My Melody Aesthetic Novels & Stories

Melody said. " Thanks!! I feel a lot better now" Vic said happily. "It's almost time, we need to head to the Hall" Melody shouted as she rose up from her seat to dress up normally, when Vic lifted his eyes, he was stunned by her beauty. "Oh, she's like a moon at day." Vic thought as he looked at her, making him feel like hugging her. But he quickly snapped out of it. "So, do your ability cause hindrance to other abilities?" Melody asked, as she noticed that Vic was looking at her like some kind of armed robber.

“I don’t want to butt in. It’s not my place. I just… more than one person has mentioned to me what a beautiful voice you have, how talented you are, and I guess I’m just sad that Michael, and I haven’t gotten to hear for ourselves.” Melody stared at him for a moment, not quite knowing what to say. “Music is something my father and I shared. Without him there… it’s like a song without a beat. Like a bunch of disjointed chords that clash when they come together. I hear music in everything, but none of it sounds like a song.”

“Sugar? No? It’ s...” “What about my coffee, William?” Melody was interrupted by the voice of a man who had just arrived. Her morning couldn’t get any worse. First the vomiting like she was sick, and then the coffee machine slowing down all her work. She was a walking hazard, her hair disheveled, for with the constant walking in the coffee shop, carrying plates and coffee back and forth, several strands of hair had come loose from her tail. Melody was not an exuberantly beautiful woman, she did not captivate at first glance, she did not consider herself to be in a magazine by any stretch of the imagination, but what she did have were beautiful gray eyes and waist-length jet-black hair. Her

Auggie entered and he also found a note. "Find your real melody." The note has the handwriting of a child or maybe the one who wrote the messages has that kind of handwriting. "How can I find my real melody if the notes are in the wrong positions. How can I start to draw if there are no markings? I believe that I can get through all of these, but I am ruining myself. I feel like the Dot is not the antagonist, maybe it is the real protagonist trying to stop me from being who I want to be. Being perfect and liked by others," I uttered.

Those three words, those ever powerful three words fill the ache in my soul and I let out a relieved breath, my eyes shutting in momentary peace before I look down at him "Why do you have to make everything you say sound so beautiful?" There's no answer for that, but Mel gives one anyway "I don't know" I cup his cheeks as he nestles into my hand, his eyes never leaving my face. The truth was, I'm many things. Destructive. Impulsive. Narcisstic. But I'm not a giver. I take. People's emotions, people's peace, people's joy, until there's nothing left. And Mel is the exact opposite of that. He GIVES.

Music became the language through which I could convey my deepest joys and sorrows. So I will be playing the melody of Dandelions by Ruth B. My fingers trembled with anticipation as I pressed the first key, producing a sound that seemed foreign and discordant. It was clear that my touch was not enough to produce the harmonious melodies I had envisioned. Undeterred, I continued to press each key, determined to improve the synchronicity of the notes and create a beautiful composition.

"Adrian—" "I have to," I told him, and I freed myself from his hold. The recording studio office complex towered over me, the epitome of every dream I had ever had for myself. Under the oppressive, gray sky, steel and glass sparkled—the type of place something miraculous was bound to happen. My heart racing, I walked into the room with my notepad pop in my hand as if it were a token of pride.

I opened them and stepped inside, closing them behind me for some privacy. “Oh, hi…” I heard Melody say as I turned. My breath was immediately taken by the sight in front of me. Melody truly looked like a goddess like I called her; one that had just stepped out of the inky blue night sky. Her dress showed off her curves in the most delicate way, accentuating her slight waist and ample chest and hips; her hourglass figure on full display. I could see the slip give hints to her long and pale legs, like moonbeams peaking through the clouds. Her hair was curled like a Greek Goddess, giving her face an ethereal beauty; something that could not be touched by the marring of time. “Wow.” I finally b

"If you understand this much, why do you still bother him?" Melody said, "Do you think I don't know what I'm doing? I just want to take a good look at him. After all, it's hard to come across such a stunning man. So when you do, you should appreciate it to the fullest. Just like when you pass a place and there's a particularly beautiful flower by the roadside, you'd definitely stop to take a few more glances."

The signature space for the second party was left blank, waiting for me to take the bait. My reflection in the glass showed how pale I was, like I was a corpse. We had been married for eight years. I had spent the best years of my life in the Hart household to repay what I owed. The day I carried my suitcase into the villa, I had learned how to take care of him, leaving a night-light on when he came home late from social dinners. The fingers that had once been able to play world-class music were coated with kitchen grease. I had done all of that.