adrianmasri - Tumblr blog

[adrianmasri]

📲 parker → adrian

Parker: I still think "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For" is a great song... but my '80s music taste has definitely been expanded for the better

Parker: Thank you for the gifts, and for coming the other night, it's really so kind of you

Adrian: You don't have to thank me I told you I'd be coming.

Adrian: You were really great by the way. Seriously.

[adrianmasri]

Der Himmel über Berlin (1987) dir. Wim Wenders

[adrianmasri]

[adrianmasri]

⚡📱|| ADRIAN & avery.

Avery: rude that it didn't take me out with it

Avery: ...........

Avery: i'm gonna pretend i didn't read that for the sake of this conversation continuing

Avery: but nice one

Avery: i dig the switch up toward the end, hard to pull off with a song that's mostly acoustic like this

Avery: gotta say, i'm impressed w the range

Adrian: Thanks for sparing me

Adrian: So you write, you play but do you sing too? I think that would constitute you as a triple threat

[adrianmasri]

⚡📱|| ADRIAN & avery.

Avery: there totally is

Avery: yeah i'm not looking to snap my leg trying to wander around in the dark

Avery: you'll have to wait

Adrian: Right I completely forgot that the world ended

Adrian: I think if you break one leg technically your chances of breaking another are reduced by half

Adrian: https://open.spotify.com/track/0snbwXpGlnIFHbUogLZUsP?si=66a725c223c44cf5

Adrian: Another you might like maybe

[adrianmasri]

➼ KIT & adrian.

CLOSED STARTER for @adrianmasri LOCATION: Waverly Dorm

Kit was in the middle of blending a smoothie when all of the power suddenly cut off, effectively killing the lights and keeping the ingredients in his blender from turning into a liquid. “Dangit,” he whined. His mouth bent into slanted line. Reaching into his pocket, he dug out his phone and activated its flashlight, using its brightness to illuminate a path from where he stood to the front door. Was it just he and Diego’s room that suffered an outage? Or was it the rest of the dorm too? Only one way to find out. Complete darkness greeted Kit when he pulled open the door, answering his question. It wasn’t until he pointed his phone away from the floor and held it up chest-height that he could see what was in front of him. He twisted left then turned right, trying to come across something and make sense of what just happened until the light from his phone lit up a figure. “Whoa, shit–” Kit’s heart nearly shot up to his nose at the unexpected presence, fumbling with his phone until he regained composure and managed to steady his hand. It was some tall dude with a mess of dark hair. Not someone Kit’s spoken to before to his knowledge. “Hey, man. Did you see what happened? Or did everything just– shut off?”

...

        He had his headset hooked to his pedalboard, which instantly zapped into a noise canceling void as the lights shut off all around him. Okay. He removed it and glanced around the room, hearing that the AC vent in the ceiling had ceased to make any noise either. A power outage? He’d been strumming on his Floyd Rose Stratocaster, which he set on the bed as he moved to fish in his desk drawer. His mom had sent him on his way with a ‘hurricane kit’ this year—an obnoxious precaution in his eyes, though if it were to pay off, now would be the time. He picked up the slim but weighted flashlight and turned it on, making his way to the hall. No one in sight. He ventured down a flight of stairs, and then another. He walked out on the third and saw a light down the hall, which he then subsequently turned his own off as he made his way towards them. However, he quickly wished that he’d left it on, if not out of warning, because the guy spun around, seemingly on his heel and seemingly through being startled, and shined him. Adrian lifted a hand to his face. Who was it that inhabited the third floor again? He dropped his hand, blinking, “Sorry, man, I didn’t mean to come up on you like that,” A hand lifted to wipe his eyelids, and he realized then who he’d run into. Adrian’s stomach flipped. Shit, it was him. A twinge of culpability and apprehensiveness found his expression for a moment. 

       If there was any shred of fairness, it was that Adrian had ultimately been lied to. Greer had lied to him, in a way that made it seem like it had only been Adrian, and all other relations had sputtered or ceased. Just him and her. It wasn’t until he had seemed to vanish from her perception, walking hand-in-hand with this guy no less than a week after did he realize his foolishness. But that was her thing, wasn’t it? It had been Greer’s world, they were all just living in it, and she could have her cake and eat it too. Back to reality. Adrian touched down, clearing his throat and shaking his head, still unsure of the other, what he knew and what he did not, “Nah, I’m not sure what happened.” He explained, pausing, “... Uh- I mean, has it been raining or something? I really haven’t been paying attention to what’s going on outside. Maybe a powerline is out.”

