"Hey, Als?" I heard the shout of my best friend.
"Yeah?" I shouted back, not feeling the energy to get up from this couch. Griffin, my small kitten, cringed at the noise level but continued purring on my lap. I heard shuffling before Trish appeared in my sight.
"Can I ask a favor of you?" she questioned. She didn't give the chance to reply when she'd already stuffed a forty dollars into my palm. "I've been meaning to buy Jason Walker's latest record, but I've really got to get to work and I won't have any spare time tonight. The Record Store is closed tomorrow. Would you mind running out and grabbing it for me?" she questioned, fixing her appearance in the mirror.
I slowly looked down to Griffin who was licking his white paws and rubbing them along his face. I really didn't want to move and Griffin looked so comfy on my lap, but it wouldn't hurt to do a favor for Trish. (Even though she never returns them.)
"Sure," I agreed, taking the small kitten in my hands and setting him on the couch. He meowed at me. "Sorry, bud," I gave him an apologetic look.
"Stop treating him like he's a human being," Trish guffawed. I sent her a dark look.
"He's my baby," I replied. She rolled her eyes before dismissing herself to get to work. My phone buzzed and I saw the text message from Trish, ordering me to get Griffin off of the couch. I glanced over at Griffin who had just made himself comfy. I shrugged. "Just this once," I mumbled.
I looked in the mirror and freshened up my face, adding light cover-up and very little mascara. I wasn't a fan of gobbing on piles of makeup. I don't know, I guess I'm not like the other girls that I've met in my life; I actually value my face. I know that every girl on this planet has insecurities, so why should I pretend to be any different? I am very well aware that I can't be perfect, so if I can't be that, then I'll just be me.
I slip into oxford heels. They aren't excessively high, but enough to make me look a little taller. I would prefer to wear my flats, but I don't like people knowing how truly short I am. I like to hide in my heels.
It wasn't a long drive in my run-down Comet car when I'd finally made it to the record store. I walked inside, smiling at the perfect strangers as I made my way to the appropriate section. I ran my fingers along the different records as I searched for Jason Walker. My fingers landed on Bruno Mars' record. I bit my lip, glancing down to the cash in my hand. I shake my head, breathing in deeply. "She's your friend, this is her money." I chanted softly to myself and finally I managed to move my fingers away from my favourite artist's record.
I was about to take a look at a Tim McGraw record when a bunch of other records came tumbling by my hands. I immediately reached out and caught them, saving them from their graceless plummet to the floor. "That was me, my bad!" somebody claimed beside me.
"Oh, it's perfectly fine," I said, gathering them and handing them to the stranger. He wasn't look at me as he went to grab the records and try to put them back in their places. I smiled slightly, recognizing him. I cocked my head to the side slightly, "Do you do this often?"
"Do I do what often-Oh, it's you," he said, finally looking at me.
"Yeah, it's me," I mimicked. He closed his eyes for a moment, laughing softly.
"I didn't mean it like that," he said. I laughed softly, nodding. "I'm not normally like this," he added, "It's just always conveniently happened when you're around."
"I must be your bad luck charm," I teased, helping him putting the records back. He shook his head, laughing slightly.
"Yeah, that's it," he replied, "First I spilled coffee on you and now I've practically taken your arms off by shoving records at you, I seem to be on some sort of roll."
I laughed. I looked over to the records and my eyes fell to Jason Walker right away. I grabbed it and pulled it out. "Is this his latest record?" I asked out loud.
I heard his soft chuckle, "Not a fan?"
"No, he's a very talented musician, but I've really only heard a couple songs. I'm buying it for my friend. She's gone to like every concert of his, in town or out of town." I told him. He nodded.
"Yeah, that is his latest record. It's really good, too. Your friend won't be disappointed with it." he said.
"Fan?" I inquired. He laughed slightly and nodded. I glanced over and noticed his fingers trailing along the spines of each record, putting them back in the exact place he'd found them. "You must spend a lot of your time here, yeah?"
