Like Water for Chocolate Four

From Chapter Four


“Hurt and Run”
Lyrics by Gretchen Thomas and Magdalena Mallone
Music by Gretchen Thomas, Magdalena Mallone, and Moonshine

They warn you ‘cause they’ve seen it coming a million times
Those damn songs tell it straight in a million rhymes
And just when you think it’s gonna stray from pattern
All before you can blink your heart’s splattered all over the wall

You say you love me, love me, love me
And I somehow I believe

You’ve got my heart in your hands
You’re trying to hurt me aren’t you?
Aren’t you?
You think I don’t know, don’t understand
You’re gonna hurt me and take off running

I can see it now, like I saw it happening again and again
Instant replay, one moment looped out of control
And just when you think you’ve escaped the torment
Love strikes back, sucks you into that same old uncertainty

You say I was the only one for you, only
Why did I believe? (Silly me)

You’ve got my heart in your hands
You’re trying to hurt me aren’t you?
Aren’t you?
You think I don’t know, don’t understand
You’re gonna hurt me and take off running

It’s too late for getting on your knees
You think that’s gonna get you mercy
Don’t you?
You think I won’t take my heart back
Keep it for someone more worthy
Don’t you?
“I’ll never hurt you” my ass
You’re trying to hurt me, aren’t you?
You’re trying to hurt me, aren’t you?
You’re gonna hurt me and take off running
Aren’t you?

You’re trying to hurt me, aren’t you?
Aren’t you? Aren’t you?
Aren’t you?

“Hello”
Lyrics by Gretchen Thomas and Magdalena Mallone
Music by Magdalene Mallone and James Sharp

Blind
How could I have been so blind?
Fooled like a child peering at a pinwheel
Spinning in rapid turns
The colors melding into one
Iridescent hue

Here I am now with one regret
That day some years ago
I wish you’d never said hello
I wish you had walked on by
Leaving me to my life
But instead you came in, said hello to me

And now
How am I gonna get through this?
Sick like child on a rollercoaster ride
Violently up and down
The world blending into this
Inconstant blur

Here I am now with one regret
That day some years ago
I wish you’d never said hello
I wish you had walked on by
Leaving me to my life
But instead you came in, said

I’ve become what I’ve spent all my years trying not to become
All this time I mistakenly believed you and I were one
I was so loyal, deeply loving you with my guileless loyalty
But you took advantage and trampled all over me
So it doesn’t matter if you offer some kind of sorry for it
Because I can’t go back to the way I loved you before this
You lied to me, had many chances to tell me the truth
And now I don’t know what are lies and who are you

Here I am now with one regret
That day some years ago
I wish you’d never said hello
I wish you had walked on by
Leaving me to my life
But instead you came in, said

Here I am now with one regret
That day some years ago
I wish you’d never said hello
I wish you had walked on by
Leaving me to my life
But instead you came in, said hello to me

Tears burn in my eyes
But no, I’m not going to cry
Words burn in my throat
And yes, you are going to know
The edges of every single frigid word I have to tell
So here’s what I have to give for all these years
It’s goodbye, sleep tight, wouldn’t wanna see you in Hell
Oh no, it’s hello in reverse
I want you to take it back
Like we never were

Gretchen stared at the printed sheet in her hand and sighed. It had been five months since her failed date with Orlando, and she found that the best she could do for herself was scribble songs about heartbreak and sing them inside an enclosed booth in front of the people who had suddenly become her closest friends.

She had been holed up at James Sharp and Isidore Corcoran’s Heathrow recording studio for nearly three months. She had gotten the idea to write some songs during her first month of Orlandolessness, and during the second month, she had bumped into Max Harris, Samantha’s former fiancé. Apparently, her dead cousin had composed some songs that she had secretly bequeathed upon Gretchen. With those compositions, she decided to start recording her own album. It was a bittersweet feeling to be making music on her own, but her beloved cousin had once said, Music heals. End of story.

Beside her, dark-haired Mag Trio-member Magdalena Mallone, better known as Maggie, pulled her feet up under her and said, “James came in this morning before you got here and re-recorded the violin part in ‘Hello.’ He said it didn’t sound expressive enough to match your singing. It sounds better now, I think. Gave me bleeding chills. You’re going to hear it, aren’t you?”

Gretchen chuckled sardonically. “I don’t want to hear it right now. Maybe later when I’m feeling better.”

Maggie was a woman of her words, and she didn’t mince them, even when she should. “You’re still not broken up about that one bloke are you? Because if you are I’d have to say you’ve lost your bloody mind.”

Gretchen picked up the spiral notebook in which she had been writing songs and spoke hastily. “Well it sucks that angst makes the best music. Maybe we should lay down the track for ‘Dictionary’ today…”

It was cowardly. Yes, she knew she was avoiding the subject at hand, but she’d grown accustomed to the degree of oblivion that had separated her from hair-pulling, shrieking-at-the-top-of-her-lungs agony. Maggie didn’t say anything to the beginning of her statement as she thought she would, and they moved to the recording booth.

It was nearly midnight when Gretchen was satisfied with the song and another she and Maggie had written called “I Wanna Be Loved.” She had been so ready to throw herself back into her work that she took no heed of the time, took no heed of the hunger in her belly. Once she had come down from her high, she decided she would stop somewhere to eat.

“Gretchen? Is that you?”

Gretchen froze involuntarily at the sound of the familiar female voice. Underneath the black winter cap and the green scarf wrapped around the bottom half of her face, she figured she would be unrecognizable.

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