MidReal Story
Rising Rockstar: A Journey to Stardom
Scenario: I becamse a rock star.
Create my version of this story
Mark Thompson
lead guitarist of the band, close friend to Jamie, tall with a rugged look, charismatic and skilled
Lisa Nguyen
band manager, works closely with Jamie and Mark, sleek and professional appearance, organized and supportive
Jamie Collins
aspiring musician, friends with bandmates, short with vibrant hair, ambitious and rebellious
I was going to be a rock star.
I just didn’t know it yet.
It was the summer of 2007, and I was sitting in my bedroom, strumming my guitar and singing along to the radio.
My parents were out for the evening, so I had the house to myself.
I’d been playing for a few years now, but I’d only recently started writing my own songs.
I’d even played a few open mic nights at a local bar, and the response had been pretty good.
I knew I had something special, and I was determined to make it big.
My phone rang, and I glanced at the caller ID before answering.
“Hey,” I said when my friend Mark picked up.
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Just playing some music,” he replied.
“You?”
“Same,” I said with a grin.
“I’ve got this new song that I’m working on.”
“Wanna come over?”
I asked, cutting him off before he could finish his sentence.
“I could use a second opinion.”
He was tall and ruggedly handsome, with shaggy brown hair and piercing blue eyes.
He was also a few years older than me, and he’d been a good friend for as long as I could remember.
“Sure,” he said.
“I’ll be right there.”
I hung up the phone, grabbed my guitar, and headed downstairs to let Mark in.
A few minutes later, he arrived.
“Hey,” he said as I opened the door.
He gave me a quick hug before following me upstairs to my room.
I closed the door behind us and sat down on my bed with my guitar, while Mark perched on the edge of my desk chair, watching me expectantly.
I played him the new song that I’d been working on, and his eyes lit up with excitement.
“That’s really good,” he said.
“It has potential.”
“Thanks,” I said, beaming at him.
I had no doubt that it did.
In fact, I thought it was the best thing I’d ever written.
God, to be young and naive again .
It’s hard to believe that it’s been almost ten years since that fateful summer when I realized what I wanted to do with my life.
I can still remember that night as if it were yesterday, sitting in my room with Mark, feeling the fire of inspiration burning deep within me.
The music was my salvation, my escape from the real world, and I knew that it was only a matter of time before I made it big.
Okay, so maybe I was a little bit delusional back then, but can you blame me?
I was only seventeen years old, with the whole world at my feet and nothing holding me back.
It wasn’t until much later that I realized just how hard it is to make it as a musician, how much work goes into writing and recording an album, how cutthroat the industry can be, and how difficult it is to get people to notice you in the first place.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Let’s go back to that summer night in 2007, when I was just a girl with a dream, a guitar, and a song in her heart.
It was getting late by the time Mark left my house that night.
I walked him to the door and gave him a quick hug before saying goodbye.
He promised to call me the next day, so we could work on the song some more, and then he climbed into his car and drove away
I closed the door behind him with a sigh of contentment and headed back to my room, where I sat down with my guitar to work on some more ideas for the song that Mark had liked so much.
The radio was still on, playing some old rock classics, but I wasn’t really paying attention to it.
I was lost in my own little world, strumming chords and humming melodies that seemed to flow from some hidden wellspring of inspiration deep within me.
I felt like I was on the verge of something big, but I didn’t know what it was yet.
All I knew was that I didn’t want this feeling to end.
And it didn’t.
The more I played, the more ideas came to me, until I had a whole notebook full of songs that were begging to be put down on paper.
Everything felt so easy that night, like I was meant to do this, like it was my destiny.
It was a turning point for me, a moment when everything seemed to fall into place, and I realized that my life would never be the same again.
If only I’d known then what I know now .
But I’m getting ahead of myself again.
I’d been playing guitar for a few years already, ever since my mom bought me one for my birthday, but it wasn’t until that summer that I really fell in love with it.
I’m not sure what changed exactly, but something did.
Suddenly, I couldn’t get enough of the music, and I spent every spare minute of my time playing my guitar, writing new songs, and dreaming of the day when I could share them with the world.
My parents were always supportive of my musical ambitions, even if they didn’t quite understand them.
They bought me all the equipment I needed, drove me to my gigs, and even let me practice in the house when they knew full well that I should have been doing my homework instead.
But that night, when I realized that I wanted to be a rock star, I knew that things were going to be different from then on.
My parents were going to have to accept the fact that their little girl had grown up, and she had big plans for her future.
Plans that didn’t include going to college or getting a regular job or settling down with a nice boy from a good family.
I didn’t know what the future held for me, but I knew one thing for certain:
The future was looking bright.
I played music all night that summer, staying up until the early hours of the morning, lost in my own little world.
I was so consumed by my passion that I didn’t even notice the sun coming up, or the birds singing outside, or the fact that I hadn’t slept at all.
I was young, I was dumb, and I was in love with the music.
It was all I needed, or so I thought.
It wasn’t until much later that I realized that being a musician is about more than just playing music.
It’s about sacrifice, and hard work, and determination.
It’s about never giving up, no matter how many times you get knocked down.
It’s about taking risks, and making mistakes, and learning from them.
But most of all, it’s about believing in yourself, even when no one else does.
