𝕾𝖎𝖙𝖚𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘 || 𝔈𝔪𝔬 𝔅𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔵 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔒𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔰

𝕳𝖔𝖜 𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝕮𝖔𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖎𝖉𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖑 || 𝔐𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔶 𝔚𝔞𝔶

𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔟𝔶: MrsVintageEmo

•••

"Damnit," I mutter under my breath. I tap my foot impatiently by the foot of the couch as I reposition my fingers, awkwardly splaying them across the fingerboard.

He nods in approval. "Now try again."

My pick strums over all four strings.

And I still hear the buzzing. It doesn't even matter that my fingers are positioned correctly.

Sighing quietly, I purse my lips and allow the bass to lower down. "I'm sorry, Mikey, I don't think I can do this." It's hard not to let the frustration seep into my tone.

"Hey, it's no problem. Believe it or not, you're doing really well," he praises, flashing me a crooked grin.

My heart skips a beat, and I quickly avert my gaze to my black Fender.

"Bass isn't easy, you know," he continues. "I know a lot of people think it shouldn't be different from guitar, but they all have their little differences and own quirks...and pains-in-our-asses."

I shrug with a sigh, tracing the D string with my pick. The amp makes it sound like the intro to a metalcore song. "I guess. It feels like I should've been getting the hang of this since I picked it up though."

"But you've made a lot of progress since we started," he remarks. "Chords aren't usually played on bass very much either so it's gonna sound gross the first few times. Don't worry about it–you'll get used to it." He pats my shoulder reassuringly.

I look down to hide my flushing face as electricity shoots from the spot where his hand landed. Damnit, why does it have to happen every time?

"Thanks, Mikey," I mutter with a smile, even though he can't see it. "I really appreciate the free lessons."

"It's written in our contract that any opening musicians touring with us require free lessons from the bassist. I get paid the big bucks so I had to take it," he shrugs, lifting his brows. The corners of his lips twitch.

I roll my eyes playfully. "Whatever. It doesn't affect my life that you're not doing it from the cockles of your heart anyway. At least I get a free bass, and it goes amazingly hanging next to my guitar in my bus," I jab as I reach over to nudge his shoulder.

He dodges, smirking at me as I miss. "Aw, how cute, keeping it on display for all your band to see."

I scowl at him. "It's a nice model and it goes with our decor."

He snorts. "It's a starter bass. It's not that great, but whatever you say." Rolling his eyes, he leans to his other side to pick up his bass from the couch. 

That's when I grab one of the red throw pillows and fling it at him.

"W–the hell?" he squawks as it smacks him square on the shoulder.

My snickering doesn't last long as Mikey sets his bass carefully back where it was and leans forward. I back away, but can't escape as he suddenly reaches out to tickle me.

"Mikey, quit it!" I scream, smacking at him but to no prevail. He moves his arms out of the way and continues to dig his fingers into my ribs.

"What's wrong?" he titters, climbing on up the couch to get me better.

"You know damn well what's–ugh, get off of me!" I yell through huffs as my arms flail in vain.

This only causes him to tickle me harder, chuckling as he sees my helpless attempts to free myself. "Apologize."