•••••••••••••••••••••••Requests Open!••••••••••••••••••••••••
Will update upon receiving requests. Check chapter cleverly titled "⭐️Requests Open!⭐️" for more details (it's the 10th chapter!)
You can never have too many classic rock one shots, can y...
Muse: American Actress, Model and Singer Peggy Lipton Musician: American Singer/ Songwriter and Guitarist & Frontman of The Byrds, Roger McGuinn Time: Early Sixties
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Dottie always had a thing for those humble hole-in-the-wall guitar shops. The energy they offered couldn't be paralleled by any chain store, even with all the dough in the world. There's just nothing like growing close to the owners and knowing that you're supporting good people with your money. Conscious spending, they call it — it's the talk of the town these days.
She was a park ranger at a nature reserve not too far out of the city. It was the perfect job for her; she spent her days surrounded by greenery and animals. Working didn't feel like work at all. Every time she got her paycheck, she'd set aside the money for food and bills. The rest went straight into records and guitars.
Her dirty chucks beat against the sidewalk as she skipped down to the guitar shop that her friends had recently told her about: Redheaded Rick's Guitar Picks. Dottie recalled her friends' ceaseless raving about the incredible selection they offered, and she just had to check it out for herself.
The city breeze acted as a blow dryer for her long blonde locks, freshly wash and unbrushed. Dottie didn't care much for appearances, and wasn't the most fashion forward bird. She only owned a handful of plain tops and two pairs of pants: her trusty blue Levi's and some white and navy striped trousers. The fanciest thing she owned was a white button down with round, cloth buttons, and she only wore it when she felt the need to impress.
She did, however, find great joy in her little five paint and powder ritual: smearing liquid makeup all over her cheeks, combing on a little mascara, lining her puppy eyes and blotting on some tinted lip balm. Her weapon of choice was Revlon Touch & Glow, the go-to of every 60's girl, it seemed.
She came upon the building, stopping in front of the glass door to read over the sign a few times, out of habit. The chime of the little bell notified everyone in the shop that she'd entered, but no one seemed interested enough to look over. That is, with the exception of one man with an impressive head of tawny orange hair.
This must be 'Redheaded Rick'.
As if the bell had summoned him, the man of average stature with kind, black eyes sidled from behind the counter, walking up to greet the blonde. His toasted auburn hair was conked and styled into a luxuriously shiny pompadour that remained neat even with the heavy steps of his dress shoes. "Hiya, kiddo. What brings you here?" He asked, his voice deep and warm.
"I'm here to buy a guitar, sir!" She informed with a smile, delighted that the owner was so friendly. His burnt-sienna brows curved into mock confusion as he reached her. He offered her a large, coffee-colored hand for a polite handshake, which she enthusiastically accepted. Dottie immediately noticed the callous of his fingers and palms — these are a guitarist's hands, alright.
