Yesterday I told Karen about my name. I'm glad I did since I hate my first name and can't stand being called it anymore.

Today I'm helping Carl with his pigs since his Dad is needed elsewhere.

I was slightly surprised the prior evening when Carl approached me, hands in his pockets and his head aimed towards the floor, asking my shoes if I wanted to help him on the farm. I think he was even more surprised when I said yes.

"You'll have to wake up early," Carl had told me with a sceptical face, his eyes aimed at my sleeves by that point. I'd snorted at him, a little insulted that he thought I couldn't get up early.

I overslept.

The look on Carl's face was irritating me as I hop down the gravel path towards the pigsty, trying desperately to fit a shoe to my foot.

"Morning early bird," Carl chuckles as I reach the edge of the pen, leaning against it as I catch my breath.

"Shut up," I wheeze at him, flipping him the bird when he rolls his eyes.

"Mornin'" A much deeper voice came from behind a wall of the sty, Rick's eyes narrowing at me as he peaks his head around the corner and sees my gesture.

I pull my hand down awkwardly as Carl giggles at me, my face glowing.

"Um, morning Rick... I thought you were busy."

"I was, earlier. All done now."

I stand there, blankly.

"Can I still help?"

But Rick has already placed a pair of surprisingly white headphones into his ears, not hearing me as he starts towards the crops growing across the far corner of the fenced field.

Carl shakes his head in amusement, handing me a bucket of rotten fruit and pulled weeds.

"Give this to violet," he tells me.

"Violet?"

Carl points to the biggest pig, currently rolling in thick mud to hide from the Georgia heat.

"The pig's called violet?"

"Yeah..."

"Cool."


After finishing our chores, Carl and I head towards the prison's music room, which, when Carl tells me about, he practically has to hold me back from running towards it immediately.

"Slow down!" Carl calls after me as I burst through a set of doubles doors, passing the library with haste. "You don't know where you're going!"

Carl starts sprinting after me when I break into a run, laughing as we race through the corridors, dodging past people and narrowly avoiding the swinging of doors as the other barges through them. I apologise to a man when I crash past him, sending a basket of washing flying as he shouts after us with his fist waving furiously.

We finally arrive at the music room, collapsing outside the door in an exhausted pile of laughter and abundant panting.

"How are you so good at running?" I ask Carl, gasping for air between each word.

"Practice," he puffed in response, wiping the hair stuck to his forehead so he can see me. "Shall we?"

"Yes!"

"You might wanna hold up on the excitement... It's not that-"

"Don't ruin this for me!"

I shush him. Holding out my hand before opening the door, Carl hesitates a moment before taking it, pushing the door open with me as we step inside.

The room is filled with dust and gloom.

Light peaking through a drawn curtain reveals a huge grand piano in the room's centre. I drop Carls hand as I hop over to open the curtains, and he laughs at my enthusiasm.

Light rays spill into the room, exposing every inch to us, the results slightly disappointing.

"I warned you," Carl put his hands into his pockets, hopping on top of the piano as he watches me search the room desperately.

I find an out of tune violin under the piano, a grimy clarinet in a broom cupboard, and a rotting cello leaning against a damp wall.

"Shit," I drop my shoulders in defeat.

"What were you looking for?"

I slump onto the floor, leaning against the piano, Carl's boot occasionally tapping my shoulder as he swings his hanging legs back and forth.

"A guitar," I sigh, slapping his foot away when it catches my ear.

"Beth was upset too. Told me she would have taken piano lessons if she knew the world was going to end."

"I can play the piano," I correct his assumption while dodging his foot, this time as it narrowly misses my head.

"Why were you looking for a guitar, then?"

"It's the only thing I enjoy playing..."

"How comes?"

I shrug, "It just is."

"Why don't you like the name Noah?" Carl tactically changes his question.

I change my shrug to a sigh, grabbing his foot as he tries to kick me again. This time, I yank off his shoe and throwing it across the room.

"Hey!" Carl yells.

"Well don't kick me, dickhead!"

He burst into laughter, "You know you swear way too much, right?"

"Yeah, tell it to the judge."

"Dude..."

"What?"

"We're already in prison. I don't think the judge will listen."

I snort at his dumb joke. "You're so weird."

He taps the side of my head with his shoeless foot, getting me to look up in annoyance until I see what he's holding in his hand.

"No way..." I gasp.

"My Dad won't notice."

"Sure?"

"I don't know if there's anything good on it."

"Dude, I haven't heard music in over a year. I don't care if it's got only got Nickelback songs on it."

"Who?" Carl asks as he hands over the MP3 player his Dad had been using this morning.

"Nevermind."

I scroll through the songs on the small box while Carl searches for his shoe under a split open drumset.

"Wow... your dad really likes country, huh?"

"I don't know," Carl answers earnestly, "I never really listened to music before. Except when my Mom would sing to me."

I look up from the handheld jukebox, Carl sitting on the floor by the drum, no shoe in sight.

"What did you're mum sing?" I ask.

"She always used to sing that- 'you are my sunshine' song to me."

"That sounds really nice."

Carl laughs at my response, "What about you?"

I think about my answer before giving it.

"My Mum always used to read to me. She wasn't much of a singer."

Carl keeps rummaging through the junk beneath the drum while I scroll through the tidal wave of country music before finding something.

"Ah-ha!" I shout.

"What?" Carl jumps, hitting his head on the bottom of the drum.

