WARNING: The following is a work of erotic fan fiction, the events of which are completely made up and did not happen, and is no true reflection of the persons, places, events, etc depicted within. This material is unsuitable to be viewed by those under the legal age limit of viewing pornographic material in your current country of residence.
Featuring: Taylor Swift (singer)
Adopt, Adapt, Improve
A celebrity erotic story
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Adopt, Adapt, and Improve.
Daniel Jacob did not have an easy life to say the least. Brought up in a strict, religious household that used faith as an excuse for hatred, he objected strongly to the beliefs of his parents and strongly refused to go along with their lifestyle or the idea he should continue the family ways of supporting and being a leader in the organization.
Despite having good grades at school and the potential to make something of himself, he'd shown potential in the school choir and shined during musical lessons, he was left with little alternative than to escape the toxic family life and run away from home with the little clothing and possessions he had. That led to years of sleeping rough, working crummy jobs, and drifting from town to city, from state to state with no direction or life goal other than to scratch together a couple of bucks for some food.
Now, as a twenty-five year old with unsurprisingly scruffy hair and a stubbly beard, he'd semi-found a way of "living" that he could get by with. At least, it'd worked out for the past couple of months so he might as well roll with it. He'd gotten into a squat of a homeless hostel, shared with a revolving door of fellow homeless men and women who'd come and go but it was a roof over his head and a space on a floor to sleep, better than a park bench or the open air. Some nights, he'd get to work a shift at a less than professional warehouse to move boxes, help with deliveries and arrivals but it was all zero hours, no guarantees of work. After all, no contracts here and not exactly health and safety standards meeting either, but cash in his hand at the end of the work was better than waiting weeks for a paycheck, especially with no bank account to his name.
Otherwise, Danny as he now called himself, found a way to get a couple of bucks or so during the day. Months back he'd done a job to move an assortment of collected items from a deceased hermit's home that was to be demolished. While picking up a decent pay from it, he was allowed to take whatever he could from the stuff that would mostly just get sent to a dump if it wasn't valuable. Spying a guitar and case, he claimed it thinking it might make money being sold to a pawn shop or something. Instead, he found himself rather naturally attempting to play, strumming chords and practicing singing, picking up tips from fellow hobo players on the way.
A piece of advise he'd picked up early on was to Adopt, Adapt and Improve to whatever life threw at him, as he never knew when the next decent meal or any food would be coming from, or how he'd ever scratch together enough cash to get by that day, let alone get a roof over his head of some form. All he could do was try his best to apply that to whatever situation he found himself in, and he was fortunate enough, smart enough, and occasionally just plain lucky enough to have gotten by using that way of thinking and living.
So here he was, on a street in New York City, his case at his feet and the busy crowds passing by as he strummed and played, going through the regular "set list" of exactly all the songs he knew, including all the ones he'd written and remembered himself. There were a few coppers and silvers in the case - he always made sure to scoop up any "donations" from people after each song - one of the first rules of busking especially in a city like this. He'd gotten enough for a half-decent meal for the night, but there was no reason not to keep on playing until some jobsworth cop came along to move him on.
"And it's still cold out there, so I gotta keep my head real warm..." Danny sang, playing the chords to compliment as he kept his eyes forward, occasional glances to the passing crowd and the moving traffic across, ready to give a smile to anyone who was stopping to pay attention. That usually got some extra change for him, especially if it was a lady.
"Keep those good old thoughts coming, stop my poor old heart from being torn..." Despite his homeless state, the handsome young man tried his best to remain presentable - his messy shoulder length hair finger-brushed back will a dark skull cap, a thick and dark jacket to fend off against the elements with a T-shirt underneath, and very worn and faded jeans with boots that had crusts of dried mud on the trim.
"I can't waste no time complaining, when I've still got to find my home..." He continued singing one of his own songs, closing his eyes for a moment as he continued to apply the pick to the strings.
"And when I finally get there, I hope there's someone to share it with me..." He finished, opening up his eyes as the chorus finished.
Who he saw was the start of his life changing forever.
Across the sidewalk, looking out from the open widow of a big, black people carrier vehicle was a stunning blonde woman with short hair, and thick red lipstick curled into a smile as she looked out, clearly enjoying the song she was hearing as the vehicle she was in was stopped among the traffic. Her fingers on the top of the glass of the pulled down window were tapping along to the chords he was playing, another clear sign of enjoyment. There seemed to be a man in the back seats with her, burly looking like a bodyguard or something but he was more focused on her than anything else.
'Damn she's a pretty gal!' Danny thought, giving her a smile back in appreciation, strumming again as he dished out the end of the song, another full round of the chorus, getting a smile back as she sang out for the audience of one despite the hustle of the crowd of many around. Maybe she'll offer out a note or two from the widow? A phone number isn't any use to him, he doesn't have a cell phone.
Sadly, it was a case of not too be as he'd no sooner finished playing the last chords than her vehicle started to move off, the woman motioning and talking to others in the car as she pointed back towards Danny as it moved away, like she was telling them to stop and go back. He could only smile, giving a little wave that she saw as she looked back, a look of regret for a moment before she cutely waved back before leaning back into the car as the window went up.
'Another lady to meet again in my dreams...' Jacob thought with a chuckle to himself, kneeling down to pick up a coin or two and stuffing it into his pocket, before he stood up straight and testing the tuning of the strings with a couple of strums. Then it was right into the next song, well practiced and sang and not just from the several times he's played it today.
The rest of the day left for him was the usual uneventful period of busking. The odd snide look from snooty businessmen and women, giggling from tourists, and the odd grateful spare change from the odd New Yorker. Later on in the afternoon, Danny had decided that it was getting on enough, his tattered wallet was filled enough, and it was time to head on off and maybe see if the warehouse had any work for him. He'd secured his guitar into his case, locked it up, and slung it over his shoulder and was about to head off.
He was stopped when that same burly man who had been in the car with that gorgeous lady stopped him right in his tracks.
"Woah! Hey man, I don't want no trouble..." Danny said, stepping back with his hands raised.
