The blurred outline of a room becomes sharp and focused as the camera lens rattles and whirs. A woman in her mid-twenties is sitting in the middle of the frame. She stares directly into the lens before her gaze skirts around the room.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you need me to do anything?\u201d She asks, looking past the camera.<\/p>\n
\u201cNope, you\u2019re good, I just want to make sure everything is working properly before we start,\u201d a male voice responds from behind our point of view.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs it recording already?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYep. There should be a red light flashing on the front by the lens.\u201d \u201cOkay, yeah. I see it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cCool. So if you could just say who you are and your title, that\u2019d be a great place to start.\u201d The shuffling of papers can be heard in the background as the woman inhales sharply.<\/p>\n
\u201cReady?\u201d She grins, tucking her hair behind her ear.<\/p>\n
\u201cReady.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2026<\/p>\n
The first time Jack had come home from college, he made the mistake of briefly mentioning how the majority of his nights were spent staying up late. His mom, as moms seemed to usually be, was appalled.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt\u2019s not healthy to stay up that late, Jack! You need to get sleep,\u201d She had exclaimed before going off on one of her standard \u201cyou\u2019re my only son, please be careful\u201d rants Jack had grown accustomed to.<\/p>\n
He assumed that his mom thought he was staying up so late because he was going on blackout benders every other night because \u201cthat\u2019s the hip thing the youth do\u201d and \u201cshe was in college once, she knows how it works.\u201d He didn\u2019t bother telling her otherwise. It was easier for her to think that than for Jack to try to summon all of the thoughts and feelings he had experienced and form them into words. Although abandoned and creepy had once been synonymous, everything changed once Jack had moved away from his small hometown and started college in the city outskirts. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about how skyline looked in the early morning light made him feel invincible. He felt like he could take on the world. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation, maybe it was the people he was spending time with. Either way, Jack lived for the nights where he hardly slept at all.<\/p>\n
The rush of exhilaration he felt when he would glance at the time and realize that he could stay up the rest of the night to watch the sunrise just as easily as he could go to sleep probably wasn\u2019t healthy or normal by any means, but he found something hopeful in that feeling. It was probably because he was tired.<\/p>\n
Jack’s favorite and least favorite part of the night was when the birds started to chirp. Something in their musical sound makes reality come crashing down on him. The way he saw it, you could lie to yourself about the time all you wanted, but the birds and their song told the truth. All of the memories he cherished, of sledding during the first substantial snowfall, of sneaking onto the roof of the science building to watch the stars, of campus-wide hide and seek, all started between the hours of 12 and 3 A.M. Maybe that’s why he claimed to feel most inspired late at night. His mom didn’t understand it, but if only she could see him now.<\/p>\n
He was sitting on the rooftop of his apartment complex with the wind blowing through the fabric of his sweatshirt, a hint of autumn in the chill. Smoke swirled into the night and towards the stars as the nicotine coursed through his veins and burned the back of his throat. The sky had started to turn-gradually changing from black, transforming into reds and golds at the horizon, pinks and lavenders seeping and spreading outward across the sky.<\/p>\n
Lights from the apartments across the street slowly blinked to life, their tenants coming out of their slumber. The only light Jack seemed to notice, though, was the dim, artificial light shining from his laptop screen.<\/p>\n
\u2026<\/p>\n
\u201cCan you tell me about the name?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean by that exactly?\u201d She responded, voice unsure. This was a big deal for Jack. Hell, it was a big deal for all of them. She didn\u2019t want to screw things up or make things harder when it came to editing just because she didn\u2019t understand the question.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow\u2019d you guys come up with it? It\u2019s definitely an interesting name. I doubt many people would come up with a name like that.\u201d<\/p>\n
She laughed; it was a question they had frequently been asked. \u201cYou\u2019ll have to ask Oliver about that one. All I can say is that we were at a point in our lives where we wanted people to think we were far edgier than we ever were or ever will be.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u2026<\/p>\n
