People Are Strange | Short Stories

When You're Strange: Part One

A/N: It's been a while, but I have something new. Not completely accurate, but it's a story after all. Enjoy! 💕

"Time to get the morning paper." Eric whispered to himself, heading towards the front door. 

He crouched down and picked up the newspaper. Turning his head, he spotted a snoozing figure. It was Jim. 

"Hey, Morrison!" He hollered. "Wake up!" 

Jim groaned, the sunlight hurting his tired eyes. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Eric asked, waiting for a proper explanation. 

"Well, I was in town, had no place to stay, so I stopped down here to catch some zzzs." 

"Here? You stopped here, in my house, of all places?" 

"Technically, I'm not in your house. I'm outside your house..." Jim corrected him, recieving a glare from the older vocalist. "Oh, come on, Eric! We're friends, you can't treat me this way." 

"We're friends, yes, but you can't just trespass on my property."  

"I'm sorry, okay? I just thought that you'd show your friends some hospitality. I mean, you do seem like that type of guy." 

"Jim, you came unannounced!" Eric exclaimed. "How can I show some respect when you practically barged into my property without telling me? Huh, tell me, Jim." 

"Well, I guess you're right, Eric," Jim scratched the back of his head and chuckled nervously at his mistake. "I'll ask next time." 

"I'm afraid there won't be a 'next time' for you, Morrison. I want you to go. I'm sure your bandmates are waiting for you. Now, go on." 

"So soon?" Jim frowned, getting up from the bench he was sleeping on. "I didn't even get to tell you about our latest venue or a new song I was coming up with." 

"You don't have to tell me in person. Isn't that why the telephone exists? You can even send me a letter, how about that? I think that's a great idea and know you think so too. Anyway, have a good one, Jim!" 

"Do you want me to wait forever to reach you? Can't I tell you now?" 

Eric entered his house and stood at the doorway. "No, Jim. Like I said, have a good day." He shut the door and sighed. 

The nerve he has to pull that stunt is unacceptable. I won't have any of it. 

A few hours later: 

"Hey, Eric, I heard Jim was at your door this morning. Is it true?" 

Eric looked up, setting his pencil down. "Excuse me?"

"Well," His friend, Hilton, began. "A little bird told me that Jim Morrison was at your door..."

"And who told you this?" 

"I, uh, well, I ran into Jim this morning and asked him what he was up to. He said he was at your house, mumbled something under his breath, then told me to have a nice day." 

"That guy..." Eric sighed, a hint of annoyance in his voice, picking up the stack of papers in front of him. "Well, it looks like I'm done with this paperwork. Take a look at it, what do you think?" 

Hilton quickly skimmed through the papers, then said, "Looks fine to me." 

Eric looked at the guitarist, a slightly annoyed expression on his face. That's it? He barely looked through it! Goodness...

A bit nervous, the younger man said, "Did you expect more, Eric?" 

"Well, I expected more than just a plain, 'it looks fine to me.' These documents are important, man." 

"I think it's just fine, Eric," Hilton began. "It doesn't need any revisions. Look, if you want a better answer, ask Chas or John. You can even ask Alan. Just don't ask me." 

And, with that, the two moved on to another topic. 

Meanwhile...

"So, how has it been with all the solo work, Alan?"

"Well," He began with a grin. "I've been having a ball writing new material. Quite refreshing to have all this creative freedom."

"I'm guessing you don't miss us at all, huh?" His former bandmate, Chas, said with a laugh.

"No, no, I miss you all in a way, actually," Alan said, taking a sip of tea. "I've just been enjoying myself and my work. Not much stress, it's great."

"Well, Eric's been stressed a lot this past week," John chimed in, sipping on his tea as well. "I thought Hilton being there would help ease the stress of it all, but I guess I'm wrong."

"It looks to me that Eric desperately needs help from you all, not just from Hilton."

"He specifically told me, and I quote, 'As the leader, I'll handle all this work. I don't need your help, but thanks, Chas,'" The bassist remarked. "I trusted his word, I did, but I suppose I'll have to lend him a helping hand now."

John nodded. "You know, I was told the same thing too..."

The three men looked at each other as silence filled the room.

"Would you look at that? My cup is empty," Alan began, wiping a few crumbs off his shirt. "It's the perfect time to get going, don't you all think?"

"Agreed."

To be continued...