Sparks Fly Chapter 1: New Beginnings

The DJ was terrible. He was obviously putting on a false voice to match the stereotypical DJ's voice, and his enthusiasm was half-hearted. No one really noticed- beside me, of course- but I was bored, and when I'm bored, I'm judgmental. Some people call it one of my main flaws, but I called it being perceptive.

In an attempt to escape the gray mood the DJ was inflicting upon me, I pushed through the throngs of people and turned into an emptier portion of the festival. There, a small crowd was surrounding a musician. I stopped at the fringe of the crowd and listened closely.

A beautiful voice filled my ears, caressing them. I sighed contentedly and felt myself involuntarily trying to move closer to the owner of such a fantastic voice. People grumbled as I shoved past them, but I ignored them. I was in an impenetrable daze. Soon, I was standing right in front of the singer. He was looking down, so I couldn't see his face. However, I could tell that he was skinny- too skinny.

I mentally pleaded that he look up. And he did.

He was captivating.

His eyes were like emeralds and sapphires swirled together, and his hair was a wild disarray of bronze. He had feminine features, which was completely fine by me. His long, golden eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes, swaying to the sound of his own voice.

Too soon, the song was over and the crowd was dispersing. My feet couldn't bring themselves to move. They were just stuck there, and were stubbornly refusing to listen to my inner commands. Within seconds, it was just me and the man. He peered into the guitar case that had been set in front of him and smile satisfactorily.

Then he realized that I was still standing there.

He smiled a confused smile. It was bedazzling. "Hello, would you like something from me?"

His voice was gorgeous- almost as beautiful as he was. It was like vanilla, strawberries, the night sky, and fuzzy blankets all rolled into one. He looked at me expectantly. Shoot. What had he asked me again?

Oh, right. He wanted to know if I would like something from him.

"No," I replied, still feeling a bit numb.

Then I realized what a dumb response that had been. He was probably wondering why I was standing in front of him, immobile and almost irresponsive.

I revised what I had said. "I meant- your singing is great. Yeah."

He grinned that beautiful smile again. "Thank you. I do try."

I felt a blush coming on for no apparent reason. "I can tell."

He winked and zipped up his guitar case. "I'm flattered. Maybe I'll see you around."

And with that, he was gone.

I couldn't help feeling a sense of utter loss.

I know my writing isn't great, but I'm hoping you enjoyed the basic premise. I'm young and still experimenting. I don't know what my writing style is, quite yet, but I'm hoping to figure out soon.

- Lee