People were trying to tell him he was a genius. He always shook his head at the word “genius”. He’d jot down notes on crumpled up napkins or anything that he could write on. He’d spend nights, staying up for hours, reworking lines until they bled.

Most people didn’t know his talent. He was just the guy that has worked at the gas station his whole life. Although his friends knew. They knew that he would stay up for hours, an unhealthy amount of hours, and they knew how much making the lines perfect got to him.

One gloomy night, he worked the closing shift at the gas station. As he was about to flick off the lights and take off home, a paper on the public bulletin board stood out to him. It read “Karaoke Night – Friday, 9 o’clock”. He thought to himself, this would be perfect.

He drove to the restaurant that was holding the Karaoke session, and the parking lot was full. He felt his stomach twist and turn, as he feared being embarrassed if the lyrics weren’t actually good. He walked in the front doors and, instantly, one of his friends waved him down. They chatted for a while before the karaoke began. A line stuck out to him so he grabbed his pen and journal, scribbled it down, and stuffed it in his pocket. He convinced his friend to go and sing one of his songs. His friend had a way better singing voice than him, so he slid his notebook to his friend. A song about someone who goes through a tough childhood and early life, but ends up doing the right thing, and has a wealthy future. His friend’s voice rose and fell like waves on a shore, soothing in one moment, crashing with intensity in the next . The whole restaurant was singing along to the chorus because of how catchy the song was. In the end, everyone was dancing and singing along. Everyone clapped and cheered for an encore. His friends ended up playing two more of his songs.

After a long night of loud music, he woke up to his head throbbing and his phone ringing, sounding louder and more annoying than ever. The number on the phone was one he had never seen before. Still he decided to answer. It was the local studio; they had heard his friend’s performance the previous night. They were told by his friend that he wrote the lyrics, and that they want him and his friend to come to the studio tomorrow night. They stated right before hanging up that he and his friend might be the next music stars.

His friends always told him that his lyrics could only be made up by a genius, but he never believed them. He always took writing lyrics as a hobby, until now.