M A N I F E S T || MJ

3.

Jaden King.

Jaden King's pen taps rhythmically against the pages in his journal, sounding to a beat only he could hear. A small smile starts to come to his face before it drops and he shakes his head fast, crossing out words in a fast smooth scoop and then sucking his teeth after. He leans back in his desk chair and runs a brown hand through coiled locks, ignoring the urge to yank them straight out of his head.

He looks back down at his journal and starts to mumble to himself. He bobs his head to the fixed beat in his mind and begins to speak the words he's already written.

"It's the coolest of the coolest, it's the smoothest of the smoothest, it's the crudest and the rudest of the stupid kids. Mr. Vicious with his misses, blowing kisses to his mistress, and he misses, blowing riches like some hooligans." Jaden stops, clearing his throat and finishing the rest in his head. Maybe it would sound better if he played the tape that went with it.

He stands up and walks over to his bed, unzipping his book bag that was previously discarded and ruffling through the pockets. After a moment his fingers latch on a square object and he pulls it out, raising the small black cassette up into the air. He goes back to his small desk and fiddles with the cassette player, opening the slot and sticking the tape in. It rewinds itself and he presses play when it was time, pushing the volume button several times so that the music was now flooding through his room.

Was it loud? Yes. Did he care? No. Jaden moves his head left and right, right and left; screaming words with his mind that he has yet to say out loud. He swears that in this moment an euphoric feeling comes over him and he actually pauses as shivers runs through his body. He finds that he actually likes the sensation however and grins, drumming on the desk in time to the beat to add the bass. And then he goes crazy with it.

Not too long after his bedroom door was thrown wide open and slammed against the wall. He was in the midst of jamming out but still swivels to see his younger sister standing there with her lips pursed and her hair sticking straight up like usual. He grins at her and she narrows her eyes, coming in and taking a seat on the bed. Willow motions for him to pause the music and he does, waiting for her to speak.

She doesn't disappoint. "Is there a point to this? All I hear is that same beat, playing over and over." Willow wasn't really annoyed, he can tell by the way she was looking at him curiously.

Jaden nods his head, reaching his long arms into the air and stretching. His nose twitches in excitement. "It's part of the creative process." He tells her.

Willow doesn't seem to know what he means and scrunches her face up, crossing a slim leg over her left one. "What creative process? Are you writing a song?" He supposes it wasn't a stupid question.

He shakes his head and hands her his lyric journal so that she could see what he was talking about. She takes it and takes a moment to read over his messy scrawl before she look back up.

"Why is it--these aren't lyrics. Well they are, but it doesn't flow like a song would. There's not even a hook, it's just--"

He cuts her off. "--That's because it isn't a song. It's something better." He adds a little mystery to his voice, just so that she'd ask for more details.

Willow waits for him to continue and when he doesn't she sighs, used to his dramatics. She waves her right hand in the air and widens her hazel-brown eyes like she was so interested in what he had to say.