With his eyes closed, Gary sat at his big piano and tried to write a few new songs. To his suffering, however, he didn't want to think of anything. In his head was only absolute emptiness. It was as if he were hovering in a vacuum-filled room, where he was deprived of every conceivable idea. There was every idea that came to him, like the breath he needed to live. But the more he clung to some ideas, the more he lost breath and so he threatened to stifle ideas. ...Did the ideas for potential hits out of him?
As he fell into a deep hole, he forgot everything around him and did not react with any of his body's fibers to his surroundings. Not even when the door bell sounded and so a visitor announced. But fortunately the visitor, he didn't have to wait long before the door was opened and gave him entrance. The visitor asked if Gary was there and he could go to him. Which of course he agreed with, and that Gary was in his music room.
After not even a minute, the visitor stood in front of the said room, knocked briefly, and since he still didn't get an answer after twenty seconds, he finally entered the room unintentionally. His gaze glided over to Gary, and he saw the man sitting motionless in his face with both hands.
"Gary? ...Is everything all right with you?" He asked cautiously, in a somewhat reserved voice.
But Gary didn't answer and showed no emotion. If the visitor did not know it better, the latter could easily think that he had become a statue that couldn't see himself anymore. The visitor stepped to Gary's side, laid a hand on his shoulder and called him again by his name. Thereupon Gary shrugged, startled with a stifled scream.
"Hey. Chill out. It's only me," Gary's visitor tried to prevent a possible heart attack, where words could not help much.
Gary looked up at him and tried to get his so too fast beating heart, which almost painfully against his chest beat, to a soothing and normal level again down.
"Jesus Christ, Jay. ...Do you have to scare me like that? Because of you, I almost had a heart attack," Gary whispered more than his lips and laid a hand on the chest to calm down.
"Sorry, that wasn't my intention ...but you did not respond to my attempts to speak to you. ... Is everything okay with you? " Jason, Gary's band colleague, asked for his well-being and tried to explain that he did not want to scare him.
After Gary had finally calmed down, he rubbed his hand over his weary eyes, and breathed out loudly once.
"I cannot complain, except for the fact that I do not want any new material for any songs," Gary told his friend that in his head there was only absolute emptiness and then asked about his intentions, "And what leads you here?"
"Oh, I was just around and I thought I could make a little trip to you." Jason had no reason to visit him.
"In short, you just want to say hello," Gary understood immediately.
"That's how you can express it. ...But as I see it, I'm probably right."
"You said you what. I have not even the slightest idea what I could write, neither for Take That, for myself, nor for other artists. ...It's like I'm stuck in a black hole where I cannot even help myself out." Gary admitted that he felt lost in the moment.
"So bad?"
On this question, Gary once nodded briefly, looking at the ground with a slightly empty and no less shameful look. The last time he had felt so much more than ten years ago when no one wanted to work with him anymore and he was in the midst of his deepest crisis. But in contrast to that time, he was more in demand today than ever. A few years ago, he was even honored as the best songwriter in the UK ...and then even before music such as Paul McCartney or John Lennon. He was now exposed to a major pressure that he now had to withstand. But at the time it was simply impossible to do justice to it.
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A Road Trip Into The Unknown - Take That FF (in English)
FanfictionTake That FF - Gary has a huge problem. He sits in a terrible writing block, where he cannot think of anything. Since Gary had already tried everything to get out of it again, he took a suggestion of Jason one day, whereby he could return to the...