Friday Prompt — Three-Part Challenge
Challenge 1. The Original Prompt
Write this scene. Your earpiece is in your ear, and suddenly someone starts talking. The person tells you to meet at a hotel. You must follow, or there will be consequences.
Challenge 2. The Object Challenge
Find an everyday object and make it the center of your story. It could be an earpiece, a key, a coffee mug, a flashlight, a receipt, or anything else. Let the object spark your imagination.
Challenge 3. Continue the Story
Continue Omar’s story from where it ends. What happens next? Is Ursela telling the truth? Who hijacked the earpiece? Why was Omar really brought to the hotel? Take the story in your own direction.
Set your timer, write, and most importantly, have fun!
My Response
Monday, July 13, 2026
Marvelle Theaters
1300 Regal Plaza
Marvelle, New Jersey
Omar Oreaz has just finished watching the new movie “A Beautiful Dance of Chaos” starring his favorite actor, Weaver Fence. It was a beautiful and sad love story. He wasn’t one to watch romantic movies, but this came highly recommended by one of his buddies who took his girlfriend. He took his earpiece out of his pocket and placed it in his ear. He headed to the bathroom, washed his hands, and exited.
When he came outside, it was still light. Before he took a step off the curb, he froze.
“Hello, Omar.”
He frowned. “Who is this?”
“Someone you’re going to listen to.”
He took out his phone, but there was no active call. He looked around the parking lot, but he didn’t see anyone who looked suspicious. He didn’t recognize the voice either. The voice was distorted and sadistic. He shivered.
“You are going to listen and follow instructions precisely.”
“I don’t have to listen to this.” He was about to snatch the earpiece out of his ear.
“If you do, your precious ears will never hear music again.”
This had to be somebody who knew him. Somebody who knew that going deaf was his greatest fear over dying. Music was his life, and it brought him joy. Losing music would be death.
“Is this some kind of sick joke?”
“No, but I can pay your mother a visit.”
“Don’t you dare threaten my mother.”
“Come to Marvelle Grand Hotel. If you alert anyone, you’re not going to like the consequences.”
He blew out his breath and headed to his car. On his walk toward his car, he kept looking around to see if there was someone who might be the hijacker. He didn’t know anyone who could hack his Bluetooth. But the threat about music meant it had to be someone who knew him. Apparently, someone he knew had a secret.
He reached his car, reluctantly opened the door, and got in. The person was quiet on his ride to the hotel. What did this person want? Would today be the day he met his maker? He still had goals he wanted to achieve. He wanted to talk to that pretty barista at Chat Up Café, whom he had been crushing on.
***
He pulled into the Marvelle Grand Hotel parking lot. He found a spot close to the building. It was official, he was walking to his death. Would he get the chance to say goodbye to his family before he was put out of his misery?
He exited the car and headed into the building. “What room?”
“713”
He shivered again. What were the odds of the room number being his birthday? Maybe his buddies had something planned, but he’d thought it’d be on the weekend when everyone was free. Why such an elaborate ruse? Threatening his mom, but then he had a couple of twisted friends.
“The keycard is waiting at the desk. Under your last name.”
He took deep breaths as he headed over to the counter. The woman greeted him. He gave his last name, and she handed him the keycard.
Omar rode the elevator to the seventh floor. He slowly walked to find his room. He was trying to buy time just in case it wasn’t his friends waiting on the other side of that door.
“Move faster, I don’t want to be kept waiting,” the distorted voice sounded in his ear. That voice pierced his soul, forming a darkness in him that he’d never escape.
He reached the door and took deeper breaths. He touched the door with the keycard, and it turned green. He turned the handle in his hand and opened the door. The room was dimly lit, and one of Trey Songz’s songs was playing low. Great, he was going to die listening to music. He guessed that would be a better way to go, listening to something he enjoyed.
He came further into the room, and his stomach dropped. Now he wished he were dead. There, lying on the bed, was his ex, Ursela Torres. She was two straps shy of the loony bin.
She pulled something from behind her. She waved it. Then she showed it to him. His eyes widened, and pain seared his chest. A pregnancy test. God, no, no. Jumping out the window seemed like a better way to go than to have a child with his woman. He and the baby wouldn’t stand a chance of survival.
“Omar, you’re going to be a father.” He looked closer, and her belly was round. She could be more than five months. He clutched his chest and went down on his knees. He’d just entered hell.
Join the Conversation
This week is about expanding your creativity. Have fun and share your responses. I really love to see where this week’s three-part challenge goes. Happy writing!
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