Until I run across a photo of a girl online. Name’s Ryen, loves Gallo’s pizza, and worships her iPhone. What are the chances?

I hear my phone beep again, and I falter. “Alright,” I growl, willing the damn texts to stop. Can’t my bandmates host a party without me for five minutes?Just go home and get in bed, Annie. Stop getting up at 4:30 in the morning, and get a decent night of sleep. Okay, sorry. I just had a Facebook break, so I feel better now. Not sure when I turned into such an idiot, but I’m glad you put up with it. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Alright, I gotta go. But yes, to answer your question, that lyric you sent me last time sounds great. Go with it, and I can’t wait to read the whole song. Proofreading & Interior Formatting by Elaine York, Allusion Graphics, LLC/Publishing & Book Formatting

But how can I be mad at her? She’s going places, and she’s a happy kid. Anything I can do to make her happier, I guess.She’s my muse, and she has to know it by now. I’ve been using her as a bouncing board for years, sending her lyrics to read. She puts on the ten-year-old sad face she knows works on me. “I was going shopping for some science project supplies, and you never spend your money. It shouldn’t go to waste.” You see, there’s a girl at school. You know the kind. Cheerleader, popular, gets everything she wants… I hate to admit this, especially to you, but a long time ago I wanted to be her.