[adrianmasri]

⚡📱|| ADRIAN & avery.

Avery: interesting take

Avery: unhinged in the best way, they rly put the spin on post-punk

Avery: yeah ruth radelet can step on me, blows that the band broke up

Avery: easy now

Avery: i think the agreement was you go first

Adrian: I didn't realize there was such a fine line between adoration and violence.

Adrian: Which I agreed to do. i think the deal was that "i showed you mine if you showed me yours"

Adrian: Showing would be easier. Did you want to come by some time? not now obviously

Adrian: Unless you wanted to come over now. Then you could totally come over now

[adrianmasri]

⚡📱|| ADRIAN & avery.

Avery: https://open.spotify.com/track/1kAZE1Wtwg8sd7lCyLUweb?si=a23307f8ce6547ab

Avery: too on the nose?

Avery: points for the song choice btw

Adrian: Very nice. No doubt AF set a big stage. You know the whole "we stand on the shoulders of giants" thing? i do think AF is one of those modern day giants.

Adrian: But even they themselves definitely do stand on this kind of early 80s wave

Adrian: https://open.spotify.com/track/1MZfEuraWc5nkysgW8uQWZ?si=ebf49765f10b4a15

Adrian: Let me know what you think

Adrian: So, you like the Chromatics? I still need to see some of this writing of yours that you mentioned.

[adrianmasri]

⚡📱|| ADRIAN & avery.

Adrian: From one cataclysmic black hole to another, I think you might like this.

Adrian: https://open.spotify.com/track/7MXlRIl901aXfJ2oSGn0E2?si=39df2cb6539a45a2

Adrian: I promised I wouldn't send a "you up" text but i never said I wouldn't try for a late night song exchange. Do your worst.

[adrianmasri]

[adrianmasri]

➼ PARISA & adrian.

It’s been okay. He was making small talk, much like she was. Parisa felt conflicted: it wasn’t as though she owed Adrian anything, yet part of her felt somewhat guilty for name dropping him even though she had done so under pressure. Plus, how was she to know if he was actually innocent? The answer was that she didn’t. “Never been better, actually. It’s finally getting chillier, and October is right around the corner. There’s nowhere else to be during the fall, New England is elite for that.” Okay, now she was mindlessly rambling to assuage her own conscience. Taking a deep breath, Parisa composed herself 

“You’re a musician, right?” As if Parisa hadn’t been referring to him as ‘that musician guy that Greer hooked up with once’ ever since she made Adrian’s acquaintance. “How’s the school year been so far? In terms of classes, I mean.” That seemed like a safe enough topic to approach.

...

       He listened, and it didn’t take much of it for him to feel like her words were off. It felt a bit strange to hear, but he figured there was a stake in it. The leaves had an exceptional way of changing color here, and though he preferred his weather like that on the west coast: lukewarm year around, he understood the appeal of autumn. Real autumn. She sighed deeply, loudly enough for him to hear where he was standing, a few feet away, and his presumptions only felt bolstered. She as acting strange. But, he would take strange to viperous. At least she hadn’t snapped at him, much like she did the last and only time they’d ever run into each other. 

        Adrian shrugged, “Yeah, I guess I am,” He responded, the hesitation stemming from the fact that he never really thought of himself as a ‘musician’. He wasn’t sure what he would call himself though, actually. Since she seemed to want to keep talking to him, he made his way to the loveseat across from her, sitting down and taking another bite of his cookie, nodding, “It’s been so-so,” He briefly alleviated, still, not so much interested in himself. His eyes scanned her, a flicker of thoughtfulness in his hazel eyes, “... Are you sure you’re okay? You seem nervous, or something,” A bold accusation, but the truth, “I mean, the last time we saw each other, it’s just— I know you lived with her,” Adrian started, and he wasn’t really even sure if he should have brought it up, but alas, he did, “I understand. I get it if everything’s not okay.” Did he? Did he understand? Maybe not under the pretense of Greer’s disappearance, but he’d felt battered before to the point of drowning in his own pitifulness. He felt like he could understand the feeling if he knew exactly what that feeling was.

[adrianmasri]

➼ LARA & adrian.

