You tapped your pen furiously against your guitar, teeth gnawing your bottom lip, trying to squeeze out a coherent lyric that could flow from the one scribbled in your notepad 10 minutes before.

The words now looked like a mess of random thoughts from the top of your head. Fuck. Why was writing music so hard all of a sudden? Normally, lyrics would just pour out, but now? Nothing but absolute shit.

You could write something raunchy. You know, like how Rob's kisses made you feel like putty in her hands, how you loved digging your nails into her, or the raspy sounds that escaped her mouth whenever—focus! Way too graphic, and a crowd of 50,000 people definitely do not need an inside scoop on your private life.

You sighed. What the hell were you going to do?

“What’re you up to?” Rob rasped into the back of your neck as her chin rested on your shoulder. The rasp of her voice was all too familiar, just like after the two of you had finished getting hot and heavy. Rob was royally screwing you over (no pun intended).