He looked at me and then focused on his task of putting the records away, "Yeah, I do. Basically every day. It's my favourite store in Miami. I like it here; it's a good place to get some downtime, they're always playing really good music in here."
"I've noticed," I replied, glancing up towards the store speakers which were very softly playing a few tracks from Of Monsters and Men, a band I've grown to love. "If you love music as much as I'm guessing you do, why don't you get one here?" I pointed my thumb towards the window, "They're also coincidentally hiring at the moment."
"I would, but I'm really busy right now. I'm trying to find my way into the music industry as we speak. I've been sending in a lot of tapes of me to Record Labels and such. None of them have accepted me yet. That or they're too lazy to listen." he said, "I've also already got a job."
"Ah, well, that'll do it," I murmured. He laughed slightly.
"Yeah, I perform at a place called Melody's Diner," he said, "They hired me as an entertainer. I perform every Saturday Night and get paid loads." I pressed my lips together and nodded once. I knew his emphasis was sarcasm. "What about you? What do you do?"
"I work at a Local Music Store downtown. It's not as cool as this place though," I replied, "We don't play music in the store or sell cool records," I gestured to all of the albums in front of me, "Just simple instruments."
He laughed slightly and nodded, "But people need those."
"They do," I agreed, "I'm guessing you play?"
"Yes. The guitar, piano, drums, harmonica, violin(not very well), and I'm known to play the flute," he grinned over at me. I laughed slightly.
"Alright, and where's your record deal again?" I asked him and he laughed slightly. I knew that if he'd just listed that many instruments, he had to be at least be a little bit good.
"Do you play anything?" he asked, "I mean, you do work in a Music Store. You should be able to play something."
I laughed softly, nodding my head. "I do. Piano and guitar. Although I like the piano more. It's melody is softer and levels out better."
"I have to disagree with you on that one," Austin said, "The piano is slow and always sounds sad. The guitar is what brings the entertainment."
I clicked my tongue, "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Not true, not true at all." He laughed. I never imagined that the man who'd spilled coffee on me yesterday, would be the same guy that I had a full conversation about something that legitimately interested me.
"You want a bet?" queried Austin.
"Maybe I do," I challenged teasingly, but I noticed him digging through his pocket. He pulled out some money. He grinned mischievously at me.
"Alright then. I bet on ten bucks. Would you mind coming with me to my place and seeing for yourself? I'll prove to you that a guitar is more alive and cunning than a sappy piano." Austin said.
"You're on," I agreed quickly, "But first, can I trust that you're not some creepy stalker that's just trying to lull me into his apartment and kill me?"
He laughed slightly, "Do I look like I'm about to kill you?" he questioned. I eyed him. He did look harmless.
"Okay." I agreed. I quickly paid for the Jason Walker record and walked out of the store with Austin. I think I made a new friend today!
. . . . . . .
"No, no, no, listen," he said, strumming his guitar quickly and impressively. The talent was literally in his finger tips. He played a melody for a long while as I bit my tongue. I shuffled over to his keyboard that was sitting along the wall.
"Yes, but listen to this," I said, gliding my fingers along the keys, "It's so much softer and the melody is leveled." I couldn't help myself before I blurted, "It sounds like love in a music note!"
"Love in a music note?" Austin echoed, "That's pathetic."
I slowly turned around and gave him a look, "Don't tell me you're one of those I-Hate-Love kinda guys," I said, eyeing him. He pressed his lips together, giving me a shrug as if to say that I'd caught him. "You are!" I gasped. But how...How could anyone hate love? Love is everything and it's everywhere. It's between a mother and a child, sisters, brothers, spouses, boyfriend/girlfriend, a love for a pet, friendship, it's anything!
"Love is..." the most incredible, confusing, exciting, wild, horrible, and best thing! "Weird."
"Weird?" I echoed, taken aback.
"Yeah," he said, setting his guitar down, "I mean...You're obsessing over one person one day and then the next, you hate their guts. It's silly."
