The days are too short Warren thought as he layed on his couch. A songbook sat open next to him, his guitar laying against the wall, propped up by the corner. Warren flipped through the song he had just written, it took up four pages. It was also the most intimate, personal thing he had ever written. He looked at his stash of weed and almost lit up, but decided against it, he wanted to see this song through to the end sober. What nobody had ever told him, and what the song was about, was that no matter how elated you felt high, and how shitty you felt low, you always saw everything clearer sober. He looked at the untitled song, and quickly scratched a title across the top of the first page: IT'S ALWAYS BRIGHTEST BEFORE DUSK. For a while, all he could do was stare at the page, then he finally agreed with himself that that title was perfect for the song. He closed the book, and then dazedly turned on the TV.

He wasn't watching, but it was keeping him sane. He heard footsteps thud in drunkenly on the dock toward his house and knew that Ryan was coming. He opened the door before Ryan got there. Ryan looked even worse than usual. As he stumbled in, Ryan looked at him and said "Rough night, huh?"

Warren half-heartedly laughed "You and me both, buddy."

"Were ya gonna deal with it like usual?" Ryan inquired

"No, I have something to show you." Warren said, leading Ryan into the house.

Ryan was sitting behind his keyboard, looking at the song in front of him. He turned to Warren, who had taken out his Explorer and was plugged into a small, lo-fi amp, and said "So, how should I sing it?"

Warren rubbed his neck sheepishly and said "Well, that's the thing." He let out a sigh "I wanted to be lead vocals on it actually."

"Really?"

"Yeah..."

Ryan stretched "That's fine, you want to sing, then sing." He then began to play a beautiful electric piano solo, showing off his classical training. Warren then began to play a slow picking pattern in the same key. Ryan eventually settled into a ballad pattern on his keyboard. A thought passed through his head, He's about to pour his heart out, right here and now. Warren began to sing in a low, haunting melody that made Razorblades and Black Magic sound like a Justin Beiber song. The beginning of tears began to form in his eyes and that emotion came out in his voice. When he reached the chorus, the melody expanded, leaving the low notes for a more middle pitch. They were almost done with the chorus when Warren stopped them. He way openly crying right now, and Ryan got up to help him.

Ryan looked at Warren, and said "We've got a hit on our hands."