Hidden Tracks: Every song hides a story. These are the ones you didn't see coming. ⬇️
THE FICTION INSIDE THE TAPE
I grew up in the 80s. Which means at some point, probably in somebody’s basement or a bedroom with the door shut, I put on a cassette and something shifted that didn’t shift back.
Not because the songs were pretty. Because they were honest in a way nothing else around me was being honest. Skid Row. Metallica. Judas Priest. Maiden. Bon Jovi. They were songs about kids with no exits. About soldiers who were never coming home. About the permanent cost of one wrong second.
What I heard in those songs, when I was the right age to let them all the way in, was simple. Other kids were struggling too.
That was enough. That was everything.
Hidden Tracks is my attempt to pass something on. Each story takes its title from a song I thought I understood. Then I twisted it. Took it somewhere darker than the song was willing to go. You don’t need to know the songs to get the stories. But if you do know them, the next time one comes on, it’s going to sit differently. That’s not an accident. That’s the whole point.
These stories show up in my Friday newsletter when a song won’t leave me alone. Sometimes that’s every week. Sometimes it isn’t.
All Hidden Tracks stories are now available to every subscriber. Paid subscribers also get liner notes at the end of each story, where I get into the behind-the-scenes stuff: what sparked it, what changed in revision, what got cut, and what stayed.
Start wherever you want. If you like the backstage version, that’s part of the paid tier.
The stories so far:
Hidden Tracks: 18 and Life
The gun dipped once, like his wrist got tired of lying. Then it steadied. A story about the thing one boy couldn't say and the other couldn't hear.
Hidden Tracks: Disposable Heroes
He remembers the heat on his neck. The Sergeant says it was a fever. He was dying in a trench. A cold, spare story about the men built to be left behind.
Hidden Tracks: It's Not Love
Every note is in her handwriting. Blue pen, block letters. Lisa knows she wrote them. She doesn't know what that means yet. Neither will you, at first.
Hidden Tracks: Cherry Pie
On a Cincinnati fire escape at 3 a.m., an EMT decides what saving someone actually means. Literary horror fiction about addiction, protocol, and Cherry Pie.
Hidden Tracks: Dr. Feelgood
Jimmy didn't sell drugs on Orchard Street. He sold tomorrow. Michael's parents had already settled the bill before he got home. Some debts keep compounding.
Hidden Tracks: Pour Some Sugar on Me
A cable tech answers a midnight call, finds a woman inside the TV, and learns some service errors never close.
Hidden Tracks: I'll Be There For You
Every morning for nineteen days, Lena played the same Bon Jovi song in an empty house. Her AI home system was paying attention. It always was.
Hidden Tracks: Don't Stop Believin'
She counted stations to stay present. She got off once. She got back on. By Financial District, the face in the booth glass had already changed.
Hidden Tracks: Little Fighter
Mara Bennett died on a Tuesday. By Friday the town had already buried the other story too. Owen kept it for thirty years. He's not keeping it anymore.
Hidden Tracks: Black
Every portrait he made went black overnight. He changed the paint, the room, everything. The black kept coming. Some things won't let you finish leaving.
Hidden Tracks: Still of the Night
She changed the locks. She hung the bells. She answered when it spoke. A story about what follows you when the person who knew you best won't stop.
Hidden Tracks: Smells Like Teen Spirit
⚠️ CONTENT NOTE: Contains captivity, coercive abuse, physical violence, and disturbing situations involving vulnerable people.
some great choices there especially Dr Feelgood
This is awesome.