For Muse (music4evah). I figured music would be the best thing to dedicate to you. Thank you for everything. You are one of my oldest friends on here, and I will never forget that.

"My life is written in these lyrics. So please, please don't forget me." He wrote for more than the fame, for more than the name - he wrote so that he would stay alive, even after he was gone. OneShot.

x

Just Jonah

x

There's a melody playing. It's addictive, taking over the mind and body, making you want to move to it. You can feel it running through you, taking its course, verse by verse.

In the back, there's the sound of sirens playing, soft but there. It sounds like cries. But it's barely noticeable, so you ignore it, for the music is much too catchy to pay attention to the little things.

: :

I wish they could see how broken he was.

|| I'm strong, they're wrong. They can never knock me down. ||

: :

I only wanted the best for him.

I wanted for him what I could not have for myself. The roaring crowds, adoring fans, immense popularity; and most importantly, the undying love for music, the devotion to it. Things I failed to achieve myself.

He wanted them, too. Maybe even more. I should have noticed he was dying from the start, though.

: :

Behind a bright smile was a dark soul.

|| I keep my head held high because I'm going places. ||

: :

He was born on a January morning, a soft cry in the middle of a calm storm. As the nurses took him to get cleaned, I watched as his mother let out a breath of relief. But she didn't seem very excited to be a mother. She just laid there, looking exhausted and worn. She didn't have that motherly glow on her that most did. I still wonder if she ever wanted him.

He was all I ever wanted.

I watched him grow up. That first gurgled laugh, that first mumbled word, that first wobbly step, that first unsure walk across the room straight into my arms. Late nights and cries from the other side of a baby monitor, and pushes to get out of bed. Dirty diapers and bubble baths, onto potty training and brief showers.

When did he stop being my baby boy?

: :

He didn't know his own weakness.

|| Stab me in the back, Brutus, but I'll get right back up. ||

: :

We started training him at a young age. CDs playing in the background as he fell asleep, dance shows constantly on TV, modeling shoots. I thought she wanted the best for him; it was what I wanted. I missed that look in her eyes that wanted more, though. I missed it, because maybe it was in mine, too.

When he wasn't that old, we started producing songs for him. I just wanted to see how he'd sound; I never thought it'd turn out this big. But he had this voice that caught someone's attention, persuasive and smooth. Like his mother's, except purer and with a tune to it.

It wasn't very surprising that he became famous. With that voice and her power, it was a given. It had been since his birth. But power can be overwhelming, and I should've known better. I should've handled it before it got out of hand. I should've seen the light leave his eyes in a matter of years.

: :

He was a good actor.

|| Everyone wants to be perfect, but is perfect really worth it? ||

: :

After time passed and his popularity grew, he expanded into other media services. Concerts, advertisements, endorsements, TV specials, movie deals - you name it, he's been in it. He was nervous at first, and he stayed at my side nervously the first time he was on a set that wasn't for a music video. It was nice, seeing him act like my child for the first in a while.

As they called him, he sent me one last desperate look before the pulled him away and the lights came. But he slipped into this new role easily, and the tension left him as he started saying his lines with convinced emotions. I watched from the screen, and I smiled a little.

That was my boy. So perfect, so talented, so -

- so broken.

: :

His music was his only escape...

|| My life is written in these lyrics. ||

: :

He started writing his own songs when he became a teenager. We used to work on them together, but I guess I should have known this would happens. Kids grow up, don't they? His first album - all his own, and how proud he was of it - was entitled "Just Jonah". It went double platinum in no time, and it hangs in his room.

I think it's gone dusty now.

In time, though, he started locking himself up in his recording studio. Sometimes, when I went up to check on him, I'd see him crouched over, pulling at his hair. I want to walk in and help, but the door is locked, and so is something else. At night, after having gone to bed, I would hear yells and shouts and cries of frustration, then a crash. I would lay there in bed, thinking if I should help.

I decide against it, and fall asleep.

I never knew he couldn't do the same.

: :

... but it turned out to be his own destruction, as well.

|| So please, please don't forget me. ||

: :

I only wanted the best for him.

Music was his life. He wasn't like other artists, who did this for a job, for the money, for the name and the fame. He did it because the music ran through his body, and it controlled him. At first, it was a gift, but it turned into a curse soon enough. But he loved that curse enough to allow it to overtake him.

He had this fear of being forgotten. He never said it aloud, but it was written in between the lines. He wanted his fans to remember him, to keep him alive after his name ceased to be heard as often. He loved his fans, he loved his music, he loved it all.

But I only want the best for him.

No sound escapes his lips as he begs me, pleads me with his eyes. But I can't watch you slip through my fingers so easily. I know this will kill you, I know you will never forgive me.

I'm sorry, son. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I just want to save you. I can't lose you, too.

: :

"National superstar Jonah Wizard has been involved in a major accident in Egypt. Reasons as to why he was in the country are unknown, and he is currently in critical condition. They say he was in a car crash while on his way to the airport, and he will have to undergo extensive surgery for the injuries he obtained. He suffered a major collision to his chest. Surgeons say there is a risk of him losing his voice forever due to the necessary operations that will save him."

|| My music is my life. Take it away from me and I am as good as dead. ||

: :

The sound of sirens overlap the track, before the music comes to a complete halt. There's a soft cry before silence drowns everything out, but it's an unfriendly silence that doesn't feel right, and it makes you uneasy. Then a BOOM, and you don't know what happened.

What were you just listening to?

(A quiet chant, that of fans all over the world, is in the back of your mind. "Jonah, Jonah, Jonah," they say. But it's muffled and plays like a broken track, too old to fix. Still, it repeats itself, over and over, and the name becomes unforgettable.)

A/N: I don't know why I'm so confusing. Italics are supposed to be lyrics Jonah wrote, although they're not for the same song. They're just... lyrics. Tidbits of different songs, you could say. The narrator is, if you haven't figured that out by now, his father.

You have no idea how hard it was to create this style for this oneshot. Oh my gosh. It took me forever to figure out how to format this.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MUSE! (It's tomorrow, so I'm early ^^") I love you! April 27th is a magical day, indeed.

... I'm sorry. I don't know what my style is these days. I'm much too influenced by my new fandom o.o" That last section is proof.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to point out any errors and give any tips.

(If you want clarification as to what happens/if you want to ask questions, just leave a review - not anonymously - and I'll PM you back with an explanation. Or you can freely interpret this however you like, which is okay.)