16-year-old Tom sat at his desk, tapping his pen at the edge, staring hard at the blank lined page of his notebook. It was only 4pm, but the sky was filled with threatening clouds, making Tom's room dark and gloomy, except for the dim glow of his desk lamp. It had only been an hour since he sat down, ready to come up with something--a song, a line, maybe just even a word--but so far, nothing actually came up.

He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and brought the edge of his pen to the top line of the page, hoping something would flow out, when his cell phone began playing with a melody he had made up. His eyes shifted towards the phone, then back to the page. It continued to ring, but he continued to ignore it. He always put his music before his phone calls, unless it was someone who had music-related business; then his phone would play to the tune of “Pinball Wizard.” Sighing, he set his pen down leaned back. His focus switched to his school friends. He thought about calling up his best friends, maybe James Bourne wanted to hang out, or maybe Lia Thompson..

Lia. He last saw her over a month ago, when she celebrated her and her boyfriend's 6-month anniversary. He was glad to see how happy she was, despite finding out that her parents filed a divorce not long before that. He wondered how she was now....

That was when his phone rang. He checked the caller ID. "Well, whaddya know.." he said to himself, smiling as he picked up the phone and answered it. "Lia, darling! What's the matter? Can't even strike up a chat with your best mate-?"

But instead of a heart-filled laugh, he heard sobbing on the other end. His smile quickly wore off. "Lia..?"