Bands imagines.

Danny Worsnop

|| Dedicated to @Kristine_Allison. 

|| want your own? just inbox me ||

Enjoy

I took another sip from my coffee as I turned the page in my textbook and highlighted another section. I really should’ve done the assignment the night before, but I was working. I sighed, completely stressed out and about ready to punch something.

My phone vibrated from my pocket. It was a text from my friend Rita.'Kristine, where the hell r u?' I glanced at the time on my phone and panicked; my first class started in five minutes. I threw my book into my backpack and slung it over my shoulder, grabbed my coffee, and flew out the door. I slammed straight into someone’s chest, my coffee spilling over both of us. Nice going, Kristine. We both started apologizing at the same time, our words mixing with each other’s.

 I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking!"

" I’m sorry, are you alright?" 

I brushed the hair out of my eyes and blushed, taking a step back. The stranger did the same and shoved his hands inside his coat pockets, only to pull them out again and run a hand through his hair nervously. He was handsome and His hair was pretty long and disheveled, a fair amount of stubble crossed his face, and sunglasses shielded his eyes.. The stranger smirked a little when he noticed my pink cheeks. 

"Sorry about that, love, can I buy you another coffee?" 

"That’s really kind of you, but I have to get to class, I’m already late. I’m sorry for running into you, really, it was my fault." And with that I hurried past him to campus.

 Classes passed by slowly and I was grateful when my last period finally got out. I put in my ear buds and strolled across the campus toward the bus stop. It was a little chilly out, especially with the breeze, and I regretted not bringing a jacket that morning.

I grabbed a seat on the bus before it became overcrowded with college students. No more than thirty minutes later, I was sitting at my stool behind the counter at Underground Sound. Thursdays in general were always rather slow, so I sat on my stool in the empty store for the greater part of the day, writing in my song book.

then it was nearly eight, the bell chimed over the door and there was a bit of rowdy laughter as four or five guys filed in, several of them holding beer bottles. They paid me no attention, which was fine by me. I went back to writing and minding my own business.

"Is anyone working here?" One of them called from the back.

"Yeah, whatcha need?" I called back, hopping off my stool and heading back to find them.

A tall head stuck up over one of the shelves. His face was pale and handsome, his hair long and black. He waved a little and bent back down with his friend, a skinny guy with shaggy brown hair and two lip rings. I helped them find the guitar strings and picks they were looking for.

I was about to head back to the counter when a muscular guy wearing only an open denim jacket informed me in a deep British (and drunken) voice that our bins of drumsticks were empty. I blushed and bit my lip, apologizing. Is it really that hard to keep a few bins full, Kristine?

"Sorry about that," I murmured with a polite smile as I headed to the back storage room. On the way there, I saw one of the Brits, one with messy dark blonde hair, leafing through the records with a bored expression.

As I lugged out a few heavy boxes and restocked the bins, I noticed the bored one had disappeared and yet another man, a shorter one, was admiring the bass guitars we had on display. The tall muscly one thanked me for the ‘droomsticks’, which was actually sort of cute, how he said it.

I heard one or two of them laugh from behind a different shelf.  Jesus, these guys are taking over  whole store. It seemed like the guys were all set, so I headed back to the counter, where one of them was waiting. I noticed he was reading the open page in my notebook and I blushed, hurrying over.

"Um, hi," I said, stepping behind the counter and laying my hand over the book possessively. But his hand went there too, keeping it in place as he read the last few lines on the page. The little smirk on his face seemed familiar.

He looked up at me. “You, my dear, are rather depressing.”

I blushed bright red, struggling to come up with something to say. Then my face turned even redder, if possible, once I realized that I recognized this man.

"Why would you say that?" I asked, trying to avoid eye contact. He removed his  sunglasses and furrowed his brow at me. Then his grin grew wider and he let out a little laugh.

"You’re the girl from this morning, aren’t you?"

"I.. I um, yeah."

“You never said goodbye,” he pointed out with a small smirk.

“Well I never thought I’d see you again.”

"Funny seeing you here then."

"Well I work here so…"

"Why are you blushing?"

This did not help the redness of my cheeks. “I… well, you did just insult me.” Oh, yeah, real good excuse.

"Wasn’t an insult. I assume you wrote this?" He gestured toward the notebook, which I snatched from the counter and closed shut.

"Um, yeah."

"Depressing as fuck, love."

"Thank you," I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes. "Can I help you with something, sir?" 

He laughed and looked at me with a little twinkle in his eyes. “I am no ‘sir’. Danny. Danny Worsnop.”

The name rang a little bell in the back of my head, but I couldn’t remember where I’d heard it. “Nice to meet you, now can I help you with something?”

"Aren’t you going to tell me your name?"

"No."

Before he could continue, his laughing friends came over and plopped their purchases down on the counter. I rang up several drum sticks, guitar picks and strings, and several records, as Danny introduced me to his friends; Ben, Cam, Sam, and James.

I couldn’t help but notice how handsome they all were. No, screw handsome, they were sexy. And all too soon, they were out the door. Well, except for Danny, who hung back, leaning over the counter.

"We’re closed," I said to him, pointing to the clock on the wall that read ten past eight.

"Are you kicking me out?" he replied, amused.

"Yes, actually."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Um… You’re Danny, you just told me."

"But you don’t know who I am?”

I shook my head slowly. He just looked at me for awhile, that same small smirk on his face. He seemed confused, but also slightly relieved; though with his sunglasses back on, it was hard to tell what he was thinking. Suddenly, Danny pushed off of the counter and took a few steps back, toward the door.

"I’ll see you later," he said, that sexy British accent weakening my knees.

"What makes you so sure?"

Danny opened the door, pulled down his sunglasses, and winked with a mischievous smile. “Trust me.