Thursday is by far the most mundane day of the week for Jack Frost.
He wakes up slowly when the sun is high in the sky and everyone else has been up for hours, rolling out of bed and running a hand through his messy white hair. Barefoot and still fully dressed in yesterday's garb, he grabs some cereal from the nearly-empty kitchen in his apartment, sitting at the table and listening to the neighbors yelling in a language he doesn't understand.
Yup, nothing out of the ordinary here. Thursday is, without a doubt, the most ordinary day of the week. Or so he thinks.
Jack's grown accustom to this way of living; sleeping in late, floating through the day until night falls and he can really start living. Tonight, like most Thursdays, he's got a small gig at a local bar. It's not much, but at least they're paying him enough to restock the shelves. Besides, he's not really in it for the money – or at least that's what he tells himself – he's in it for the music. He's never been much of a people-person, but when he's on stage he sure as hell knows how to connect to the audience. He's been told time and time again how happy his music makes people. Sometimes, he wishes he could harvest that power and use it outside of his musical career, but somehow the music seems to be key.
Oh well, he sighs to himself. At least he has the music.
It's already 2 in the afternoon, and he needs to be to the bar an hour before his show at 7. Jack knows he should be practicing, but anxiety is getting the best of him. It's just a bar, he knows that rationally, but rumor has it that every now and again producers like to pop up and spot new talents for their labels. Mostly smaller companies, but still, being signed could seriously help him along. Not that he needs it, of course not. "I'm doing perfectly fine like this." Jack says unconvincingly to the empty room as he flops down unceremoniously on his couch and flicks on the TV.
He's greeted by the faces of four famous musicians. One of them, a petite, pretty girl with hair dyed in just about every color of the rainbow, is speaking to and interviewer.
"We're not splitting, no, in fact, we're going to jump back in to action as soon as possible." She states with plenty of gusto. Jack raises an eyebrow. He'd been a little surprised when, about a month ago, Pitch Black, the singer of The Guardians had announced his retirement with little explanation. The guy always seemed like a bit of an asshole, so it wasn't really that surprising, but the band had been doing so well. They'd put out 3 chart-topping singles in a row, and they really showed no signs of slowing down until the incident. Still, it was a relief to hear that they were staying together.
"We'll be finding a new singer." The bassist and leader of the band, North, is saying. "We want to have a new start." His voice is deep and accented, and slightly intimidating, but still holds an air of friendliness. "We will always be the same band, but we want to find someone who will help give us a new perspective. After this hardship, we need to make music that will spread happiness, music that is... fun." He finishes rather inelegantly.
Jack's lips curl upward ever-so slightly. Fun, huh? He could see it happening. Some of their songs had an lighthearted easiness to them, the kind of song that Jack could easily relate too. He felt like Pitch had always been holding them back a little in that area, anyways. "Fun" somehow didn't seem the man's style.
A quick gasp escapes Jack's lips when the screen flickers to a new location. "Is that..." he wonders out loud, and then the announcer says in an awfully cheerful voice, "We're here with Pitch Black..." he doesn't even catch the rest of her words, because he's too captivated by the man himself. He sits tall, taller than usual that is, in the seat next to the interviewer, looking impossibly calm as he's surrounded by screaming fans. Dressed in all black, Jack is stricken by how very different he really is from the rest of his former band mates. He has a certain elegance that was never really noticeable before. Realizing that the man in question is speaking, Jack draws himself back to reality.
"I am not here to discuss the details of my choice." The dark haired man states smoothly in response to whatever he'd been asked. "But I most certainly intend to continue to pursue music." The crowd cheers, and Pitch's expression shifts very, very slightly into something not too different from irritation. "In fact, Nightmare entertainment has offered me a solo contract, which naturally I accepted. I will begin working on my solo album in the near future." This time, the crowd explodes. Jack's eyebrows are halfway up his head, and he quickly switches off the television. Not only had Pitch left the guardians, but he'd left them to join their label's competitor? A bold move, and kind of a dick move too, Jack decides. Not for the first time, he feels a moment of gratitude for his lifestyle. Being a major musician like that seems pretty damn dramatic. Shrugging the thought off and kicking his feet up onto his small coffee table, Jack lazily picks up his guitar and begins playing through one of his newer songs.
