Ok, I got this idea a while ago. This phic will be like 'Dear Abby' except it will be 'Dear Erik' instead. Then Erik will answer your questions and help you with your problems. But if no one reviews, this story will flop, so please review!
The Law Offices of Erik Deven-Arion
Erik leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head. It was a slow day at the office. His last client of the day had just left, slightly mollified from her brief meeting with Erik. Her case was a simple one; she was charging her divorced husband with grand theft auto. Apparently there was some controversy as to whether the divorce document who could have the new car they hadn't finished paying off. Erik couldn't see why he couldn't just Punjab them both and keep the car for himself. How he got into practicing law, he didn't know. It just happened.
Erik glanced at the digital clock on his sturdy oak desk. It was five minutes to five. Time to go home. Erik gathered up his briefcase, looking out the window as he shrugged on his expensive coat. It was raining lightly. His coat would keep him dry. Erik walked out of his office and down the hallway, nodding a goodbye to the secretary at the front desk. He pushed the elevator button to go down to the parking garage under the law firm. The elevator door opened after only a moment's waiting, and Erik went in.
When he reached the garage floor, he waited some more as the parking valet picked up his car for him. He didn't have to wait long, as the valet knew Erik didn't like waiting for things. Erik got into his expensive black car and drove out of the parking structure, into the light rain that was falling over the city.
Erik switched on the radio as he waited at a stop light. He liked to be up-to-date on what today's masses considered music. Some boy band was playing a hard rock song about something or another; it was hard to distinguish words through the yelling and the loud drums. Erik detected a guitar and bass through the over-played ride cymbal of the drum set. He switched to a different radio station at the next stop light. This time it was a country station. A woman's voice came through the guitar chords, full of pain and unrequited love. Erik groaned. He didn't want to listen to someone's petty drama; he dealt with enough of those at work. He switched the channel. It sounded like a commercial for some new form of allergy medicine in Spanish. Erik quickly switched to the next station; he wanted music, not advertisements. This last radio station was the winner: a classical music station. Mozart's clarinet concerto graced Erik's ears. So it wasn't up-to-date, it was worthy of Erik's ears.
When Erik arrived home, he unlocked the front door and was greeted by his cat, Jumoke. Jumoke was a gorgeous Norwegian Forest Cat. Her coat was a tortoise-shell pattern of black, brown, orange, and white. Her divine green eyes and cute pink nose stood out among the chaos of her pelt. Jumoke meowed as Erik patted her on the head.
"Hello!" A voice called out from within the large house. Erik hung up his coat and took off his shoes. "I'm home!" Erik called back. He walked up the grand staircase to the master suite.
Strange as it seems,
There's been a run of crazy dreams
And a man who can interpret could go far,
Could be come a –
"Not again!" Erik muttered, as a song became stuck in his head. He sat on his king size bed and pulled off his socks, flinging them into the laundry hamper on his way into the bathroom.
Just for this moment
As long as you're mine
Come be how you want to
And see how bright we shine
Borrow the moonlight
Until it is through
And know I'll be here,
Holding you
As long as you're mine
"Make it stop!" Erik yelled, covering his ears as if it would stop these random songs coming into his head.
"What is it?" asked a young woman as she appeared at Erik's door. She was clutching a small pile of paper.
It's just, for the first time, I feel…
"Wicked girl! Don't come into my bedroom without knocking first! How many times do I have to tell you, Lirit?" Erik shouted at her.
Who do you think you are?
Barging in on me and my guitar?
Little girl, hey!
The door is that way!
"Sorry, Erik. What's wrong?" Lirit asked. Lirit was Erik's apprentice. She lived in the spare bedroom downstairs for free; in return for doing Erik's housekeeping and cleaning.
Erik sighed, making his way over to the upholstered chair next to the fireplace. "I keep getting all of these songs stuck in my head."
"Well, when I get a song stuck in my head, I start singing a different one and then go talk to someone to take my mind off of music for a bit." Lirit offered, sitting at the edge of Erik's bed.
Erik shot her a look. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."
Lirit was impervious to Erik's comment. "Well, then, this shouldn't be too bad!" she said, handing Erik the papers she had been holding. "I wrote a three movement guitar duet!"
Erik perused the score, following the lines of melody in his head. "Too repetitive, there's only a bridge in the third movement. You're lucky you didn't make these longer, or everyone would get sick of hearing the same bass line over and over. Sort out your genres. A swing melody next to a rock bit with a little classical influence on the side? It won't work."
Lirit huffed, "But I worked so hard on that! What if I didn't make it a three movement piece but three short etudes?"
Erik shook his head, "You're going to have to learn more about guitar yourself. You're barely proficient at it. You can't write a beginner's book if you still have more to learn."
Lirit stood and snatched her music away, "You think you know everything!"
Anything you can do I can do better!
I can do anything better than you!
Erik sighed as Lirit stormed off. "I still have a song stuck in my head!" he called after her.