Vayne had homework to do and sitting in his room hearing 50 cent in the next while he tried to write a song wasn't how he wanted to spend his evening. Music was really the only class he cared about in this school and someday hoped to be a famous musician. It wasn't like he was going to be handed a scholarship to some football college. Though he was stronger and faster than probably most nfl stars he couldn't handle the concept of 'not breaking bones when tackling.' Of course baseball was another story, the common excuse 'not my fault he didn't duck' didn't work either. The list went on and on to the point where he decided against joining any athletic team. Cause as a singer you can get drunk and chuck a whiskey bottle at someone's head you don't like and it's cool. It also gave him a more constructive outlet to creativity than finding brand new ways to enjoy a new soccer ball.

The hybrid boy sat by a tree setting down his guitar case and pulling the notebook from it. Vayne wanted to edit the lyrics a bit before playing his beloved instrument. Grabbing a pencil from his inner pocket he began tapping the paper with the eraser. He was looking his work over while thinking how he wanted it the song to sound. He definitely didn't want it to sound brooding but the lyrics clearly had a theme of past regret. Maybe more of a second chance theme? No, too overdone way to over done. Should've been taken out of the oven several decades ago then burned at the stake while demons danced around it. After making a few changes he unzipped the bag and pulled his beloved guitar from it. He pulled the pic from his strings and began tuning it which he had neglected to do just that morning.