Johns band and your band had always had a dispute. You had completely different views on the music industry and how music should be portrayed.

Johns band was sitting in a bar and your band just so happened to be there as well.

“Hey there.” John smirked as he sat beside you, watching as you wrote lyrics in a journal. “Whatcha writing’ there, pretty?” Johns hand moved, almost about to take the journal to read it himself.

It wouldn’t matter anyway. He was a metal head, you wrote love songs.