Description
Dear Lauren, I thought I knew jazz until I met you. Musicians know of the conflict of us being together as they do with their instruments. Playing ourselves while trying to flow beautifully at the same time to the music around us. It gave it a whole new meaning. But then somewhere along the way, I guess I just got caught up in a genre that wasn't ours. It stole me away from you and I let it. You must understand the piano keys I call drugs; the lights are the highs you want to stick to, but you forget the darks are the lows that come with it. You have to play them both. I lost myself in those keys that didn't contain a single one that would bring me back home to you. And for that, I am sorry. But, darling, I swear, I can still hear the jazz in the distance. -Camila
Chapter 1: Can I Buy You A Drink?
