Mute Musician Novels & Stories

“That girl was a solution! You need to stop sabotaging this!” “The only solution I need is one that doesn’t make me want to claw my own eyes out. Next.” The last girl scurries out like she’d rather be anywhere but listening to our back-and-forths. For an agonizing long second, it’s just the two of us and the hum of Lewis Capaldi crooning “Someone You Loved” from the corner speaker. The irony isn’t lost on me.

If he was half as good in bed as he was out on the dance floor, she was fairly certain that he would blow her mind. Far too soon, the music ended. Panting for more than just oxygen, Kat looked up into Mr. Sexy-wink’s face and was pleased to find his eyes dilated and fixed on her. The look of desire darkening his features heated her belly and sent blood rushing to places that had nothing to do with dancing. Another dance like that, and sweet, reliable Kat would be pulling Mr. Sexy-wink out into the hallway to find an empty room. Instead of another slow and sexy song, the band picked up with a swing song that Kat had never heard before. Unfortunately, it was one that required Mr. Sexy-wink to

For ten years, I stood beside Adrian Shaw while he clawed his way up from nothing to a nine-figure fortune. In all that time, he never once took me anywhere that cost more than twenty dollars a head. On the eve of our tenth anniversary, I sent him a link to the steakhouse I'd been saving for years. His expression darkened. "Just because we have money now doesn't mean we can forget how hard life can get. Thrift is a virtue, Nora. Don't lose it." I thought he had a point, so I nodded and agreed to cancel the reservation. Then, on the day I went to the restaurant to cancel it, I saw Adrian across the dining room, having dinner with a girl. He cut her steak for her, then reached over and ge

She paused, contemplating the newest member of their band. “Hey, don’t I get a byline?” Jace complained. Myrna leaned across Sed and beckoned Jace closer. She whispered something in his ear and he flushed to the roots of his bleached hair. “Seriously?” he sputtered. She stared into his eyes and nodded. “Seriously.” Now that was just wrong. What had she told him? “Trey Mills. Rhythm guitarist. Dreamy green eyes to melt hearts. Nimble fingers to, well, get a lady’s thoughts going in all sorts of inappropriate directions.”

Finally I was ready, my hair was almost at my shoulders, but it was bothering me already. Maurício was distracted while playing the piano, yes, he played it very well. He was playing a romantic song, but I couldn't tell what it was. Before leaving I looked at myself in the mirror and truly, I hated what I saw. But, he didn't think the same as me and every time he fucked me it was like it was the first time, and they were all unique. I approached him taking light steps on top of a 17cm needle assault, I think it was only for these hours anyway, because it's out of condition. He slowed the rhythm of the piano until he stopped, making my steps echo as he pounded on the porcelain floor.

“That’s the most Celeste thing I’ve ever heard.” Celeste nodded. “People respond to truth more than charm.” Leo’s mouth twitched. “Paul doesn’t.” Celeste looked up briefly. “He responds to control.” Brett winced. “Oof.” Celeste continued, letting the memory move through. “Then the drummer’s in-ears died. Then a mic stand snapped. Then the singer decided they needed a different towel because the first one felt ‘too aggressive.’” Brett put a hand to his chest in mock horror. “I hate musicians.” He paused. “Wait. I am a musician.” Another pause. “I hate myself.”

They argued over music—Anna's preference for classical cello, Dylan's taste for aggressive, early 2000s rock. The constant tension between his professional perfection and his personal wreckage was slowly giving way to a genuine connection. Anna found herself laughing easily, her red hair catching the dim candlelight. Dylan, in turn, relaxed, his shoulders finally dropping away from his ears, the perpetual storm in his eyes easing into a blue twilight. But the mental anxiety was always lurking as a shadow under the surface. As the night wore on and Anna mentioned an interesting conversation she'd had with Dr. Lucas about a mutual patient, Dylan’s smile faltered.

That made me even more livid. “Woah there Kain! Chill out man. I was just calling to see how its going, no need to bite my head off” “Fuck you dipshit! I’m stuck here because of you.” I hissed out, angry as all hell “Hey! I’m not the one who told you to go to Majorca for a fucking week” he paused and I heard him chuckle “And to suck at rock, paper, scissors I pinched the bridge of my nose and spoke in clipped tones “Just fuck off and go get wasted or something and leave me alone before I decide to drive down to that goddamn club and rip your head off”

I ran my hands through his hair screaming his name. "Yes.. yes.." I groaned as he grabbed my ass. He turned my body around and started to thrust my body from the back. He squeezed both of my breast hard and he released himself inside of me. He turned my body around and kissed my lips hard. "M.I.N.E" He smirked.

That's all in the past now, my Dad is now a part of the witch's gang. As I paid attention to "Fix You" by Coldplay" on the radio. I wondered if there was someone that could fix me. It is one of my favorite songs to listen to every morning. I'd say it gives me some sort of hope and inspiration. I began to sing the song: "When you try your best, but you don't succeed When you get what you want, but not what you need When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep Stuck in reverse And the tears come streaming down your face