By the end of the day, my brain is so fried that by the time I get home, all I want to do is go upstairs and crawl into bed. Despite the absolute exhaustion I feel – from my tired body to my tried brain, I know I need to make progress on some of the photos for the yearbook with the end of the year coming up. For whatever reason, I volunteered to help out with the photos this year – more so because Lena asked.

If it wasn't for Lena being the head of the yearbook committee, I never would have agreed to put myself through this. I have collections of photos from over the year, thousands of photos that are perfect for yearbook but usually, I'd just hand them over and let them do their thing. For some reason though, this year felt different and maybe it's because I've been deep diving into the social aspect of high school for the first time in my three years – but either way, I'm deeply regretting the decision now.

Not even bothering with the second floor, I head through the house to the backdoor and out to the guest house. I take the few steps up to the door and swing it open, my lips curling up in surprise when I see Greyson sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table and his eyes settled on the notebook in his lap. At the sound of the door, he turns his head to meet my eyes.

"Hey Grey," I smile softly.

"Hey Vee," he says as he tucks his notebook into the space between the cushion and the arm of the couch. "How was school?"

"It felt like the day was never going to end," I admit as I slip the strap of my backpack off my shoulder and set it on the floor against the couch. "What are you doing in here?" I ask as I sit down on the opposite side of the couch.

"I don't really know at this point," he sighs dramatically as he leans back into the cushions, running his fingers through his hair. "Was I stupid to leave school?"

My lips curl down at the doubt in his voice. "Absolutely not."

"Really? Because so far I've done nothing since I left."

"You're finding your way," I argue. "Grey, you weren't happy at school. Every time we talked you sounded less like yourself and then you told me you had been writing, and you know what? You sounded happy for the first time in months. Like, you had found your thing."

He shakes his head, "I had a year left. Maybe I should have toughed it out. At least then I'd have a back-up plan. Something to fall back on."

"Do you really want something to fall back on that makes you miserable?"

"It's better than nothing, Vee."

"Greyson, it's only been a few months," I move over. "You're going to figure things out, but these things take time and can't be rushed."

"I'm beginning to think this was all a mistake," he groans. "I haven't been able to find any inspiration that actual sticks. Every time I think I've found something, it just fades away and I'm left with nothing."

"It'll come," I assure.

It doesn't seem to help as he brings his hand up and rubs the stressed folds of skin between his eyebrows before looking at me. "How did I end up the family fuck up?"

"Greyson," I frown. "You are far from being a fuck up."

"Really? Because it seems like everyone else has their shit figured out," he groans in frustrated. "We have two parents who went against what their families wanted for them and they're extremely successful. And then there is you guys. Riker's going to be a badass doctor, Isaac's going to be an out of this world designer and then there's you. The things you can do with a camera, Stevie...you've all got it figured out."

"I have nothing figured out," I shake my head. "Not even in the slightest."

"Could have fooled me," he sighs. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound like a jealous asshole...I'm just a jealous asshole."

My lips curl up slightly, "What were you working on when I came in?"

His eyes drift to the notebook he hid when I came inside and shakes his head, "Nothing. It's stupid."

"Can I see?"

Greyson looks over at me before grabbing the book and holding it out to me. He waits for a second as I make first glance at the sheet before sighing, "It's dumb. It's just something I've been working on with everything going on around here lately."

"You wrote a poem?" I ask as I read over the first few lines.

"I don't know," he swallows, and I can tell he's embarrassed by the way he squirms in his seat. "I guess so..."

"You guess so," I tease as I read it out loud. "You're the opposite when everything goes numb. As soon as I kiss you, I want you to stay."

I fall silent as I keep ready the words he wrote, the story playing out on the page and I find myself in a slight sway as I read. It hits me that maybe this isn't a poem, but rather lyrics waiting for music to really define them.

"Greyson...this isn't a poem," I grin as I look up. "It's a song."

"What?" He raises his eyes from his lap. "No, it's not."

"Yes, it definitely is," I nod as I hum the words, finding the smoothness in them.

"Wait," he holds his hand up as he gets up, grabbing the guitar from the corner of the room before returning to his seat. "Can you try the second verse there for me?" He asks suddenly, leaning over to get a look at the words before pointing at them.

I nod my head and meet his eyes for a second, wondering if he wants me to start. Taking a deep breath, I skim over the words before letting my voice carry them. "White roses in the sky, broken vows on the floor," I sing first and Greyson slowly finds the cords in between the words. "Tell me we've got time. Tell me we've got it all, be careful with me cause every part of me is yours."

Greyson stops playing when I stop singing, and my lips spread into a grin as he takes a second to collect himself. I think he knows as well as I do, that this is what he was waiting for. The thing that was missing.

