Middle of the Week Motivation

The Magic of Music

Pale fingers tapped against the black fabric of Jacks jeans as he sat in the band room, waiting for his friend to finish his class. The room was dark and all was silent, minus the music that bounced around in the green haired man's head. The only light was that which came from the hallway, entering in the open door. No one was in the hallway, in fact, no one was in the building. Most classes were over at this point in the day. But here sat Jack, his blue eyes flickering around the empty room, staring at nothing in particular as he waited for Mark. Mark was an overachiever, to say the least, taking 18 credit hours the semester, but only after being denied the option to take more. Jack on the other hand, looked at college as a time to mess around and hang out, to explore the world with safety of having somewhere to go at the end of the day. So Jack only took 15 credit hours, therefore leading him to the situation he was in now.

The song he was listening to changed, a new set of music coursing through his earbuds and into his ears. Suddenly, Jack got the urge to dance. He tried to tell himself not to, but he couldn't sit still, so he lept to his feet, walking around with a slight bounce in his step. Finally, he couldn't resist the urge anymore, shoving chairs off to the side so he had space, suddenly not caring about how they looked. Drums started up in the background, Jack practically running over and grabbing the drumsticks, beginning to play along with the music. It was at this point Mark had made it over to the band room from his class, a few buildings over, starting to call out Jack's name only to cut himself off at the sound of the drums. He cautiously entered the room, leaning on the door frame and letting his backpack slip off his shoulders into the ground next to Jack's. He'd let Jack know he had arrived once he was done playing.

Jack didn't notice his friends presence, or surely he would've stopped, but he was to caught up in the music to notice his raven haired friend admiring him from the doorway. Oh, what a sight to miss. The drums intensity lessened as other music took its place, Jack wanting to get up and move around instead of staying stagnant where he was. He'd normally never do something like this in public, never be so open, so free, he had told himself that no one could see. But he had been so desperate to do something to cure his boredom, even if it was just listening to music, he had forgotten about Mark.

Jack got up from the stool he had sat on, his phone sticking slightly out of his back pocket, and moved away from the drums, letting the sticks slide out of his hands. Mark watched him curiously, waiting for the drumsticks to clatter against the ground, but they didn't. His eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped as the drums kept playing themselves. Jack's hands were still moving, like they were playing the drums, but he was off, standing in the space he had cleared for himself earlier. And then Jack did the most spectacular thing Mark had seen him do. Jack began to dance.

There's no way to put into words what Mark saw, it was simply perfection. Mark just watched his friend dance around the room, flawlessly doing things that were seemingly impossible, he did it with such grace and poise, and with his eyes closed the whole time. His head was bobbing to the beat and his hands were moving as if they were still playing the drums. But the more he moved around, the farther and farther his phone began to slide out of his pocket. Then Jack began to spin. Like a Ballerina type spin. He spun around 4 or 5 times before his phone flew out of his back pocket, flying across the room, taking Jack's earbuds, and the music along with it.

Suddenly all fell silent. Jack's hands stopped moving and the drum sticks clattered to the floor. Jack stopped spinning, losing his momentum, as if when the music stopped, so did he. His eyes flickered open and he spotted Mark leaning against the door frame. His blue eyes widened as he realized what happened, stumbling a bit to the right before passing out, collapsing on the ground.

Mark rushed over to his green haired friend, chocolate eyes wide with fear and panic. He bent down, frantically searching for signs of life, before sighing in relief that his friend was still breathing. He backed away cautiously, unsure of what to do, before deciding to give his friend some space. He began to straighten the chairs, picking up Jack and leaning him against the backpacks that sat on the floor so he could restore the classroom to it's original look. He was picking up the drumsticks off the floor when Jack stirred, groggily sitting up, causing Mark to hurriedly drop the drumsticks on the music stand, rushing over to his friend.