“You don’t know what a noticeboard is?” She looks at him now, perplexed; a crease forming between the brow, the darks of her eyes narrowing as if they’d fallen upon the sight of some otherworldly being. Perhaps she spoke in tongues, Adrian preferring to name it something else entirely. She hoped as much. It never quite settled comfortably within her how some could simply live amidst chaos; disorganised, behind. Though, as she inspected him beneath the length of her lashes, Lara concluded how he wasn’t exactly what she’d deem herself familiar with. The two at a contrast. Her bewildered expression now seemingly predictable. And then she considers further, a brief thought which expires as soon as it arrives, about how far their differences could span.             She hears him laugh and it prompts her own girlish grin, her gaze quick to descend to the polished college floors. An eagerness to dim the oncoming beam. As if she desired to capture the amusement within her and refuse to perceive him beyond this gangly, unfamiliar stranger. “It’s frustrating,” she confesses. “A glass on the top shelf is my kryptonite. I’ve considered hiring my very own Goliath. So, if you’re looking for a job.” Her petite shoulders lift and fall at the sentiment. A tilt to her head as he continues. “And your major is?” The last word drags out like water snagging on a rock. “Or is this where I pick you apart from our little interaction and take a wild guess?” She notes the way the waves of his hair frame his face and considers how akin he is to a ‘60s rocker - like he’d just walked off the set of a Jim Morrison biopic. It’s a fleeting thought, lost behind the firm shake of his hand. “Lara,” she responds. “We haven’t.” She’d remember, of course. A mental note etched across the inside of her skull. “Although you don’t exactly strike me as the frat party type.”                A final glance is shared between them before she returns to retrieve her bag, the weight of it causing a groan to catch in her throat. “Follow me. If you need some water there’s a dispenser in the corner.” It was relatively empty - aside from a freshman who appeared, as if on cue, with a plastic cup in possession; slipping past the pair to disappear into the hallway behind them. 

...

        Her grin and the way she canted her head down towards the floor, as if there was an attempt at being modest, or dare he consider it as coy. His eyes, fleetingly moved over her while her gaze wasn’t on his. Never mind, she replied with something sardonic to match, and in a position where he usually would find himself shrugging it off, he instead gave her a single nod, “I’ve never actually had a job that was commission-based, but, I’d be willing to add it to my résumé,” He told her, something amusing about the fantastical and silly idea of being an on-call-grabber. He had been asked a few times at groceries—mostly by elderly women—to grab this or that off the top store shelf. To make a serious career of reaching? Well, if it were that easy. His gaze, one that had briefly fallen to the floor in thought, moved up to her once she began to ask about him. In direct relation to the reason he was here, of course.

       Adrian considered it for a moment, and half-shrugged, a loose smile to pair, “Would it be entirely selfish of me to prefer being ‘picked apart’ instead?” He quired, nearly in retort, with an air of ‘your words, not mine’. The boy smirked for a few moments, in which the smile subdued into something more mellowed, “... I guess I’m curious in what I front as. I mean, from our whole... Five minutes of talking I think it’s safe to say that you’re clever, and probably thoughtful, subsequently.” Was it a compliment? His own analysis? Yes, he supposed his honest idea of her was, and he could only hope she saw it as such. His hands had since returned to his pockets as he continued, “I guess I’m curious as to what you’d read me as. Full reporter mode, no filter, cut loose.” Adrian told her, committing to it, and in a way it presented as a bit of a challenge, one he felt like her kind of person wouldn’t pass up. Though, how many times in your life did someone you just met ask you to present your first impression in all truth? It flitted in the realm of ‘unnerving with a dash of fun’.

       Lara. A name. He lightly laughed at the mention of frat parties. No, indeed he was not the ‘frat’ type, and he didn’t feel like she was either, contradictory to her words. Although, in all honesty, frats seemed to be present a pretty sweet gig for the female half of the campus: get in for free and drink for free. He couldn’t knock it. Free was free. He watched her turn to the door and open it, leading them in — again, a place he’d never been nor did he ever think he would be. He removed his hands from his coat pockets, “So, uh-... I take it this is where I’m being interviewed for ‘personal Goliath’?” He capered, retouching on her joke, knowing very well that she was being nice to let him in to wait. Adrian looked around, now crossing his arms over his chest, inspecting the room. 

