Chapter Text
Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a place very, very far away, there was a man named William Frederick Durst.
William’s greatest dream was to have a world-famous band, to be a famous singer, full of money and beautiful women, but he just couldn’t. Instead, he made money mowing lawns. He had big plans for his life, but for now all he could do was stay where he was and convince himself that the solution was becoming a celebrity and not going to a psychiatrist.
There were also Samuel and John, who were just graduating from high school, and with them he had the grand plan of forming this great band. But things weren’t going well in their town with all those weird ideas about the terrifying outside world! To the other villagers, they were so… eccentric and unhinged that they made no sense. So yeah things weren’t really working out… they were missing a key piece but hmm what could it be? he wondered.
One day, William was on his way home, which was located on the outskirts of the town where he lived, when he heard a loud crash. He ran to check it out. His eyebrows shot up in surprise when he saw a massive alien spaceship crashed into the ground. The dome of the ship opened upward, and from inside emerged what he could only describe as the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his American life. He had long, wavy hair down to his shoulders and wore a black-and-red striped wool shirt, with a few scratches, probably from the impact.
It wasn’t the kind of beauty he saw in magazines, the kind you use for a quick jerk-off; soft people with plastic, shallow looks, something disposable. No. His beauty was different. He didn’t have gentle or shy eyes, not those lighthouse-like eyes people sometimes use as justification to cling to someone attractive. His eyes were sharp, resigned, reflecting something deeper.
He wasn’t the kind of man Fred thought he’d ever fall for but lowkey he did.
The man approached Fred and told him he was lost, with no further explanation. Fred, completely smitten, told him without hesitation that he could stay the night at his house.
The unknown man nodded and followed him home. Fred opened the door for him before entering. The moment Fred closed the door, something felt off. That lovestruck feeling he’d had just vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced now with… caution. He ignored it for a moment, until he turned around to look at him and then everything made sense.
He was slowly transforming into a horrible, monstrous thing. The sound of bones cracking and flesh tearing was so disgusting it could make anyone’s stomach turn. He collapsed to the ground as his face elongated and his teeth turned into sharp, uneven fangs. His body grew longer and thinner, his limbs more pronounced and unnatural. I’m tired of describing it but you get the idea he was a monster now.
The look of total shock on Fred’s face was unmistakable. How was it possible that the beautiful man who had just stepped out of a crashed ship turned out to be a huge alien? He didn’t even have time to process the question before the alien roared right in his face.
Fred ran to the other side of the room, frantically glancing around for anything that could help him survive this alien encounter. He threw everything within reach: a pillow, the small table he used to eat, and even using a strength he didn’t know he had his entire closet. All of it was useless. The creature kept advancing slowly and menacingly, step by step. With no other option, Fred grabbed the only thing left at hand: a 4-string baritone hybrid electric guitar created in collaboration with PRS Guitars.
When he threw it, the alien caught it between its thumb and index finger, as if it were an expensive piece of jewelry that might be lost if dropped.
“OH a 4-string baritone hybrid electric guitar created in collaboration with PRS Guitars, my only weakness!! How could you have known?” the alien exclaimed, now speaking with a more harmonious voice, unlike the previous deep, bored tone. Slowly, the alien returned to its normal form, well, he’s not human, but… normal for him, he guesses and his opinion was always the correct one.
He held the guitar as if it were a missing part of himself, something that had always belonged to him. That made Fred raise an eyebrow.
“You play guitar, strange alien?” he asked, genuinely curious. He hadn’t thought aliens could listen to rock maybe he is a bad person.
The alien nodded, and Fred hummed thoughtfully. The alien played a little and oh my God, he was exceptional! Fred had never witnessed anything like it, with his mind the size of a speck of dirt under a fingernail. He completely forgot that the thing had just tried to kill and eat him alive and stepped closer.
“I’m Fred.” He extended his hand, which remained awkwardly hanging when the alien just stared at it with a neutral expression. Well, he was an alien he probably didn’t know anything about human interaction, only a few phrases he had learned to trick fools and eat them.
Wes shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Wes, how are you.”
“Good. Do you want to be in my band?” he said almost instantly, looking at him in awe and nearly crushing his hand with the force of his grip as he waited for an answer. There was no response. He just stood there, silent, staring at Fred.
How had this man managed to eat so many people if he didn’t even know how to hold a basic conversation? Fred had been stupidly blinded by his beauty just minutes ago to the point of letting him in, his survival instincts were honestly a solid zero.
Wes held his greatest weakness in one hand, and in the other, his dinner. A short, shaved-head guy dressed in 20XL pants with weird tattoos covering his arms. Unfortunately, he couldn’t eat him now. Another time, maybe. “Sweet.”
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Fred said decisively. He was taking another step forward with his band!! Maybe and just maybe this strange, handsome alien who didn’t seem like a naturally social species, was the missing piece to his rise and his band.