ೃ⁀➷ In the year 1994,
Maya Bennet travels to New York to attend a famous music festival, Woodstock. After stumbling into the wrong tent when searching for her lost boyfriend, she has an odd interaction with a handsome mysterious stranger. A year l...
𝐑𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐘𝐞𝐥𝐥 | Billy Idol 𝐆𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧' | ZZ Top
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Hopping out of the car with a burning cigarette pinched between my lips, Maya turns in her seat with her arms resting down on the side of the car as I approach the petrol pump beside her.
I breathe in harshly one last time before I pluck it from my lips, and keep it held tightly between my fingertips as my eyes wander over the writing taped onto the pump. 'Enter store to pay.' It reads as the smoke slips from my parted lips.
"That's really dangerous, you know?" She says and I turn and narrow my eyes at her, though she can't see with them hidden behind my glasses. "I saw a movie once where a guy went up into flames because he was smoking and filling his gas at the same time. I'll hold it for you if you'd like to save it."
I tiredly laugh under my breath. "Which movie was that?" She shrugs her shoulders, stubbornly holding her hand out in front of me with her fingers curling back. "I have to go in and pay anyways. Thank you, baby." I hand it over and watch her head nod before I lean down and kiss her lips. "Be right back, behave."
"I always do." She scoffs as my brows jump up before I lift my glasses and place them on top of my head, pulling my wallet out of my back pocket as I start walking across the way. "Hey! Can you grab me a slushie?" She adds on as I reach the door, looking back over my shoulder just to see her. "Please?"
Nodding my head, a smile curls up on her lips before she leans back in her seat with the smoke filling in the car. I then turn back around and walk into the building, staring at the older man that's counting change behind the counter.
"Morning." I say and he just looks up at me, not saying a word before he looks back down and continues shuffling through a few dollar bills. "Nice talking to you too, dick." I mutter quietly to myself as I walk past him.
"What was that?" He grumbles.
I look over my shoulder, pointing at the stack of food lined up in front of the register. "I said beef jerky makes me sick." I smirk and his eyes roll before he looks back down and refocuses on the money in his hand.
Everyone's got a stick up their ass around here. You would've thought somebody died.
Well . . . nevermind.
I walk to the back of the store, adjusting my jeans around my hips as old Elvis song plays through the speakers; muffled from the loud machine in front of me.
Staring at the frozen sugar the spins around, I pull a cup out of the stack and pull down on the handle to fill it up with the cherry flavored option as I look outside and keep my eyes on her through the foggy glass.
