My Good Luck Charm

Chapter 3- Michael

I groan in frustration and ball the piece of paper up before throwing it at the waste paper basket in the corner of my room. No matter how hard I try, I just can't write this goddamn song.

I groan again as I try to grab at the words floating around my head and pair them with the chords and notes I've already decided on. But nothing seems to be working.
I throw my pen against the desk and bury my hands into my black and green hair with frustration. I'm tired and hungry and I just can't get lyrics out, even though I have the idea already.

My bedroom door opens and my mum's familiar footsteps come into the room. Federer's soft, damp nose brushes my bare leg and I glance down at the black poodle.

"Hey poo head." I say to him affectionately. Mum laughs a little at the odd pairing of insult and affection, but doesn't say anything about it.

"Here, you didn't come for dinner so I thought you might be hungry." Mum says and places a chicken and mayonnaise roll on my desk beside me. My stomach rumbles loudly and she hears it.

"See. I told you." She says sounding proud. I smile up at her and she ruffles my hair.

"Thanks Mum." I say, even though I won't eat it.

"That's okay Michael. I'll leave you to work, just don't stay up too late." She says kindly and then turns to leave after my nod in understanding.

At the door she turns to call for Federer, but I tell her to leave him be because he's all comfortable, curled up under the desk.

When the door's closed I look thoughtfully at the roll she brought in for me. My stomach rumbles again, and this time it hurts a little. I should probably eat it, at least to satisfy the apparent dragon in my stomach.

I reach out to pick it up and take a bite before I jerk my hand to my chest like I've been electrocuted.

"No Mikey. You can't eat that. You have to control what you eat. Remember what Abigail said? Your band mates are hotter than you. Pull yourself together man, lose weight." I tell myself, looking away from the roll and over at the full length mirror on the side. I glare at myself and tell myself again that I need to control what I'm eating. Or not eating.

I grab the plate that the roll is on and put it on the floor for Federer to eat. He jumps up and moves to the plate. He sniffs it eagerly before starting to animatedly scoff it down. Good old Federer, can be counted on to eat anything. I smile at the cute poodle before trying to focus on the stupid song.

It's not working so I stand up to try and pace, maybe that will help me get some sort of flow of lyrics.

I know the idea was to only brainstorm an idea and then maybe some lyrics, but I'm not as talented as them, as attractive as them, as clever as them or as nice as them so I just want to be able to do something better than them and write a song on my own that is acceptable.

But it looks like I can't even fucking do that!

I slam my fist hard into the wall and it hurts a lot. I pull my fist back to stare at my now bloody knuckles and then back at the wall. There's a slight print on the paint, but it's a solid brick wall and there's no crack. And I guess you have to look closely to even see the print.

"You're so fucking weak! You can't even mark the fucking wall!" I shout to myself. I haven't slept in two, almost three, days and I haven't eaten in over twenty-four hours so I'm not really surprised I'm so agitated.

Federer's small bark at my door makes me realise that I need to chill. I smile at the poodle and go to open the door to let him out, and I know that the sensitive dog wouldn't have liked me shouting. I pick up the plate after shutting the door and leave it on my desk before sitting next to it and looking at the music sheets again.

"Michael, I thought I said don't stay up too late." My mum says gently as she comes into my room. I don't react to her, I just reread what I've written. It sounds okay I think, but I'll need to play it and sing it to get an idea. I reach out to pick up the acoustic guitar that's resting on the side of the desk nearest the door, but Mum lunges for it and grabs before I can.

"Oh no you don't." She says and holds it behind her back. I groan and drop my hand into my lap, turning the chair to face her.

"Mum. I need to work." I say in frustration.

"No Michael. What you need is to sleep." She says.

She's right. Very right. I'm not even concentrating very well right now and I know I'll feel better after I've slept.

I reluctantly let my mum place my guitar in the stand on the far side of the room and tug me into a standing position.

It wasn't long before she was taking my jeans off as well as my shoes and then pulling the covers over my shoulders.

"Goodnight baby boy." She says softly and kisses my forehead.

"Goodnight Mum." I say with a sigh and roll over. It's not long before I'm asleep.

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Hey everyone. I hope you like this update.

The picture is of Michael's notebook that he writes lyrics and stuff in.

I kind of feel awful for writing about our favourite kitten feeling so awful, but yeah it's for the story.

Hope you've all had a good few days and I'm going to start updating weekly (every Saturday!).
Also every Sunday, I'll be updating my new fanfic that is called You Can't Love Me and that comes out the day after this update. Please take a look!

Love you all and follow me on Twitter and Tumblr!!
Twitter is Raeganlei98
Tumblr is gayandallthatjazz