I wish I could say that I’ve always been good at that last part, but I’d be lying.
In fact, there have been times when I’ve doubted myself so much that I almost gave up on my dream altogether.
I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but giving up on my dream isn’t going to be one of them.
Because I’m going to be a rock star.
It’s just going to take me a little while longer to get there.
The summer of 2007 was a turning point for me.
I was young, I was broke, and I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.
But then something happened, something that changed everything.
I fell in love with music, and I knew that it was what I wanted to do for the rest of my life.
That was the night I made a promise to myself: No matter what happened, no matter how long it took, I was going to be a rock star.
I just didn’t know it yet.
I sat on the floor of my room, my legs crossed beneath me, my back against the wall, playing my guitar like it was the only thing keeping me alive.
I had been doing this for hours now, ever since my parents left for their weekly date night at the movies.
It was a Friday night, and I should have been out with my friends, doing God knows what, but I didn’t feel like it tonight.
All I wanted to do was play my guitar and make music, and that’s exactly what I was doing.
The radio was on, playing some old rock classics, and I was strumming along, trying to keep up with the fast-paced chords and complicated solos.
I had only been playing for a few years, ever since my mom bought me an acoustic guitar for my birthday, and I still had a lot to learn.
But I was getting better, and with practice, I knew that I would get even better.
And maybe, just maybe, one day I would be good enough to play on the radio myself.
I closed my eyes and lost myself in the music, playing chords and solos that I had never played before, making it up as I went along, and having the time of my life in the process.
As the final notes faded away, I opened my eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as I leaned back against the wall.
It was late now, and the sun had long since set, leaving me alone in the darkness of my room.
It was quiet outside, too quiet for a Friday night, but I didn’t care.
I was lost in my own little world, thinking about the future and how bright it was going to be.
Maybe one day I’d be a famous musician, playing on stages all around the world, and signing autographs for fans at every stop along the way.
Or maybe I’d be a producer, working behind the scenes to help other artists achieve their dreams of stardom.
Or maybe I’d be an A&R rep, scouting new talent and bringing them to the attention of the bigwigs at the record labels.
The possibilities were endless, and as I sat there in the darkness of my room, listening to the sound of my own breathing in the stillness of the night, I knew one thing for certain:
I could feel it in my bones, deep down in the very core of me, and as the reality of that knowledge sank in, I felt a surge of indescribable joy.
I was going to be a rock star.
And nothing was going to stand in my way.
It was a warm, muggy night in the summer of 2007.
Jamie Collins sat on the floor of her childhood bedroom, her legs crossed beneath her, her back against the wall, and played her guitar like her life depended on it.
Her parents were out for the evening, leaving her alone with her thoughts and her music, and she had spent the past several hours lost in a world all her own.
The radio was on, playing some old rock classics, and she was strumming along, trying to keep up with the fast-paced chords and complicated solos.
She had only been playing for a few years, ever since her mom bought her an acoustic guitar for her birthday, and she still had a lot to learn.
But she was getting better, and with practice, she knew that she would get even better.
Maybe one day she would be good enough to play on the radio herself.
As the final notes faded away, Jamie opened her eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she leaned back against the wall.
It had grown late now, and the sun had long since set, leaving her alone in the darkness of her room.
It was quiet outside too quiet for a Friday night, but she didn’t care.
She was lost in her own little world, thinking about the future and how bright it was going to be.
Maybe one day she’d be a famous musician, playing on stages all around the world, and signing autographs for fans at every stop along the way.
Or maybe she’d be a producer, working behind the scenes to help other artists achieve their dreams of stardom.
Or maybe she’d be an A&R rep, scouting new talent and bringing them to the attention of the bigwigs at the record labels.
The possibilities were endless, and as she sat there in the darkness of her room, listening to the sound of her own breathing in the stillness of the night, Jamie knew one thing for certain:
I’m going to be a rock star.
And nothing is going to stand in my way.
Something had changed.
The music I was making felt too big, too urgent to remain confined within the walls of my room.
It needed to be heard, to be shared, and there was only one person I trusted enough to reveal it to: Mark Thompson.
Mark wasn't just a friend; he was my musical other half, the lead guitarist of our high school band, and the only person I felt truly understood the raw power and emotion behind the music we loved.
We had spent years together in my garage, surrounded by posters of our idols and the smell of stale beer, crafting our sound and dreaming of something more.
As I sat there, the chords ringing out from my guitar, I knew with a certainty I had never felt before that this was it.
This was the song that would change everything.
Without overthinking it, I picked up the phone and dialed Mark's number, heart racing with a heady mix of excitement and fear.
What if he didn't like it?
What if he thought it was stupid?
But as the call connected and his voice filled my ear, all those doubts vanished like smoke in the wind.
"Hey, Mark," I said.
He sounded groggy, like he had just woken up, and for a moment I wondered if I should have waited until morning.
But it was too late now, and besides, this couldn't wait.
"Jamie, is everything okay?" Mark asked.
I could hear the concern in his voice, and it warmed me from the inside out.
"Yeah, everything's fine," I said.
"I just wanted you to hear something."
I held my breath as the chords rang out from my guitar once again, filling the room with their raw power and emotion, and waited for his response.
I'm going to be a rock star.