By the time 6 rolls around, Jack's barely made it to the bar. He arrives in a rather haphazard state, out of breath from the decision to walk the 2 miles between his apartment which he is now starting to regret. In a last-ditch attempt to look somewhat professional, he has thrown a blue button down shirt on over a pair of black jeans, but his hair is still unruly as ever. When he walks inside, heart still racing a little, he is met by a rather angry older man.
"You're late!" The man scoffs at Jack.
"I – what? You said-"
"Show starts in 5 minutes, get up there, okay?" the man cuts him off and storms off abruptly.
Jack blanches. He's used to having time to prepare, because despite the number of years he's been doing this, he's still very prone to stage fright. It doesn't help that there's a good turnout tonight. He recognizes some of the faces - "fans" perhaps, although it makes him a little uncomfortable to think of them as such. More than half of the people are probably here for the band that's playing after him, but it is a little reassuring to know that he won't be playing awkwardly to a small group tonight. The bigger the crowd is, he feels, the more they feed off each other's energy and the more fun he can have with it. On the other hand, he knows that a bigger crowd sets a higher expectation. There's this many people here because they expect something worthwhile, and although deep down he knows he can probably meet that standard, the thought is still unnerving.
Jack walks onto the stage, ears ringing as the crowd quiets down a little. He sits on a stool at a mic, casually, and smiles widely at the audience.
"Hi." He says awkwardly, "I'm Jack Overland." A few cheers and whistles come from the crowd, and Jack relaxes a little. This part always makes him a bit uneasy. He realizes with a jolt of panic that he doesn't know what song to play first.
Shit.
"Uh, this is, uh..." he pauses, then says the first thing that comes to mind. "This is a song that I wrote two days ago."
Well, at least it's one of his more upbeat songs.
He plays a few quick, jaunty chords, takes a deep breath, and starts singing softly.
I am wrecked. I am overblown,
I am also fed up with the common cold.
He pauses briefly, and then belts out the next few lines with as much gusto as he can muster.
But I just hate to say goodbye
To all the metaphors and lies
That have taken me years to come up with.
Jack smiles a little at that line. Half of his songs are just made up stories, not based on any personal events or feelings, partially because he doesn't have much of a "life" to speak of. He continues the song on with lyrics based on nothing whatsoever,
Say it's true. Say you like me
"I like you." someone in the audience tosses in, and Jack grins as he sings.
Just for the night,
for me, it's been eternity...
In reality, it could be anyone. He's been lonely most of his life, and he's not sure if anyone's actually said "i like you" to him. He panics for a second and realizes he can't remember the next lines. Glancing around the room, he improvises as he eyes a couple drinking lazily at a small table,
And as I gently sip this drink,
I think about my lack of future,
And all the places I could learn to fall in love.
He picks up the pace with his guitar, and he can see the audience getting into the flow. The lines seem to have worked, and he's finally settling into the music.
I know I shouldn't waste my time,
Wishing I'd been better designed,
yet for some reason still thinkI am wrecked. I am overblown.
I am also fed up with the fucking common cold!
When I just want to feel alive for the first time in my life,
I just want to feel attractive today!
The song ends abruptly, but the crowd loves it. Jack is grinning genuinely this time as he scans the audience looking for familiar faces, and he catches a glimpse of bright blue in the corner of his eye. On the edge of the audience, a man with blue hair is staring at him with intense focus. Jack squints, trying to recognize his face. He seems oddly familiar, but Jack can't quite put his finger on it...
And then it hits him. The man is with bodyguards, and more than a few people are throwing wide-eyed glances in his direction. That man is Aster Bunnymund, a guitarist for The Guardians.
What the fuck? Jack thinks to himself, eyes darting around the crowd, and he wonders if he accidentally said it out loud. The expectant glances from his audience tell him he probably didn't.
"Uh," Jack stammers again. "Thanks! This next song, on the contrary, is one of my oldest."
He's going to make it to the show, and then he's going to figure out exactly what one of the most famous musicians in the world is doing in a place like this.
Maybe it's not such an ordinary Thursday after all.
Song Used: Attractive Today by Motion City Soundtrack