While My Guitar Gently Weeps By Beatles Novels & Stories

She sat calmly at the breakfast table with everyone, holding his hand under the table and telling them it would be all right. The third show was another huge success, but it was marred by yet another incident. Tony Baez kept an acoustic guitar in the dressing room at each show. He played with it a little before they got ready for the night. Said it was his first guitar before he went electric and it had special meaning for him. When they entered the dressing room after sound check to wait for food to be delivered the guitar was lying on the floor in pieces. They all stared at it in shock.

I ask, looking up at Taylor. "Sure." He shrugs, starting to strum. I recognise Metallica's 'Enter Sandman', but it is unlike any version I have heard before. The music raises goosebumps on my arms, and I find myself singing along softly. As he finishes, he looks down at me with a soft smile. I find myself melting under his gaze.

"End of passion play, crumbling away; I'm your source of self-destruction; Veins that pump with fear, sucking darkest clear; Leading on your death's construction…" "Turn that off! Pleaaasseee…" She screamed. "You don't like the track of our favourite band. That can’t be the case." She could hear the sarcasm in Mike's words who was sitting on the armchair next to the sofa, still holding the drip. He turned the volume up. The characteristic guitar riffs and Hetfield's vocals reminded her of many painful memories. "Master of puppets, I'm pulling your strings; Twisting your mind and smashing your dreams; Blinded by me, you can't see a thing; Just call my name, 'cause I'll hear you scream…"

I can't help but laugh at her eager nature as I reach around and open up the guitar case and take out the Fender. "You're so bossy" I chuckle as I sit the Fender on my lap, testing out a few notes before launching into a quiet song. It's slightly out of tune, and I'm a little rusty, but bub wants a song so a song she'll get. And as it turns out, she loves an Elvis song.

I might not have been invited into her bedroom, but one of my band members sure as hell had. “What the fuck is that doing here?” I jutted my chin out. My teeth grinding together. Elodie looked around, confused. “What?” “Tate’s guitar.” I knew it was his. I knew because our bassist had won it from me in an ill thought-out wager that involved streaking down the city centre in Liverpool. “What the fuck are you doing with that guitar, Elodie?”

He couldn’t keep seeing her as cruel when I knew she wasn’t. Just then, one of the guitarists strolled closer, his fingers dancing along the strings. He played right in front of us, the notes spilling into the air like honey. The melody was so smooth, so hauntingly beautiful, that I closed my eyes and let it wash through me, drinking it in as if it were something holy.

Monday is gone. Tuesday is gone. Wednesday sneaks upon us like a thief. I’m the first one up in the house. I tiptoe to the door but the sound from Calum’s room stops me. He is playing his guitar. I listen for a few minutes, rocking myself back and forth. He’s strumming the chords to the song we will be singing later today. I want to think he’s doing it for me since I’m a tight ball of nerves. That we are fine. But I know better.

"Let's start?" I just noticed that Rose is beautiful. There's something about her that I can't name. Maybe her voice is just too sweet and doesn't hurt the ears. "If you know this song, join us. There are lyrics on the white screen if you don't memorize them. Is that okay?" Rouela asked. I smiled and nodded at her. My smile widened when both our gazes met. She smiled and nodded in acknowledgment that she noticed me. The team's guitarist started strumming. Then suddenly the drums accompanied the guitar and I was stunned for a moment. I love this upbeat kind of music. Ah, I've missed Vine. Upbeat music is one of the reasons why I stan them.

The tears I tried not to show but you can force a smile and not a tear. "It's okay to cry" I could hear Jake's voice in my head.The tears fell immediately. "Goodbye" I turned,walked slowly and then ran. **I'm trying to smile,to keep it going.But it's hurts so much**

My stomach twists. I pick it up carefully, adjusting the strap over my shoulder. Everyone goes quiet. Lyra notices immediately. “Blake?” “I just want to test something,” I say lightly. I position my fingers on the fretboard. The moment I press down— Pain slices through my palm. My fingers tremble. The chord comes out wrong. Muted. Off. I stop. Silence. I try again. Same result. My jaw tightens. Lyra steps closer, her expression shifting from playful to concerned. “Does it hurt?”