[adrianmasri]

📨🎁 @walshparker

Where ➼ Ogden Auditorium When ➼ An evening, one where the school play ‘The Lady From the Sea’ is being preformed. Who ➼ Adrian and only Adrian What ➼ Adrian leaves a gift for Parker before he views the play

        He’d decided to take her up on her offer. His ticket to see The Lady From the Sea sat temporarily between his lips. He’d run out of hands as one attempted to put his wallet away in the pocket of his slacks, while the other held a small arrangement of white, pink and yellow roses. The colors reminded him of spring; something about appeasement and new beginnings. He hoped she’d eventually be someone he could call a friend. His right hand, now freed, plucked the ticket from his mouth and he made his way to the cubbies. Within his arrangement was a small envelope with her name written on it in the best handwriting he’d mustered in years and a small note that shortly said, ‘let me know what you think’, with his name and number at the bottom. What did it allude to? A flash drive containing a selection of handpicked eighties favorites he’d spent the past few nights putting together, with a piece of masking tape used as a label. ‘Not U2′. He couldn’t find anything better nor more apt for the space provided on the small USB.

       Was it a gesture that lingered on the bolder side? Sure. But he couldn’t find anything he had to lose. The confusion from her quick escape had healed and what replaced it was a desire to reach out to her again. He approached the woman running the cubbies, finding her’s rather easily for it was the last. Walsh. Parker Walsh. A small headshot of her was placed next to her name and above it was what appeared to be an empty slot. His lips found the shape of a small, inward smile, for it simply felt nice to know that this time she’d most certainly come out to something waiting on her. Adrian gestured at the bouquet by slightly lifting it, “For Parker.” He told her, the woman nodding and taking it from his grasp. He only lingered for a moment longer, just to see it be brought down to the cubby, and then he turned, figuring this was any time for an entrance into the auditorium.

        His plain black shirt, his black slacks and belt with only the faintest shimmer of gold shining off his buckle, he moved like a ghost through the dark theatre, finding a seat near the middle just off the aisle.

[adrianmasri]

➼ PARKER & adrian.

“oh, no. “ the dismissal immediately read—at least, to parker, herself—as self-deprecating, the redhead almost wincing at the sound. she knew exactly how her mother would’ve reacted to that sort of response, eyes like subtle disappointment boring into the back of her head from a person who wasn’t even present. she’d always been taught, by one annabeth walsh, not to highlight her lack of a skill or talent so blatantly. to detour, to make even falling short of something sound good. better than achieving it, even.

but nonetheless, parker’s interest—her unquestionable presence in the conversation—stayed, if not grew, as the topic turned back to adrian. no one could say she wasn’t entirely involved in every conversation she had, after all. to speak with her was to be listened to, paid total attention, one-hundred-and-ten percent. it helped, too, that his mother’s apparent history was so fascinating. “a concert rat,” she echoed, a soft interjection meant only to emphasize her amusement and encourage more detail. wide eyes settled into a soft smile as he provided just that, the images formulating behind her eyes as though he’d sneakily managed to place a projector back there. flickering—glowing and warm. only, the film cut too soon, spotlight turned firmly back on her.

“i actually do mostly plays, now,” she admitted. an actor first, as those in the community put it. “we’re actually putting on a production of the lady from the sea right now, at ogden” parker picked up with renewed enthusiasm. “henrik ibsen. supposedly the father of realism.” a hand rose to motion about some, head tilting here and there. as though she was entirely aware that she was reciting some sort of spiel, even though it wasn’t. even though this was just the kind of thing she enjoyed knowing and talking about. but she’d talked about similar enough to anticipate the person opposite of her’s eyes glazing over, so she played it off quickly enough. “it’s a real heartstrings-tugger. you should come see it, if you haven’t already.” a shrug lifted her shoulders some, as though the offer was merely casual. yet, in the same breath, her eyes betrayed the motion, clearly alit with subdued passion about the brief subject. about extending the invitation.

a sudden buzz from her pocket then drew her attention. “sorry,” parker spoke, reaching for it before glancing down at the screen. in response to whatever it displayed, the corners of her mouth fell. “i’m sorry,” she repeated after a beat, though for a new reason, “i have to head out.” at that, she stuffed the phone back into her pocket, offering adrian an apologetic smile as one foot already carried her towards the entrance. in all honesty, she didn’t know quite how to end the conversation. a hug definitely felt off, as did anything else that came to mind. so, she took another step, back facing the direction in which she walked so that she could at least maintain eye-contact for a few more seconds. “but, hopefully, i’ll see you soon? maybe at a show?” with that, she turned around, hurrying out the door. entirely forgetting to close out her tab and collect her card.

...