Jack had hit the lull period that people face when they pull an all-nighter, the part full of self-loathing and an urgency for caffeine. As he trudged down the stairs, trying to carefully balance his open laptop and unlock the door, exhaustion became more and more apparent as he realized dully that all of his concentration had to be put to use in not dropping his computer while sliding the key into the lock.<\/p>\n
Jack kicked the door shut behind him as he made his way into the cramped kitchen. It looked like it hadn\u2019t been remodeled since the early nineties; the bathroom was in the same condition as a college dorm\u2019s, and the bedroom hardly fit his bed.<\/p>\n
His friends constantly asked why he would want to live somewhere so small, and when he would try to explain why he was drawn to his shabby apartment they would just smile and sigh, saying he was living up to the starving artist stereotype.<\/p>\n
When he had first gotten a tour of the empty apartment, all he could think of was the potential it had. Sure it was small and outdated, but it had large windows that filtered sunlight into beams across the wooden floors and white tiled floors in the kitchen and bathroom that contrasted with the mustard yellow sinks. The apartment wasn\u2019t something that was ever going to be featured on HGTV, but renting it was the first thing he had done on his own. It was home.<\/p>\n
Back when Jack was a child, he had always dreamed of having a home of his own. He had imagined a mansion with seemingly never-ending ceilings and a giant swimming pool that looked like a speck in his spacious backyard. He wanted all of the things he and his mom hadn\u2019t had.<\/p>\n
Growing up, it was just him and his mom. Jack\u2019s dad was in some far off state on the opposite side of the country living a life without him. Jack had never really grasped why his father wouldn\u2019t want to stick around; he was a good kid and saw his mom as a queen. His mom would remind Jack that even though he thought she was a queen, his dad\u2019s happily ever after didn\u2019t include her. She was okay with that, so Jack was too.<\/p>\n
\u2026<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mom was an English major in college. So she\u2019s the kind of person that sees significance in every word, ya know? She\u2019s one of \u200bthose<\/em>\u200b<\/em>.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, what does this have to do with the band name?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m getting to that, Jack. Anyways, her senior year she was in this Victorian literature class, right? One of the first authors the class focused on was Charles Dickens. She claims it changed her life, and my name is a result of that life-changing, only meet twice a week course… Stop laughing!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI\u2019m not laughing!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYou\u2019re grinning. Like a jackass. A Jack-ass, get it?\u201d \u201cVery clever, Oliver. Your best yet, honestly\u201d<\/p>\n Jude sighed, sitting beside Oliver and picking at his nails, \u201cCan we get back to the name please?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHey Jude, refrain, will ya? Anyways, I was reading \u200b<\/u>Oliver Twist<\/u>\u200b, to get in touch with my namesake, ya know? And Dickens refers to street urchins a lot and I thought that was cool. I mentioned it to everyone, and it sort of stuck.\u201d<\/p>\n Jude looked over to Jack once Oliver was done with his explanation, \u201cIs visual profanity allowed in this documentary of yours, Jack?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDo whatever you want, man.\u201d Jack responded as Jude turned to Oliver, promptly flipping him off, causing Oliver to burst into laughter.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat was that for?!\u201d Oliver asked.<\/p>\n \u201cYou know why,\u201d Jude grumbled.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy is Jude flipping Oliver off?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLuce, you missed it. I made a great Beatles pun,\u201d Oliver said proudly, looking past the camera.<\/p>\n \u201cI doubt it was great, seeing as none of your Beatles puns are funny.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat\u2019s another dollar in the \u2018Bad Beatles puns that Jude is Tired of\u2019 Jar!\u201d Donnie called out from the other room.<\/p>\n \u201cDammit.\u201d<\/p>\n …<\/p>\n It took every ounce of Jack\u2019s being to walk past his open bedroom door and ignore his large, comfortable bed that was practically begging him to sleep for the next twelve hours as he made his way into the kitchen.<\/p>\n An aloe vera plant sat on his windowsill warming up in the sun that had risen into the sky, its leaves spilling over the small pot it was housed in.<\/p>\n As he desperately waited for the coffee to brew, the grating of the coffee beans music to his ears, he thought back to his freshman year of college.<\/p>\n Back then, Jack believed he was at his peak-his style was what he thought impressive for a freshman guy and his looks were far better than they were his freshman year of high school. However looking back, he understood why his friends had always scored dates and he hadn\u2019t. College girls loved musicians; guys with a baby face and too much product in their hair-they didn\u2019t like all that much. Now, he was comfortable. With his messy hair, dark wardrobe, and green eyes framed by wide-rimmed glasses, Jack practically screamed \u200b\u201cI\u2019m an artist!