WitFit Challenge, December 2011

Disclaimer: All fictional characters mentioned are property of their owners

A/N: Well…here it is you guys. The last Witfit entry for the month and for the year. It has been such a joy doing this and I am so touched by all of your wonderful feedback. I'll write more at the bottom. For now…here's an idea I've been playing with forever. 2011 has been a long year and lots has happened, but so many wonderful things happened thanks to the subject of this next witfit entry. Hopefully you'll know what I mean. Happy New Year!

Word Prompt: Reflect

A single word meant to inspire immediate thought. Write what your imagination dictates.

The room was quiet, aside from the mysterious humming noise that always seemed to accompany sound equipment. He sat alone on a stool in the small room with an acoustic guitar balanced comfortably in his lap. Sound booths were so stuffy. He felt surrounded by foam, tethered by cables and microphones and buried under amps and instruments.

His friends had left their guitars and the room moments before, but he stayed behind. It was a silent signal that he wanted to record something.


Lately that seemed like a huge act of courage.

His hands were antsy and they fingered the chords that were running through his head on repeat. In the corner of his eye he could see the technicians moving behind the glass window. The pads of his fingers continued to brush the coiled strings and faint, tinny sounds echoed in his ears.

His knee was bouncing and he scratched his hair through his beanie.

He was quite literally a bundle of nerves.

It felt as though this song had been festering inside him for months now. He needed to play it. The melody was a reflection of everything good in his life – everything right. He wanted it to exist outside of his head.

He looked through his lashes at the low table in the corner of the room. A thin ribbon of smoke was circling above the ashtray where one of his friends had failed to snuff out their cigarette fully. He could smell the smoke from where he sat and he realized how badly he was aching for a cigarette.


Not until he got this out.

A voice called out on the intercom, breaking the nervous stillness around him.

"It's all you, mate. Are you ready?"

He jutted his chin and nodded at the same time, then fought back the embarrassment at the ridiculous gesture. What was that? Regardless, he couldn't open his mouth. He was afraid if he opened his mouth his creativity and courage would spill out of him and be lost.

He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and started tapping his foot nervously as he waited for the light on the wall to flip on. He held it steadily in his peripheral vision and kept his eyes trained on the strings.

When at last the light burned red, he sucked in a quick, deep breath through his nose.

Get it out.

His fingers started pulling at the strings before he'd let out the air in his chest. The melody was so familiar to him now. It had been on repeat in his brain for as long as he could remember. He played it on his guitar in the dark when he had free moments and hummed it when he walked down the street.

He tucked his chin against his chest and closed his eyes as he played. In his head he imagined the various accompaniments that would compliment the piece. A soft drum track, a slow, thumping bassline, distorted electric guitar and vocals. Female vocals, preferably.

Her voice. But she wouldn't do it. No way.

Someone had to sing though. Even if it was him. He didn't have the words, but he had the melody.

As he played on through the second verse the nervous energy unwound in his stomach until he felt the excitement spread through his limbs and fingers. His knee bounced overzealously to the beat of the song and he fought back a triumphant smile. His teeth caressed the skin of his lip as he focused intently on the motions of his fingers.

For now he pushed the thoughts of the accompaniment out of his mind. Right now the guitar was enough. It was perfect.

When the track was over, he'd leave the studio with the recording and he'd keep it secret so no one would know. No one would know but him and when he was ready, he'd share it. Today it was just a perfect track, and for once he could be completely satisfied with something he'd made. Even if no one else ever heard it - he would know.

And that was enough.

That was all he needed.

Well, that and a cigarette.

A/N: Well? We know the guy, right? He's not Edward. Well, not here anyway ;) Just wanted to pay him tribute and hope that this happened to him this year. That he found peace, created something beautiful and is happy about it.

Anyway…onto the business. I need to thank you – every one of you – for all of your wonderful reviews and encouragement. It's been so much fun writing these little snippets and wondering what the reaction would be. Your words helped me so much and made writing these each day SO much fun. I hope you enjoyed reading them as much as I enjoyed creating them. Everyone who leaves reviews in my box has reviewed every chapter, so I can't call any one specific person out. You all mean so much.

As far as where we go from here? I'm not really sure. I know Mistletoeward has written his own story, and I love him for it. I know that Lilacward wants to be a one shot. As far as I can tell right now, that's all that I will expand on. But, if I ever need inspiration for a new story, I'll be sure to come back here and look.

Have a safe and happy New Years this evening (or happy happy 2012 to you if you're on the other side of the world). I hope to hear from all of you soon in whatever I post in 2012. Love y'all! xx