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You're Nobody's Producer

The glow of the old school CRT monitor cast an almost sacred light on our faces, and later the Philips TV, the screen for a digital aurora in the box-room. I remember the specific thrum of the PlayStation, the click of its disc drive, and the rhythmic, almost hypnotic sequence of button presses as I meticulously layered beats and melodies. This was for his GCSE music project, a task he’d presented with a shrug and an almost imperceptible plea for help. He didn't do or say much; he rarely did. He just sat there, knees pulled up to his chest on the floor, watching me, a silent, still observer as I sculpted a rudimentary track from the limited palette of an early 2000s music creation game. His presence was like a barely perceptible hum in the room, a quiet witness to the genesis of something out of nothing. I remember thinking, in that precise moment, that he was involved. Not creatively, not actively, but his quiet watchfulness, his unblinking gaze, felt like a silent endorsement, ...
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Build Me Up, Buttercup



Jordan and Michelle transcended onto the grass, their lush green canvas a stark contrast to the weight of the conversation they were about to embark upon. The buttercup, a cheery little flower, stood nearby, seemingly eavesdropping on their exchange, until joining in with their connection. As they spoke, its bright yellow petals glistened in the sunlight, mirroring the innocence of their discussion. As others commuted nearby them, an external tension lingered, and unawareness hinted at deeper emotions tangled in their hearts. 
It was a moment where innocence collided with the external complexities of their relationship, and the questions loomed large: Did anyone notice the subtle shift in their dynamic? Perhaps it was time for Jordan to consider a change in girlfriend, at least in the eyes of those who might intervene or speculate about their bond. The whispers of doubt among their friends and family seemed to hang in the air like the sweet fragrance of spring, and the buttercup, in its simple beauty, bore witness to it all.



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