\u201d<\/em> \u200b<\/em>at anyone who even glanced in his direction. That was only half true, of course. While his looks and passions epitomized \u200bbrooding artist,<\/em>\u200b <\/em>he still watched crappy reality TV shows with his mom; he remembered all the songs from the Disney movies he watched when he was a kid; he loved dogs more than anything, and the last Harry Potter movie always made him cry.<\/p>\n When it came to craft, though, Jack was fully devoted to photography and filmmaking. He blamed his innate obsession on his grandpa.<\/p>\n There wasn\u2019t a time in his life that Jack wasn\u2019t thinking about photography. Hell, his earliest memory was him tugging on his grandpa\u2019s sleeve, practically dragging him into the spare bedroom and straight to the worn-down trunk that sat in the corner. He would sit down, wide-eyed as his grandpa pulled out his old camera and explained how everything worked. Aperture, ISO, exposure-they were all second nature to Jack.<\/p>\n Jack gently set his laptop down on the small, wobbly kitchen table, swiping his pointer finger over the mousepad to make sure the laptop was still on.<\/p>\n The gray screen was blank except for:<\/p>\n Rendering: 32% COMPLETE<\/p>\n \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYou know how you feel like photography is sort of your calling because of your grandpa, Jack?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, why?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWell, with a name like Jude, you sort of have to go into music, ya know? It\u2019s my calling. If I don\u2019t, I\u2019ll put The Beatles to shame and no one wants that.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cBesides Yoko!\u201d Oliver called out.<\/p>\n \u201cBesides Yoko,\u201d Jude confirmed, looking directly into the camera.<\/p>\n \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n Every college had its superstitions. Jack’s university wasn’t any different. Certain parts of campus, or so many believed, were haunted. This superstition spread among the students for two seemingly obvious reasons: campus was built in the early 1900s and people had died there. A non-believer, Jack hardly paid any attention or worried about having to walk across campus late at night. Jack hadn\u2019t known the campus was \u201chaunted\u201d anyways until his roommate had brought it up one of their first nights at school. There they were, finally about to fall asleep after hours of unpacking boxes and semi-awkward small talk, when Jack heard Donnie swear under his breath from across the room.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat\u2019s up?\u201d Jack asked groggily, rolling over and squinting into the dark to see his new roommate.<\/p>\n \u201cSorry, it\u2019s nothing. I just remembered that this campus is supposed to be super freaking haunted. Like, what am I supposed to do if I wake up and there\u2019s a ghost standing over me, trying to watch me sleep?\u201d<\/p>\n Jack would have laughed if it weren\u2019t for the perplexity in Donnie\u2019s voice. \u201cThat\u2019ll never happen, man. I won\u2019t let any ghosts Edward Cullen you.\u201d<\/p>\n The silence in the room was thick, before Donnie finally responded. \u201cDid you just make a Twilight<\/u>\u200b reference?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI won\u2019t tell anyone that you\u2019re afraid of ghosts if you don\u2019t say anything about that.\u201d \u201cDeal.\u201d It was at that point that all worries Jack had about his roommate disappeared.<\/p>\n The ghosts had quickly left Jack\u2019s mind and hadn\u2019t returned until one night when he and Donnie walked across campus, eyes the size of saucers, refusing to glance up into any of the windows in fear of seeing something paranormal.<\/p>\n Jack had practically forgotten about the “ghosts” until he and Donnie were walking back from a party one night. Everything was fine, they were just talking about the party, when Donnie stopped abruptly.<\/p>\n \u201cDid you see that?\u201d He asked, staring up into one of the windows of an academic building.<\/p>\n \u201cSee what?\u201d Jack responded, liquor in his system making his brain a bit fuzzy.<\/p>\n \u201cI \u200bswear<\/em> \u200b<\/em>I just saw something move in that upstairs window,\u201d Donnie whispered melodramatically, shakily pointing up into the dark window.<\/p>\n \u201cSee what<\/em>\u200b?\u201d \u200b<\/em> Jack asked again, getting frustrated.<\/p>\n \u201cA ghost.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n For the last time, you\u2019re being ridiculous. There\u2019s no such thing as ghosts,\u201d Jack said, flopping down on his bed and scrolling through his phone.<\/p>\n \u201cYes, there are, dude! You just didn\u2019t see it,\u201d Donnie responded from the floor, tapping out a beat muffled by the carpet.<\/p>\n Before Jack could utter up a response, a girl stumbled through the door.<\/p>\n \u201cWhoops, sorry,\u201d she said, standing up straight when she realized she was in the wrong dorm room.