Scribble. Erase. That was basically all you could hear around Damien. The sound of him crossing out and jotting down words and phrases on a piece of notebook paper, hoping that they'd eventually fall in place and end up making a song. This was what he did in his spare time, or when he didn't feel like going to class, like now.

He sat with his pen near his chin, thinking, on the bottom stair of the school. He knew not many people came down these stairs since they were in the back of the school so he didn't mind being out in the open. He flicked his hair out of his blue eyes and sat staring at the paper hoping something would jump out at him or a lightbulb would come on inside his head.

Okay, so maybe it was bad that he was skipping class, but who was there to stop him. The teachers at this place could care less about who was there, but of course that wasn't what they told the parents. Damien had always wanted to go on a different route in life, one that involved music. He had set up a recording studio in his uncle's basement. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was something that he could work with.

His uncle had always told him he had musical talent 'after all Damien was related to him'. So, he had set Damien up with a guitar and some lessons, but soon Damien learned to pick up notes and rythm on his own, so lessons weren't really needed. He wasn't one to brag, heck, he wasn't even one to talk, but he liked being alone. It suited him. Sure, he had his circle of friends and the occasional crushes, but sometimes it was better to just be alone..