        To his faint surprise, she seemed rather amused by what he thought to be a discomfit and trivial anecdote. An account of his mother was not something he shared often, but of his two parents she would be the preferred to share, he figured. People took more to her ‘bohemian’ charm rather than his father’s ‘business-savvy’, he supposed. Noted on an intrapersonal level, it felt as though Parker seemed to hear him in a way that he wasn’t used to, or most people for that matter. There was a difference between listening and hearing, the latter of the two with a connotation of not only being able to understand but wanting to.  It was the look in her eyes that had given her away. For a moment he felt like he was under a microscope, if only in the wake of the revelation that she’d taken it upon herself to hear him. Or, perhaps standing under a magnifying glass was more ‘esque’. It was in a way that if the glass was tilted ever so slightly, it would catch the sun and burn him. Almost simultaneously, his guard fell just as it rose, for this was the kind of person a wise man wanted to meet, but the very last for someone living in any sort of shame. His tides were shifting; he felt the itch to close up and be more choosey with what he was saying. 

       Plays. Her red hair aflame under the bright light, her blue eyes, and her honeyed, girl-next-door energy that seemed to drive sparks into even the darkest corners of the room — she suddenly felt on par with the likes of Mary Jane Watson. Had she walked straight out of a comic? I guess he’d never know, but he leaned in on the Juke, bringing a hand to his head and listened. He made a few mental notes, wanting to remember the name of the play; of the writer of whom wrote it. It seemed her interest in playwriting dove a little deeper than what he anticipated to be most. He shook his head, already feeling his answer might include some disappointment, “No, I haven’t seen it.” He admitted, smiling, a slight laugh leaving him, “I mean, I’ll be honest, I didn’t realize they were doing plays this early in the year, but you’ve definitely already sold it to me, I’ll try to make it to-...” Her phone began buzzing, and his words trailed as she became distracted, pulled away from whatever she had received.

       He stood up straight, a small frown finding his expression as she gave him a meek smile, and he knew then that she would be leaving. I guess what he hadn’t expected was how soon she would be, as she almost suddenly pivoted. He cleared his throat, “Uh- yeah, yeah, soon for sure, hopefully — I had a good time talking,” He took a few steps forward as she hurriedly headed out, following in her direction, but clearly a worlds behind, “Hey, maybe I could-” Adrian started, but she was already out of earshot and moving through the double entry doors, “...-get your number.” He finished the sentence deflated, feeling kind of really damn goofy, as he was left there with U2 on their outro and a few pairs of curious eyes glancing over at him. Well, this sucked. He figured she could’ve been in some sort of trouble, but the mind had a way of clinging to the most hurtful and self-centered of possibilities. Though as a bird merely fluffed its damp feathers he tried ridding the stinging feeling in a similar fashion, turning back to the juke and feeding it another dollar. Just What I Needed by The Cars. Nice. He picked it, and started making his way back to the bar, catching a craving for a drink that was a little more robust. 

END.

[adrianmasri]

➼ AVERY & adrian

       He half expected her to ask him to beg after such—in good jest—but almost comedically she relinquished a deal. He smiled, one that dictated a single side of his lips, but didn’t bear the connotation of a smirk. In fact, it was rather boyish, still so as he nodded towards her, “I’d shake your hand on it, but, as we established, that’s not a cool thing to do anymore,” He teased, referring to a previous node in their conversation. ‘I’ll show you mine… if you show me yours’. Bold. His reaction was a slight raise of the brows, but then a small, almost bashful laugh, because it was in the end, funny. Was that a step in his direction? A flirt? He had no response, and even if he did he wasn’t sure he’d commit to saying it. In the end, he wasn’t a philanderer, nor ultimately calculated with his interactions with women, as some had seemingly acquired. Many still, at twenty-two, made him a little nervous, actually. Maybe Avery a little more than others. However a ‘fuck it, sure’ was enough for him, and with a stride of enthusiasm he gave her his phone. He smiled, then quickly shook his head, rejecting her assumption, “I’d at least like to think I’d use proper English in that given scenario. Maybe an ‘are you awake?’ or maybe even a very Shakespearean, ‘Is thou awoken?’, you know?” He joked, against shaking his head, “—Kidding. I wouldn’t. Seriously. Never. Ever.” Adrian stood, now getting his phone back and smiling down at her, as he’d started and tightened his grip around his backpack strap, “Until then.” And parted from her with a widened smile.

