Jack lived in a lonely cabin in, literally, the middle of nowhere. He lived with his family, his dog and his music. He had no nearby friends, no nearby shops, and nowhere nearby to socialise, not that Jack did much of that anyway. The shell of trees that encased the house cast a permanent atmosphere of darkness throughout, and, even at midday, the lights would need to be on in any room you went in. Jack preferred this both literal and metaphorical isolation; it made everything so much clearer and provided a much more acute sense of perspective to everyday life. Apart from school, Jack would rarely leave his secluded bubble, but that was entirely out of choice; he was perfectly capable of cycling into town or walking to see a friend, he just chose not to. Instead he stayed at home, played video games and music. Those had always been two particular passions of Jack's. The video games ever since he got his first console, and music since as long as he could imagine.
Jack was what you could describe as a gifted musician. He played several instruments, however his outright favourite was the violin; it allowed him to freely express his passion and it felt the most natural in his hands; an extension of his body. If you ever pass close to that cabin you will most likely hear smooth and calming melodies leaking from the windows or angry and passionate pieces crashing through the serenity of the forest, it all depends on his mood at that moment. What begins as dissonant chords will often shape itself into a tumbling cadenza that Jack is almost always improvising entirely. Music is one of the most natural things for him, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
Jack hadn't left his room for the past 6 hours, but he didn't care. There was a certain section of his concerto that he just couldn't fix, a line or maybe two that constantly seemed to evade Jack's grasp of perfection. After failing for what seemed like the millionth time to him he grabbed the music and threw it down. He yelled in frustration, "You piece of SHIT".
He then proceeded to pack away his violin; he didn't trust himself not to break it considering the fit of rage he could feel coming over him. Normally he was okay dealing with failure, but after so much hard work on seven measly bars of intricate string crossing and shifts even Jack was starting to lose his patience. If you watched him now you would be able to see him shaking, because he wanted to tear something, throw something, break something, but instead he just sank down against the wall. You could see his body convulsing with every sob, but Jack was good at silent crying, because he'd had a lot of practice you see. His dark clothes contrasted with the white wall behind him, and he hated that. He hated a lot of things, but normally his music was not one of them. Anyone that knew Jack knew that he wouldn't be upset for long; he was exceptionally good at picking himself up. He decided to unpack his violin again, and play one of his own melodies and the calm rolled through the room, making him feel better. He could feel his heartbeat slow and his breathing no longer hitched, and the serenity of the forest was restored. Jack was happy again and the smile he let out was one that lot the room and made everyone around him happy too. With that he carefully loosened his bow and placed it in the case along with his violin. He ended his practice for the day, happy in general, but not happy with himself.
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Ayy look I've published my first fic with Jack in it, and I'm planning on including Mark in it soon but I'm not sure how regularly this'll be updated (I'll hopefully try for once a week, I'll update when this gets more reads so it feels worth it lol) but I'll see if this gets a decent response and I'll write the next chapter soon :) hope you've enjoyed
