All For You

𝟏𝟐.

𝐋𝐞𝐨

I smiled. Waving at the small yet loud crowd before I started to walk off stage. I took a small glance at the girls screaming my name and smiled awkwardly. The girls only started screaming more, I'm not really used to getting this much attention. Yet ever since one of our songs blew up all over social media, the club has been gushing with fans.

I made my way to the backroom, twisting the doorknob open and placing the guitar on the guitar stand before falling onto the couch. I picked up my phone out of my pocket to see that I had a missed call from my mom and a message from Iza. The preview of the text she had sent me was something to do with my guitar.

Oh no.

Did she do something worse to it? I swiped right to the notification, a full screen of the message appearing on the screen.

Squirrel: Stupid fucking guitar. I just wrote a few words on it, you could just fucking clean it off.

Me: You shouldn't have done it in the first place and cleaning it is going to take YOU a lot of time.

Squirrel: Not the time it takes to clean the fucking mess YOU made.

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as my mind tried to come up with a conclusion to what this girl was saying. I continued to type a message back to her. Me: What mess??

Squirrel: That thing on your- oh wait that's your face. How sad.

Me: You know a lot about messes so I'm sure you have seen your hair in the morning?

Squirrel: Shut the fuck up. Let me send you a pic of your mess.

Iza then sent an attachment of an image of a painting. How could I have forgotten?  The image she had sent me was a painting that I had placed in her room in order to get my revenge for what she had done to my guitar. It was a sunset painting that I had ordered online a few days ago, planning on pretending that I had painted it on one of her canvases.

The sunset was nicely painted. The artist had somehow managed to mix shades of blue, pink, and orange into one beautiful masterpiece. Which was a shame because now all I saw on that painting was a big red cross and a few ripped cuts along with some rude words scribbled onto it.

I smiled to myself and bit my lip to hold back a chuckle. Ever since I've met her, I have always loved making her mad.

Me: How am I supposed know how to fix the painting?

Squirrel: youtube exists sweetheart.

Me: baby sounds better. Although only from the right person saying it.

My phone vibrated in my hand with another message from Iza.

Squirrel: And the note? Respectfully my imaginary dick is bigger than yours.

Me: Wanna check?

Squirrel: Blocked 🙂

Just then my phone vibrated with a call. I answered immediately after seeing my Mom's name. "Hola, mi hijo." My mom answered, her voice happy and energetic. I could hear the sound of a busy market in the background.

"Hola mamá, how are you?" I asked, a small smile on my face. Suddenly the feeling of homesickness washed over me as I heard the busy market behind her voice. I had really missed everything in Spain, especially my Mom.

"I'm fine, but why did you not tell me about your girlfriend?" Mom asked, her tone changing from warm and cuddly to cold and harsh.

"What girlfriend?" I questioned, panic rushing through me as I coursed through the past events of the week. Pretty much everything summarised to arguing with Iza and singing, amongst the occasional boxing too.