You knew it was wrong.

He was much older than you, and he’s in your brother’s band for god’s sake. But why couldn’t you stop these feelings?

Maybe it was the thrill of it, you knew better; you had to keep this desire a secret.

Or was it the way he played with his drumsticks, the same way he toys with your heart.

He was alone in the garage, a piece of paper in hand.

He’s alone. Writing lyrics. Again.