Hello fellow fanfictioners and Hijakers. If you've been led here by an alert email from following me due to my other unrelated stories, I apologise. I know I haven't updated any stories in, like, half a year but meh, I'm pretty lazy. Anyway, I'm quite hyped about this pairing at the moment and the plot bunnies keep attacking me in the middle of the night. Please tell me what you think, I might even continue it if people enjoy it. PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME KILL THIS STORY.
Keep Writing,
626 (Yes, I have changed my name, sorry)
He'd heard of it before; heard of it, but not the thing itself. The perfect sound. What musicians searched for, yearned for, dedicated their lives to finding but so often failed to do so. He'd learned of its beauty and its rarity from those who'd experienced it but never imagined it like this.
He stared at the stage and lost himself in the perfect sound. He concentrated – a rare occurrence for his easily distracted mind – on the structure. He knew music. It was his life; he deemed nothing of higher importance. This he thought to himself was the most utterly perfect thing he'd ever encountered. He decided he wanted it; he needed it. His natural instinct to grasp at the momentary perfection and freeze it in time was burning him and he had to physically ground himself. Even in his singularly concentrated state he knew he'd look mad if he ran up on stage and stole the source of the beauty.
He shifted his attention to the said source. An unlikely character if ever he'd seen one. The boy on stage was sitting over a simple black piano. He looked particularly unremarkable but his stage presence was almost overwhelming. He was lanky and small, compared to the raised space he was positioned on, dark hair, unbranded clothes. He certainly wouldn't stand out in a crowd but he was true. Raw. He was perfect.
And Jack needed him.
There, short but sweet and I hope you enjoyed :)