As if I had someone."

"You're a really good singer," Came a soft voice. Marceline looked up to find her girlfriend in the doorway, smiling up at her. "What song was that?"

"Motion Sickness," She mumbled. "The intro's pretty easy though, I only have to play three chords. The first is a C chord, which is pretty easy, then an E chord, then two A majors at the end of each line." Bonnibel giggled and Marceline realized that she'd been rambling. "Sorry… you don't care."

"I care, of course I do. Just because I'm untalented doesn't mean I appreciate when someone else is. I enjoy it when you rant and stuff about music and bands, it's cute." That's not something Marceline would call herself, but this was Bonnibel and she didn't really care if she ruined her reputation.

"What… why are you here?" She asked softly.

"Simon wants you back in time for tea before the semi-finals so he can wish you good luck and whatnot." Marceline smirked as Bonnibel's hand waved around in the air next to her face, her cute face. Adorable. Then she noticed what she was wearing.

"Little black dress?" She asked cheekily, carefully placing her guitar down so she could slide off the desk. "Not that I'm complaining," She hastily muttered, seeing Bonnie scan her outfit. "Nope. Bot complaining at all."

Her girlfriend rolled her eyes and playfully slapped her upper arm. "Come on, Marcy, you need to get ready too."

"Alright, alright, let me get my guitar packed up, sheesh."