"It is not silly! And you're looking at the wrong thing. Love isn't obsessing over anyone or anything, love is a feeling. Like...Like when you eat a pickle after a long, tiresome day," I smiled at him, loving my use of a simile.
"I'd prefer pancakes," he replied. Turns out we didn't have a lot in common after all.
"Alright," I drawled, "Love would be like eating Butter Milk Pancakes every day. That feeling you get when you eat pancakes-" I stopped myself. Maybe this wasn't the best example. Love is so much more than a favourite food.
"Let's not put this on me, the real question is: Why do you like love so much?" he quizzed.
"Because love is love!" I exclaimed, "It's...It's the most indescribable feeling in the world. It makes you feel all these crazy emotions you've never felt before-"
"Have you ever been in love before?" he interjected.
I grimaced. "W-Well, no. But I will! One day! One day I will be in love and I will just have to come right back here and tell you I told you so, because you'll be in love, too."
He rolled his eyes, "Right." he said.
"You will!"
"No, I don't do love," he replied.
"Do you go on dates?" I crossed my arms.
"Well, yeah," he looked at me, arching his brows.
I looked at him, "If you don't do love, then why would you go on dates?" I asked him.
"I can go on dates, I just won't fall in love." Austin told me, matter-of-factly.
"That's stupid," I debated, "The point of dating isn't just to say you're dating. Dating is a tricky thing; You're either going to break up with that person or marry that person."
He laughed, "That's not true."
"Yes, it is! It goes Dating to engaged to married," I told him. He rolled his eyes at me. He started walking towards his kitchen.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"You're avoiding the subject!" I announced. He shrugged, rifling through his cupboard for something to eat. "Why wouldn't you want to fall in love? Don't you ever dream of somebody loving you? Or what it would feel like to love somebody else?"
"Not really," he said, his mouth stuffed with chips as he turned to look at me. I grimaced at the sight. "Look," he swallowed his food, "Just like you're happy believing in love, I'm happy believing that it doesn't exist."
"But it does exist!" I argued. He sighed in aggravation. "Sorry," I murmured, "But why wouldn't it exist? You're here because two people fell in love."
"Yeah, Yeah, I've heard it before," he said, searching his kitchen for something else to munch on.
"I'll prove it to you, Austin," I said. He slowly turned to look at me, arching an eye brow. "I will prove love exists." I told him, matter-of-factly.
"And how exactly are you going to do that?" he questioned, amusement alive in his eyes.
I hesitated, "I'm not exactly sure yet. But I will."
"Alright, but you're not going to succeed," he replied, shrugging.
"Maybe I will, Maybe I won't," I smirked at him before it faltered and I looked at him, "Does this mean we're friends now?"
He chuckled, "I guess it does."
"Great! - I...I mean...Cool...Cool," I nodded, trying to bite back my excitement. I had never made a friend so fast before. He gave me a look. "Well, I've gotta get back," I told him, pointing towards the door with my thumb. He nodded. "And just like I proved to you that the piano sounds better than the guitar, I will prove that love exists."
"The piano is not better than the guitar," he shook his head.
"The piano will always be better," I replied, walking towards the door.
"The piano is bulky and sounds sad," he said.
"The guitar is all over the place and loud. Softness is key!" I replied, slipping into my heels again.
"The guitar is portable," he said.
"That means nothing," I waved my hand dismissively. He rolled his eyes.
"Don't forget Jason." he said, handing me the record.
"I didn't forget Jason, I was just seeing if you were loyal enough to give him back," I said, taking it into my hands.
"No, you forgot," he argued.
"I didn't," I shook my head.
"Yes, you did," he debated before I shook my head and finally left his apartment. That boy has no idea who he is dealing with. Love does exist and I am going to show him. I'm not sure how, perhaps a lot of convincing? Who knows, but he will know that love does exist by the time I'm through with him!
Not proofread and I like reviews...
P.S. Did anybody catch the foreshadowing? *cough cough* "One day I will be in love and I will just have to come right back here and tell you I told you so, because you'll be in love, too" *cough cough*
;D