"Grey, that's it," I nudge him. "You're a songwriter."

"I don't know about that," he swallows as he takes the notebook back from me.

"It's worth trying, isn't it?" I ask. "You have the music gene."

"Says you," he rolls his eyes. "We all play instruments, Vee."

"Sure," I nod. "But who picked it up fastest? You. Who plays the drums, guitar and piano? You. Who can write songs? You."

"I can't write songs," he argues.

"Greyson, this is a song," I tap my finger on the sheet. "You can do this, and I know it's scary putting yourself out there. Especially when you don't know what the outcome will be but you have to realize that some things are worth the risk of failing. You can do this, and if you fall, you can get back up and keep trying."

"Stevie..."

"This is your heart, Grey," I tell him. "This is your thing."

"You have way too much confidence in me," he looks at me and I can see in his eyes that he's both unsure of himself, and totally going to crack in excitement.

"It's because you're amazing," I grin at him. "And you're going to do absolutely amazing things. This isn't just something someone does."

He shakes his head at me, "I don't know."

I grin brightly, "Yes, you do."

"You're killing me, Vee."

"You can do this, Greyson and I know it's a tough road to go down but you've never struck me as someone that takes the easy path," I lean into the couch. "I love you, and I know you can do this."

He chews his bottom lip as his eyes drop to his notebook again, debating to take my words for their value or run from his fears. Exhaling slowly, he nods before meeting my gaze again. "I'll think about it."

"You'll think about it," I roll my eyes, nudging his arm as I get up. "I'm going to work on the yearbook."

"Okay," he laughs. "Stevie?"

I turn as I open the door to my version of a studio, my lips curl up when I look at him.

"Thank you," he says sincerely. "Sometimes it's hard to believe in yourself, but then I've got you to believe in me when I can't."

"Always," I nod.

He nods in return as I step inside, closing the door behind me with a smile on my face. It's true that we can't always believe in ourselves, our fears of falling down being our greatest downfall but then I remember that I've got people behind me that will hold me up when I can't do it myself. I know Greyson knows he's got what it takes to make it, and just needs a push to see what's right in front of him.

I manage to get in a few hours of work before I'm interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by Greyson popping his head inside. Clicking off my program I turn in my chair to face him, raising an eyebrow in his direction.

"Dad's here. Wants to talk to all of us about something," he explains.

"Okay, I'll be there in a minute," I tell him before turning back to my computer to shut everything down. Greyson waits for me, taking my bag before I can get it over my shoulder and ushering me towards the main house. "Any idea what he wants to talk about?"

He shrugs, "Not sure. I got a text from Riker saying to come inside."

I hum as we get into the house and a smile grows on my face when my dad opens his arms for me. Always greeting me with a warm embrace.

"Hi little bird," he says as I rush into his arms. "How's it going?"

"Good," I tell him. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," he rubs his hand over my arm before looking at the boys. "You guys too."

"Yeah, yeah," Riker waves it off, a teasing tone in his voice. "We all know she's your favourite."

Isaac hums in agreement. "The same way Grey's mom's."

"We don't have favourites," my dad rolls his eyes in argument.

"Sure, you don't," Riker mocks leaning forward on the counter where he sits. "What'd you want to talk about?"

"Oh, right," he says, as if he had forgotten all together what he came here for. "My label wants to celebrate our twenty years with them at the end of the month and is putting on a huge party for us. We're thinking about doing it here, but I wanted to let you guys know so you can invite Lena, Mika and Felix."

"Way to leave me out," Greyson rolls his eyes.

"You can bring a date, Greyson," he chuckles. "Sound good?"

"Sounds fun," Riker nods. "It's been a while since we've seen the band."

"Yeah, like two years," Greyson crosses his arms. "What's up with that?"

"They've been a little busy," he laughs. "So, sounds good? I'll let you know the day once I clear it with your mom."

I nod, "Can I invite Robyn, Isla and Miles too?"

"Yes, absolutely," he agrees. "The more the merrier. Anyways, Greyson, how's the writing going? You got anything for me to read yet?"

"Uh, it's going," Greyson swallows before meeting my eyes. "I'm opening myself up to more options."

My lips spread into a grin as Riker slaps his shoulder, brushing off the information. "That's nice, bro but how about I kick your ass on the PlayStation instead?"

Greyson rolls his eyes but nods his head.

"Dad, you coming?" Riker asks as he jumps down from the counter, heading for the living room with Greyson and Isaac.

"Count me in," he nods before looking at me, pulling me back into a hug. "Love you, little bird."

"I love you too."

a/n;

Update #2! :)