<\/p>\n Jack had seen her around before; he was pretty sure she lived on the floor above them and he had definitely seen her at the party they had left. He almost couldn\u2019t place her without the dance music thumping overhead and the dim lights. She looked like a completely different person in the harsh light of their dorm room.<\/p>\n Traces of black eyeliner were smudged under her eyes; her lips were stained red, tinged from the lipstick she had applied hours before. Wide-rimmed glasses framed her eyes and her hair was haphazardly piled on top of her head, stray pieces falling around her face. She had ditched the crop top and tight jeans for a t-shirt and baggy sweatpants. While there wasn\u2019t anything particularly compelling about her appearance, her eyes were bright and alive.<\/p>\n Before she made her way out the door, Donnie shouted out to her, \u201cDo you believe in ghosts?\u201d<\/p>\n She turned and locked eyes with him, \u201cWhat kind of question is that? Of course.\u201d \u201cHa! Hear that Jack? She said \u200bof course,<\/em>\u200b<\/em>\u201d Donnie said satisfactorily, earning an eyeroll\u00a0from Jack.<\/p>\n \u201cWhy, you don\u2019t?\u201d The girl asked, leaning against their doorframe. Jack looked up from his phone. \u201cNo, I don\u2019t\u2014Sorry what\u2019s your name?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cLucy.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t, Lucy. I\u2019m gonna need proof before I can say I believe in ghosts. I\u2019m not the type of person that just puts faith into something I\u2019ve never seen.\u201d<\/p>\n Lucy crossed her arms over her chest, \u201cYou were the kid that told the other kids Santa isn\u2019t real, weren\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n Donnie gripped the carpet as he roared in laughter, eyes squeezed shut.<\/p>\n Jack threw one of his pillows at Donnie, who responded with a satisfying \u201coomph.\u201d \u201cI\u2019m gonna tell you a story, then. And we\u2019ll see if you\u2019re still a stick in the mud,\u201d Lucy<\/p>\n said, walking over to the bean bag chair, squeakily settling into it, before continuing \u201cIt was back home, over the summer\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n \u201cI think the most ironic thing about it all was that Lucy is the most passionate I have ever and probably will ever meet, yet she\u2019s the one that was so unsure of herself at the beginning.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2026<\/em><\/p>\n Ever since the night of ghost stories, Lucy practically became Jack and Donnie\u2019s third roommate. Lucy seemed to be spending more and more time in their room-whether they were there or not. She had gotten used to their quirks, like how she\u2019d hardly seen Jack\u2019s right eye since it was always behind the lens of his camera, or how everything seemed to be a drumkit to Donnie, who was constantly tapping out a beat.<\/p>\n One night, Lucy had ventured onto their floor and into Jack and Donnie\u2019s room to study. Both caught up in their own homework and projects, they didn\u2019t notice Lucy standing in their doorway until she swung her backpack off her shoulders and dropped it onto the ground.<\/p>\n \u201cI can\u2019t focus in my room.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cAnd you can in ours?\u201d Jack retorted, writing down notes in the notebook in front of him before going back to staring at his computer screen.<\/p>\n \u201cOur room is a plethora of distracting things. How could you possibly be able to focus in here?\u201d Donnie added, glancing up at her.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know, I guess I\u2019m just comfortable here,\u201d Lucy said, plopping down on their futon as if to prove her point.<\/p>\n Jack shrugged at Donnie before going back to editing the photos he had taken the week before for his Intro to Photography class.<\/p>\n Silence filled the room, something that was out of the ordinary for them. Pencils posing as drumsticks, all that could be heard was Donnie quietly tapping on his textbook.<\/p>\n That was something Jack had quickly noticed about his roommate-he always had to be doing something; he couldn\u2019t sit still, which usually resulted in him drumming on whatever was closest to him or tapping his foot. His friends were actually all musically-oriented, it seemed. Lucy, though she would never accept it, had one of the best voices he had ever heard. They would be listening to music in his and Donnie\u2019s room, Lucy singing along loud enough to be heard, but quiet enough to not draw attention to herself. It wasn\u2019t until Donnie muted the music and Lucy sang out, before turning a bright shade of red, that they realized how self-conscious Lucy was.<\/p>\n Just as they hadn\u2019t noticed her insecurity, Lucy had never noticed Donnie\u2019s by this tick before. However, now that she was stressfully studying for a test, she didn\u2019t seem to appreciate the pencil-made beat that much.<\/p>\n Her annoyance started off small. Lucy sighed, glancing over at Donnie mindlessly tapping before looking back down at her textbook.<\/p>\n But like the drumming, her annoyance crashed in a crescendo-slamming her textbook shut before shouting at an oblivious Donnie \u201cCan you \u200bplease<\/em> \u200b<\/em>stop tapping?!