Eddie Munson One Shots

We Speak For The Freaks

Another day of work, you buried your face in your hands as you slumped over your desk. Writing while working on your third cup of coffee, the article you were writing was so close to being done but it felt like you had nothing left. You moved to New York City to be a journalist, but being at this magazine company was more daunting than expected. You enjoyed meeting celebrities and doing interviews, but it felt old, superficial. "Hey, y/n!" Your coworker Bella knocks on your doorway, you shoot her a tired smile. "What now? Another celebrity to exploit?" You say as she lets out a dry chuckle. "Not really 'exploit', but an interview with this new band!" She says, dropping a cassette onto your desk.

In dark, bold lettering the mixtape said "CORRODED COFFIN" and the song list was rather, edgy. "Ever heard of them? They're the newest up and coming metal band. They agreed to an interview to promote their U.S. Tour!" She smiled, sitting on the edge of your desk. "And you get to do the interview." She said as she poked your shoulder. You rolled your eyes, "Why do I have to? You know I hate the snobby celebs." You groan but she lets out another giggle. "Because they're still new! And.. the lead singer is soooo dreamy." She said admiringly. "You might actually find someone." She ruffles her eyebrows, making you laugh. "Yeah, right." You say flatly.

"Come on, y/n! Just do this for me, pretty please?" She pleads incessantly, making your ears shrivel up until you give in. "Okay fine! but if this band ends up being a bunch of snobby metal guys, don't expect a nice article." You murmured, she just nodded. "I know, I know. The lead singers name is Eddie Munson, remember that for later. Here's your VIP ticket to their show tonight, the interview is in the green room after. The car will pick you up from your place at eight, got it?" She said as she dropped a laminated badge with a lanyard. "Have fun! Get some good scoops!" She chimes as she strolls back out. You stare at the badge and sigh, "Yep, let's hope this doesn't crash and burn." You say to yourself as you grab your keys to go home.

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When eight rolls around you strolled out of your apartment as the big black SUV is parked outside and running. You hop in the back, saying hello to the driver as you made your way to the venue. When you got there you were greeted by security, who lead you to the front row of the show, you got there when the opening band was playing, your attention wasn't really on them, it was on your note pad as you describe the environment around you,

'The venue was packed to the brim with metal heads and mosh pits. It smells like cigarettes and nights you won't remember.'

The lights dim and your eyes meet the stage. as the bright spotlight abruptly lit, there stood the most beautiful man you had ever seen. He has big, curly brown hair. His shirtless torso was covered in tattoos and he wore the tightest fitting, black, distressed jeans. It left nothing to the imagination. You stood in shock, taken aback by the way this man could dominate a stage. His command for attention and showmanship struck you as something special. In his hands were a black and red warlock, it reflected off the stage lights to look so beautiful as this man played it. It hit you when you remembered Bella telling you his name.

Eddie. Munson.

He stood at five foot ten and his fingers waltzed up and down the fret board expertly. You noticed that he always closed his eyes when he began to sing, it became apparent to you that he was something special. The whole band was, there were four total. One front man for singing and lead guitar, another guitarist, likely rhythm guitar, a bassist and drummer. They all looked like they were having the time of their lives, every song they played was like they genuinely loved what they were doing. So you scribbled a little more,

'Though metal isn't my preferred music, I find myself being captivated by Mr. Munson's performance. He is truly an expert in his field, and he looks like he's in his element when he plays.'