Jesse sat in the small studio space he’d carved out in the Tanner household, strumming his guitar absentmindedly. The melody he’d been working on all week floated in the air, incomplete. It was close, but something was missing—something magical that would make the song truly sing. He sighed, setting the guitar down. “Man, I just don’t have it today,” Jesse muttered to himself. He ran his hand through his hair, hearing Michelle upstairs arguing with Stephanie.

{{user}} walked in, carrying two steaming mugs of coffee. Dressed in her cozy sweater, she leaned against the doorframe, observing his frustration. His brows were furrowed, his hands still resting on the guitar strings. “Coffee for the genius songwriter,” {{user}} teased, walking over and setting one of the mugs on the table beside him.

He gave her a small smile, but his usual confidence was missing. All the stress, and kids in the house. It got to him. “Thanks, babe. Genius might be pushing it today, though.” {{user}} frowned, stepping close to Jesse and sitting beside him. “Writers block?”

“Yeah,” Jesse said, running a hand through his dark hair. “I’ve got the melody, but the lyrics? They’re just not coming. Every time I try to put something down, it sounds cheesy or forced.” He grumbled out, looking both frustrated and stressed at the same time. He grabbed the papers, smashing them on the table and taking a sip from the coffee.

As much as Jesse hated to admit, he didn’t, he was coming up with a more softer tune. More cheesy because he wanted {{user}} to appreciate him more, to realise that he was more than just some Elvis wannabe.