\u201d<\/p>\n Jack looked up sharply, hearing Lucy\u2019s outburst over the music playing in his earphones.<\/p>\n He took them out, gearing up for an entertaining argument.<\/p>\n Donnie looked up from his homework, pencil frozen mere centimeters above his book, \u201cWas that bothering you?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOh, not at all!\u201d Lucy said snidely, \u201cI just love listening to bad beats when I\u2019m trying to study for the hardest test of my life.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat was a good beat!\u201d Donnie argued.<\/p>\n \u201cWhat was it supposed to be?\u201d Jack asked in amusement.<\/p>\n \u201c\u2018Eye of the Tiger.\u2019\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThat sounded \u200bnothing<\/em> \u200b<\/em>like \u2018Eye of the Tiger,\u2019\u201d Lucy deadpanned.<\/p>\n \u201cYou sound nothing like \u2018Eye of the Tiger,\u2019\u201d Donnie retorted lamely. Lucy snorted, rolling her eyes. \u201cYes, because that makes so much sense.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI doubt you could sing it any better, Miss American Idol,\u201d Donnie challenged.<\/p>\n \u201cI don\u2019t know what you\u2019re talking about,\u201d Lucy said shyly, looking down at her lap. Donnie scoffed, \u201cOh, please. I\u2019ve heard you sing more than I\u2019ve heard myself sing, and\u00a0I\u2019ve only known you for two months.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay, guys hold on a second,\u201d Jack called out from his desk. \u201cLet me get this straight,\u201d Donnie and Lucy looked at him, \u201cDonnie, you\u2019re challenging Lucy to a sing-off?\u201d<\/p>\n Donnie grinned, \u201cThat I am, Jack. Your singing skills versus my drumming, Jack\u2019s the judge,\u201d he said, turning to look at Lucy.<\/p>\n \u201cFine,\u201d she huffed.<\/p>\n As Lucy started to sing, Jack jumped up from his desk and ran over to his camera equipment, quickly flicking his camera on to record video. There was something magical about Lucy when she sang, everyone around had to stop and listen. Maybe that\u2019s why two guys from across the hall, Oliver and Jude, stopped and listened from the doorway before bursting into applause.<\/p>\n \u201cSo, who won?\u201d Lucy blushed, glancing away from the two strangers whooping in the doorway.<\/p>\n Before Jack could choose a winner, Donnie said \u201cThere\u2019s no competition. You won because holy shit, you can sing.\u201d<\/p>\n Jack grinned, having captured the entire interaction on camera.<\/p>\n Lucy smiled, before looking into the lens. \u201cWell, next time you\u2019re mean we\u2019ll have this video to fall back on.\u201d<\/p>\n From then on, Sunday nights were for music.<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n \u201cWas there any drama in the band at all?\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDrama? Not really.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cYeah, we\u2019re a pretty non-dramatic group.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOkay then, any rough patches?\u201d<\/p>\n Lucy\u2019s eyes narrowed, \u201cYou\u2019re thinking of something specific, aren\u2019t you?\u201d Donnie sighed. \u201cDo we really have to bring this up?\u201d \u201cDo you know what he\u2019s hinting a- oh.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cThere was only one rough patch -\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDuring junior year\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n It was at the point in winter break that Jack was so anxious to get back to school and see his friends that he was going to go insane if he didn’t leave soon. Home was different when you returned from school for break. The first week or so was nice-the food was significantly better and the shower was more spacious. Jack got to see his dog, but then Christmas came and went, grades were submitted, and winter break started to lose its luster.<\/p>\n He was going a bit stir crazy, if we’re being honest. College had caused strain on the fizzling friendships from high school. Sure, he’d gotten dinner with some of his “friends,” but didn’t necessarily want to spend more time with them let alone go out of his way to sit at their house and watch Netflix and scroll on his phone, not when he could do the same thing at home by himself. He missed his friends from college-the friends he had made on his own, not the ones he had been stuck with growing up.<\/p>\n While Jack was practically itching to get back on campus, he was worried about how the semester was going to go. Donnie was studying abroad for the semester which meant he was going to be roommate-less.<\/p>\n When Donnie had first decided he wanted to study abroad, he figured his parents would be the ones he would have to reassure, not his friends. Yet it seemed like he was telling them every other day that things were going to be fine. It was starting to get on his nerves a bit.<\/p>\n “Yes, I’ll be okay. It’s only for three months. The band will be okay.”<\/p>\n The band was picking up in ways that none of them had imagined. More and more people were starting to notice them, and the comfortable idea that the band was just a pastime seemed to be fading away. Oliver suggested they put on more concerts, even tour.