His balcony is directly across the courtyard, far enough away that I don’t feel weird when I watch him but close enough that I make sure I’m never watching him when Hunter’s around. I lean forward in the chair, rest my arms on the edge of the balcony, and watch him. I wonder if he performs them locally or if he just writes them for fun.

I like that I’m witnessing this, especially since after only a few chords, it’s already my new favorite. The way he’s repeating the same chords makes me think he’s creating the song right here on the spot. However, I’ve never heard him play this particular song before. I’ve grown accustomed to his unofficial playlist since he seems to practice the same songs in the same order night after night. One of the familiar songs ends and the guy with the guitar begins to play something he’s never played before. I find that more amusing than insulting, since he seems to be the most dissatisfied person I’ve ever known. “A life of mediocrity is a waste of a life,” he said when I informed him that I was changing my major.Ī life of mediocrity. My plan is to be an elementary music teacher, although if my father had his way, I’d still be prelaw. I even switched my major to music education two years ago. I’ve played the piano for as long as I can remember, and although I’ve never shared it with anyone, I love writing music. Then again, music has always been a passion of mine, so maybe I’m just a little more infatuated with his sound than other people are. I don’t understand how someone could hear these songs and not crave them day after day. I’ve noticed a few other neighbors come out to their balconies when he’s playing, but no one is as loyal as I am. I tell Tori I come out here to get homework done, because I don’t want to admit that the guitar is the only reason I’m outside every night at eight, like clockwork.įor weeks now, the guy in the apartment across the courtyard has sat on his balcony and played for at least an hour. Almost on cue, the sound of his guitar floats across the courtyard as I take a seat and lean back into the patio lounger. I slide open my balcony door and step outside, thankful that the sun has already dipped behind the building next door, cooling the air to what could pass as a perfect fall temperature.

Maybe someday review