����������� The dog days of summer were finally coming to a close.� The seemingly endless heat wave was dwindling down to a mere nothing.� Especially at nighttime.� When the moonlight lingered on the ground, the air was as crisp and cool as an autumn twilight.� Even though it was a month or so ahead of itself.� Darren sat in his bedroom on the second floor, trying to write a new song, but not succeeding.� Every time he thought he had something, he would lose his train of thought and ball up the paper and throw it in the wastebasket.� After a few hours of futile writing, the small trashcan on the floor accommodating the area at the corner of his desk was literally overflowing with small wads of manuscript.

����������� Since the temperature was just right, Darren had left the double glass doors to his balcony open.� His white translucent curtains were billowing in the gentle wind.� This is the perfect setting for a bunch of brilliant thoughts.� Why can�t I think of anything to write!� Darren started doubting his talents.� A little voice in the back of his mind reminded him that his writing ability seemed to go downhill after he and Daniel split up.� Not after Savage Garden separated.� After he and his paramour did.

����������� Bent down over the piece of parchment he was trying to get his thoughts about, Darren�s ears pricked up to the sound of footsteps coming from the sidewalk under his balcony.� Did I just hear what I thought I heard, or is my mind playing tricks on me�again?� His had heard these sounds often, but always came to the conclusion that his mind was just creating them.� This time, however, it wasn�t his mind playing tricks on him.� It was his soul.� Not so much the heart that was held inside his chest, but the piece of it that had been missing those three months that he and Daniel had been estranged.

����������� A few tiny pebbles made little crashing sounds as they landed inside on Darren�s pallid and cold tile floor.� They had meant to be thrown against the glass windows of the doors, but since those entries were open, the tiny pieces of gravel had failed their master.� Daniel stood on the walkway, his head looking up towards Darren�s bedroom.� I guess the doors are open.� They were usually so clean that they looked open.� Darren hasn�t changed a bit.� He�s still as obsessive over cleaning as always.� A reminiscent smile exploded over Dan�s face.� Darren apparently still held a large portion of Dan�s heart and soul.� Even if Dan didn�t believe it, and especially if Darren didn�t trust it.

����������� Darren debated on whether to check on who was outside of his window.� Half of his brain knew it was probably just some punk kids who like to torment other people.� The other half hoped that it was someone much sweeter, much nicer, and who shagged like a minx.� Barely breathing, Darren got up off of his chair, not making a sound.� He tiptoed over to the open door and slowly peaked his head out, but just barely.� His beautiful blue eyes glanced over the railing to see his beloved Daniel standing uncomfortable on the pathway.� Dan however, did not see Darren stick his head out of the door.

����������� Tears began to form in Daniel�s green eyes.� I guess Darren really doesn�t still love me.� I was hoping�� Daniel started to slowly walk away; his hopes that Darren would take him back were dashed.� Darren, in the meantime, had fallen backwards onto the wall, it holding up his weight as he slid down to a seated position.� He wanted to stop Daniel from running away, but at the same time he never wanted to see him again.� It was his fault for their big blowup, anyway.� Not Darren�s.� It was never Darren�s fault.� Never.