‘so can u play?’
‘yeah. guitar piano, just pick w/e u want.’
‘guitar! the corner by the supermarket 2morrow at 3pm?’
‘yeah, ill b there.’
Of course he wasn’t. It was 4.43pm, and Christy was starting to look like a homeless person begging for money you’d put into the guitar which lay in front of her. Of course he wasn’t here. He hadn’t been here at 3pm, and he wasn’t going to show up anytime soon, either. Scowling, she cursed herself for even trying to trust that stupid stuttery git to lend one of his loser friends to play with her. It’d been a dream of hers, to sit peacefully in public and play guitar and sing cozy aucustic songs, and have people leave her money because she actually sang really well. But she couldn’t play. So she’d gone down over her neighbor like a storm, and forced him to give her a number to a guy in his band who could help her. Was it that fucking stupid Christy had actually thought this was going to lead somewhere? A small start in her career, maybe even a nice little relation with a future bandmember? But no. 3pm had passed, she’d called him four times within half an hour, and he hadn’t picked up once. The last time she’d growled into his answering machine and possibly eliminated every chance of him coming at all.
And now people were staring. A child had approached with a coin and had tried putting it into the guitar, but she’d growled ‘Are you mad?!’ at him, and sent him running. So she sat cross-legged, hands on each of her jeans-clad knees, alone and scowling, trying to refrain from smashing the guitar in front of her against the curb of the pavement. From time to time her ponytail swayed violently as she followed a staring person with her glare, making them hurry their steps.
Stephen was on his way to the store, ready to use the coupons he’d saved from last Sunday’s paper. He’d realized he was running low on, well everything, and wondered when he’d gotten so distracted. It wasn’t like him.
As he approached the store he saw a young woman sitting on the sidewalk in front of it, holding a guitar and looking angry. She wasn’t playing, so she probably wasn’t trying to get tips or something. Actually, he was sure of it, with the way she was glaring at everybody.
He almost walked by her, head down. But then rethought it. Maybe something was wrong, after all, and it seemed impolite to just ignore her.
“Um, hello,” Stephen said uncertainly, “Are you…alright?”
stephenmorrison-rp reblogged this from christyrossi and added:
“You don’t seem like much of an asshole, and here you are.” “Well thanks,” he said, grinning and ignoring her sharp...
christyrossi reblogged this from stephenmorrison-rp and added:
Eyeing the man up and down quickly, Christy folded her arms across her chest. Now, what? He’d gotten her up bursting her...
christyrossi posted this