I don't answer. Instead, I hit play and climb on top of the groaning piano, swaying a little before finding my balance. I hold out my hand.

"I haven't found my shoe," Carl starts.

I kick off one of my shoes in response.

"Shut up, and let's dance."

"I don't know how."

"Me neither," I laugh.

Carl takes my hand, and I pull him onto the piano. A moment of worry for its stability is soon washed away when we start to move to the music.

I've got a good job,

I work hard for my money,

When it's quittin' time I hit the door runnin',

I fire up my pickup truck,

And let the horses run,

The varnished wood squeaks under our feet as we slowly sway to the rhythm playing from the small device's speakers. Carl, laughing as I pull his arms back and forth, forcing him to dance with me when the song picks up. The lyrics are dumb, and the instruments are wild as we swing back and forth, laughing like idiots. Blue is locked onto green as dust is kicked up by both, jumping from side to side as we twist and slide while hand in hand. My flannel whips around my waist as lightning bolts shoot from us. Carl's face lit up as he grins from ear to ear, the piano below, making obnoxious and off-key sounds as we move.

I go flyin' down the highway,

To that hideaway,

Stuck out in the woods,

Oh, get down, turn around, go to town,

To do the boot scootin' boogie.

Carl steps to the left when he should have gone right.

Or maybe I should have gone right?

Either way, his foot, which is protected by nothing but a sock, falls under the shoe I still have on. He pulls his leg up, reeling back and hopping on one foot.

I'm worried.

Then I'm laughing.

Then we're falling.

Carl tips back off the piano with our still clasped hands, forcing me to join him in a short tumble to the dusty floor. We lie on the ground, a heap of laughter and swearing and holey socks.

"Um, hello?"

We both look up to the quiet southern voice.

Beth.

"Sorry to interrupt," she giggles, "Karen was lookin' for you, Noah."

"Thanks," I tell her, squinting at her upside-down smile as she peers down at me.

"It's Rhys, by the way," Carl calls after her as Beth turns to leave.

"Oh, shoot, sorry, yeah... Rhys, right." She turns on her heels and leaves without another word.

"That was weird," I decide out loud.

We lie there for a few more minutes, breathless from dancing. The music has long since stopped. Only the sound of our gasps can be heard now, reverberating in the empty music room.

"Let's find you're shoe," I suggest. "Then I'll go find Karen."

"Sounds good." Carl exhales.

I try to get up but can't.

"You might want to get off my legs first." I chuckle.

"Right."


"So what are we looking for?"

Karen ignores my question with a flick of her hand as she peruses the fiction section of the prison library.

"If you don't tell me, I can't help you."

Karen sighs, looking over her shoulder at me with a grin.

"Half the fun of being in a library is not knowing what you're looking for."

I give her the most over the top eye roll I can muster.

"I wouldn't exactly call libraries fun."

This makes her laugh, which I take pride in.

"Well," she starts, "I'm looking for a book for Ty. To cheer him up after Zach."

I'd heard about that. Beth's boyfriend had been lost to the dead on a run, just a day before I arrived.

"Okay, what does Tyreese like?"

"No idea," Karen admits, scratching her head as she reads verbose spines.

"Great..."

"We also need to find you a book," Karen goes on, ignoring my lack of optimism.

"Do we?" I raise an eyebrow in her direction.

"Yes, we do. What do you like?"

I think about the conversation Carl and I had in the music room.

"My Mum used to read a lot of Michael Morpurgo books to me."

"Morpurgo? Your Mom had good taste."

Karen sends me to find a book that I might like, while she keeps searching for a book that she hasn't decided on yet. When I find one, I return to see a smug look on her face before she holds up a book of her own in triumph. I struggle at first to read its faded cover.

"Treasure Island?"

"Yep. Perfect fit, I think. Ty could definitely be a pirate."

Karen takes a moment to revel in her find before coming back to me.

"What did you get?"

I hold it up.

"Born to Run," she reads. "What made you pick it?"

"The dog on the cover is cute," I answer simply and truthfully.

She seems more satisfied with my answer than I thought she would. Karen turns for us to leave.

"Wait... What about you?" I stop her.

"Oh, I already have half the library in my cell-" She takes a moment to think about what she just said. "Which I can't go to because D block is locked down." She frowns.

"So, what are you going to read?"

She looks around the library, empty of people that aren't squished between the pages of shelved novels.

"Nope!" The voice of the librarian rings out. "You aren't having one more book until you bring one back, Miss Karen."

"Sorry, Mr Peterson. I will once I finish one of them!" Karen tries.

"You used that excuse last time. Now we're missing the lord of the rings trilogy."

Karen huffs in defeat.

"How about I read the same one as you?" She points to the book, now wedged into my jeans.

"There was only one copy," I tell her.

"That's fine, you read up to halfway tonight. Then I'll read up to the same page tomorrow."

She sees the frown on my face, responding with her usual wide smile.

"Then we can discuss what we think, and finish it the next day." She explains her thinking.

"Discuss it?"

"I used to run the book club when I was a teacher as well." She hums.

"Of course you did," I snicker.

"So, do we have a deal?"

"Deal."


A/N-

The song was- Boot Scootin' Boogie, by Brooks & Dunn.

Inspiration for the piano scene definitely came from Ellie and Riley in the last of us!

Thoughts and Feedback are Always Welcome!

:)