-

Is thou awoken? Holy shit, this kid was an absolute dork. Forget a ‘u up’ text. The most risqué thing Adrian would probably send her is a Boomer meme with a Minion on it off of Facebook. She couldn’t help the half moon shape her mouth eased itself into. Tall, dark and handsome? More like giant dorky geek. God, his bashfulness was infectious. For some reason, Avery was starting to feel warmth in her cheeks at his humor. Though honestly, it was probably just secondhand embarrassment. Something she sensed she’d be feeling a lot of if she continued to spend time around Adrian. If this guy wasn’t a musician, she’d definitely clock him as still a virgin. The ability to play guitar and sing was truly doing the most for some people. With his phone in her hands, she inputted her number and listed herself in his contacts as ‘Avery (Ogden’s Absolute Peach)’ before handing the device back to him. The all-too-happy smile on his face made her want to kick herself. “Mhm. See ya.” She watched him leave, her head swinging from side to side all the while. He hasn’t even written her yet and she already felt bad that her number was in his phone.

END.

[adrianmasri]

➼ NATALIA & adrian.

For just a moment, his features were so familiar to her. A not-quite-right rendition of one she knew so well. Uncanny valley or… something. And then she blinked and cleared her throat, shaking it off just as quickly as it had come, though her mind was operating on a half-second delay as she replayed his words over in her head. “Oh, no,” she said with a laugh. “I mean, not unless you count very embarrassing fanfiction from high school. Which… I definitely didn’t do.” Her smile widened, fully recovered from her fumble moments before. “No, not a writer. But I am an actor. That sort of lands in a similar wheelhouse, right?”

...  

     For a moment she looked distant— the moving cogs within, pulling her from the interaction to some degree of inwardness to deepened thought. Enough to where he could perceive it on her face, at least. She had zoned out. But as quickly as her aloofness had appeared it vanished. His brows briefly knotted, and he leaned back, realizing he’d placed his weight on his front with an intrigue for the other. He’d always been a careful listener, if not an inspector of sorts. He smiled slightly, not quite believing her, but he assumed that was the point. A slight confession. Maybe it would’ve landed more had he had a better grasp of the subject, though under quick introspection, he figured ‘fan’ and ‘fiction’ seemed to have a rather clear denotation. So, she probably wrote, but she just didn’t want to talk about it. That was fair. An actress. He’d seemed to run into quite a few as of late. Dulce, Parker, and now her. Adrian nodded, considering, “Yeah, definitely. I mean, I’d be inclined to say that they even rely on each other.” He mused, a smirk finding his expression, “I’m curious.” He nodded in her direction, “Whose career would you want to model your own after? It can be anyone, alive or dead.”

[adrianmasri]

       ➼ SONGS THAT ADRIAN COULD HAVE WRITTEN… 

1. Daisy Daisy // Sea Girls

❝ You shiver echoes in the morning sun Mindless kisses like a Gatling gun Your long hair tumbles out the bed With silver dreams swaying overhead

Hold me Daisy, Daisy, like a reckless fool Tell me, Daisy, Daisy, are you meaning to? And though you never knew me, could you learn to? If I gave you my heart and my whole life too? ❞

2. Cherry Came Too // The Jesus and the Mary Chain

❝ In the light of all my darkest mornings Things fall into place And all the soft orange colored dawnings Fall into place and

Cherry's scratching like a grain of sand The trigger itch in the killer's hand Me and cherry are so extreme Making love to the sound of a scream ❞

3. Tummy // Tamino

❝ I'm no longer found Sex got all my pride I'm no longer found

Passed out in the yard of angels Disabled I saw someone change the labels I've seen it I saw someone change the meaning

Once we were lost Like we almost Like we almost, were in love Can't you help it, thinking of me? Think you love me It's like you must, like you almost, like you almost Have a lust For making something of me, something of me ❞

4. u don't know me // Yot Club

❝ No, you don't know me No, you can't see Show me to what I need Focus on the dream

Look, “I wanna feel like everyone else I wanna feel like everyone else I wanna feel like everyone else I just wanna feel like everyone, " she said

I feel I'm falling back To where I was long ago Way on my own on the road again ❞

5. Fall With Me // The Wild Reed

❝ Sure is good to get a kiss But the best part is that risk wondering if Maybe we got it all wrong And I know my love is true Would I give to be back in that room When we were running out of things to say I couldn’t fall asleep With you in the same room as me Fall with me, baby I know it feels shaky ❞