<\/p>\n “We could campus hop. Play small gigs in our friends’s college towns. Our demographic is people like us, anyways. So why not start local and spread out? Maybe something will catch on.”<\/p>\n So that was the plan. once the ground started to thaw a bit, they were going to travel around the state picking up gigs wherever they could.<\/p>\n Donnie was fully supportive of the idea, but there was one catch\u2014he was going to be abroad when all of this was starting.<\/p>\n “I don’t get why you can’t just not go abroad!” Lucy had exclaimed, growing more and more frustrated the closer Donnie\u2019s flight became.<\/p>\n “For the thousandth time, this is something I’ve wanted to do since before I even knew you guys. I’m going to do it. I’m sorry.” Donnie would tell her, but it wouldn\u2019t stick.<\/p>\n “Do you even care about the band at all?” She tested, feeling as if she was the only one who cared most of the time.<\/p>\n “You know I do.” He would remind her that it was his idea they start a band in the first place.<\/p>\n “I don’t understand how you could be so selfish. This is OUR dream.”<\/p>\n “Yeah, well travelling abroad has been a dream of mine for longer than being in this band has.” Donnie was getting tired of the recurring conversation, nothing would change. He was still going abroad, and Lucy still wasn\u2019t going to agree with him.<\/p>\n “If you stuck around and we made it, we would get to travel the world.”<\/p>\n “I’m not going to put everything on hold based on the slight hope that everything works out how we want it to when this is guaranteed.”<\/p>\n “So, you don’t believe in us?”<\/p>\n “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”<\/p>\n The arguments came and went all throughout the year. Lucy wasn’t even speaking to him at the point of his departure, except for the text before his flight that said: “I hope you have fun on your trip.” The falseness of the message made him feel worse than not speaking at all would have.<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n \u201cBut we\u2019re okay now!\u201d Donnie said quickly.<\/p>\n \u201cBetter than ever, to be honest.\u201d<\/p>\n \u2026<\/p>\n The thought of making a documentary about his friends hadn\u2019t crossed Jack\u2019s mind until their last semester of college. He and Donnie were laying out in the middle of the quad one night, as normal people do, staring up at the stars and feeling the cold dew soaking into their clothes, when Donnie said: \u201cI\u2019ve always believed in two things: fate and the power of music.\u201d<\/p>\n It was a phrase that stuck in Jack\u2019s head for weeks afterwards. His professors were always telling him that someone\u2019s work is better quality when they\u2019re working with something that inspires them, and nothing inspired Jack more than his friends and how they were pursuing their far-fetched hopes and out-of-reach dreams.<\/p>\n At that point, it only seemed natural to make a documentary about them.<\/p>\n …<\/p>\n \u201cMy name is Lucy, and I\u2019m lead vocals.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cDonnie, drums.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cOliver, I play guitar.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cJude, and I\u2019m the bassist.\u201d<\/p>\n The camera was shakily lifted off of the tripod and turned around. Jack\u2019s face filled the frame, eyes lit up with excitement, a small grin tugging at his lips.<\/p>\n \u201cHi, my name is Jack and these are my friends: Onyx and the Urchins.\u201d He hesitated, before reaching his hand past the lens and, with a click, the screen went black.<\/p>\n \n Rendering COMPLETE.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Emily Titsworth The blurred outline of a room becomes sharp and focused as the camera lens rattles and whirs. A woman in her mid-twenties is sitting in the middle of the frame. She stares directly into the lens before her gaze skirts around the room. \u201cDo you need me to do anything?\u201d She asks, looking Read More<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":14,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"template-full-width.php","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-217","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/13-2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/217","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/13-2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/13-2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/13-2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/14"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/13-2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=217"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/13-2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/217\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":400,"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/13-2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/217\/revisions\/400"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/euphemism.illinoisstate.edu\/13-2\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=217"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}