"Why are lyrics so fucking hard to write!" Jack angrily said to himself. He'd been stuck on the same line in this song for weeks now, desperately trying to get past it, constantly writing a lyric, scribbling it out because it sounded bad, writing another lyric, scribbling that one out too in frustration. Heck, even the music itself sounded bad to him now, he'd heard the same bar of notes too much to like it anymore.
For anyone else, it'd make sense to just pack it in and start fresh. But Jack was nothing if not a stubborn man, and he'd already shown the client he was writing this for the first draft and they loved it, so he couldn't turn back now. He'd rather die than admit defeat, especially to one pathetic line of one pathetic song.
His friends had been suggesting for days now that he just take a break, and as much as he didn't want to, and definitely didn't want to prove them right, he had to agree that a break would probably help his head start working again. So when his friends, Alex and Jonah, invited him out for drinks one night, while he still refused, he did take a break as suggested. Intentionally making sure to walk away from the city centre, knowing there'd be a higher chance of encountering them there, he set out for a late night walk and some fresh air.
Itd been about 30 minutes of walking when he heard it. A faint strumming of a guitar, playing the exact notes of the song he had written. For a minute, Jack just stopped, baffled and convinced he was going mad. Only the client had heard if so far, and even then theyd only heard an early version, but this was almost exactly how the guitar sounded in his song now. He pinched himself, and could still hear it. He covered his ears, it went silent. But again, as soon as he removed his hands from over his ears, he could hear it again. Baffled and honestly a little scared, he started inching towadds the direction he believed the sound was coming from.
He walked for about 30 more minutes, convinced he was going mad because it seemed no matter which direction he went, the sound never got any louder or quieter. He must be going insane, he thought, and the realisation broke him for a second. Weeks of hard work, weeks of being stuck and wanting to scream and punch his computer and destroy everything in his house over this one line and then the ONE time he goes for a break, its still there, taunting him, hurting him. Maybe he just wasn't cuf out for all this. Maybe-
A sudden cold sharp feeling. He curled into it in pain, his chest feeling like it had just been stabbed by an icicle. He gasped in shock and pain. Everything felt wrong. His chest was fine, nothing visibly wrong, maybe he was having some sort of chest issue?-
There it was again, in his arms this time. A yelp escaped his throat as he felt it in his legs this time too, collapsing to the ground. Then, as sudden as the pain started, it stopped. Jack sat there in silence for a few minutes, breathing heavily, before he realised.
The song had stopped.
Maybe he really was going insane, or maybe it was something else, but for some unknown reason the lack of that song terrified him. Like a primal, instinctual fear, goosebumps all over his body as he started to breathe even heavier panicking as-
"It's okay, lad"
He looked around quickly, trying to figure out who spoke. "Who's there? Don't come near me, I'm armed!" He shouted, voice trembling.
"Shhhhh, lad. Calm. You're safe with me, fam."
"I'm warning you, I'll-"
"What, gasp me to death? You won't do anything mate, now calm the fuck DOWN." The last word reverberated through him, and Jack obeyed. Without even trying, he was suddenly calm again. The voice didn't give him chance to speak before talking again.
"You need help, lad. I can tell. You need a lad like me to show you how to LIVE, ey? Well, I can help with that."
Jack nodded, accepting the voice's words. He hadn't noticed it yet, but his arms were moving on their own. He was too enraptured by the voice to know what was happening outside his own head.
"That's a good lad, look at those arms. Definitely good, but could use some work, ey? GROW 'em for me lad."
His arms obeyed, somehow growing and pulsating larger, the muscles more and more defined by the second. His arms were groping his chest, and legs, rubbing all over his body and he shuddered uncontrollably.
"Now then, let's put a SMILE on that face, ey?" Jack grinned in response, "Muchhh better lad. Though ya could do with a beard eh? Make ya manlier, BETTA." His beard immediately grew in, framing his jaw perfectly.
"Good.... goooodd. Lookin better already. Now, go get that guitar will ya lad. Can't play a masterpiece without ya instrument after all." Almost like a zombie, Jack stood, moving on autopilot to the window of the guitar shop across the road. Without even hesitating, he slammed his fist through the window, the alarm not bothering him at all, as he grasped the guitar firmly and confidently, slinging it into position and starting to mess with the strings, tuning it. As he did, he heard the voice start moaning and laughing in ecstasy as he played, his body pulsing, growing, changing. His legs became two solid blocks of steel, powerful and standing strong, as his ass became firmer and rounder, befitting of a sex god like him. His chest expanded, lungs growing stronger, letting him belt out songs easily, as his voice deepened, changing to be sexier, sultrier, cockier. Abs growing in, shoulders broadening, neck thickening. "Fuckkkkk..." he moaned as his adam's apple grew larger, his voice sounding incredible. The moaning voice merged with his own, both echoing inside his head, until they were one, and the same. Hearing the sirens of police cars wailing in the distance, no doubt headed to stop his theft of the guitar, he sprung into a run, sprinting faster than ever before away, into the night. Jack the burned out songwriter was gone, and now, Jack the rockstar was gonna take his place on the stage, in the limelight, fucking and rocking his way to superstardom. His phone buzzed as he ran, a text from Jonah. "Hope you're doing well man, sorry you couldn't make it." Jack smirked to himself. He could do with a bandmate or two, and now he knew just the targets...
One thats been on the list for a while to come out, and potentially the start of a new series! The attic clear out stories are still on their way, just taking a break from them to write some personal stuff.