Wildfire (A Katy Perry and John Mayer FanFiction)

Who You Love

2012;

You love who you love. The words have been kicking around in my head for years. Now all of a sudden I feel the need to write a song. The only set back i have is that I don't have anyone to love. I've grown a reputation of "Mayer the Player". Ever since I developed that horrible state of depression I've been a lazy ass mess. I'm hardly famous actually. No one really pays attention to me anymore and I'm kinda just used goods if you ask me. But I wouldn't say one hit wonder because I've definitely shared my claim for fame.

I've been fooling around in the studio lately just playing old songs and talking to my manager Troy. I've never particularly liked him but he still finds a way to get me a few gigs here and there. "Hey? John? You okay there man?" He asks me as I continued to stare at the crimson colored walls of the dark and closed in studio room. There was only one dim lamp on. I blink my eyes so it removed the thin layer of dryness.

I got up out of my stool and placed my guitar down. I realized that I needed a new one. I've had this one for a few years. "Yeah. I'm actually going to get going. See you tomorrow...or whenever." I replied to him carelessly. I was still thinking about that song and what I finally wanted to do with it. My mind still wasn't made up.

Troy just shrugged it off and rolled his eyes. I didn't blame him for being so fed up with me. "Well bye." He said in his deep tone of voice and I scoffed.

I knew I had to find at least someone to do this song with.

At this point it didn't matter who it was.

It could be one of the Kardashian's who can't even sing for shit and I wouldn't mind.

I was desperate.

Once I was down the long hall I reached into my pocket to get my iphone and decided I was going to walk to the guitar shop that was just a block away. The fall air was a little hot for my liking but considering it was California and I was so used to living in Montana all the time it was pretty decent.

My swollen eyes looked down at the ground and my long hair was now greasy and coarse. I basically had dreadlocks but I covered it with a hat all the time so no one would notice. I looked like a drunk even though I wasn't. The circles under my eyes have become more defined and my cheekbones have stuck out more than usual. But somehow i didn't care at all.I wanted to care about someone else and not myself.

The streets were pretty busy and my body was a lot more tired than I wanted. I wanted to be that fun and energetic person again like I used to be. I didn't really want to be Mayer the Player anymore.

When I saw the familiar sign that read Norman's Rare Guitars in red and blue bold lettering across the front I opened the transparent glass door and walked inside. It was busy like usual and the workers knew me in there. I'm sure they were happy to see me but for them to see me in this state was not normal. I haven't been in here for a while. Maybe even a year. I used to come here all the time.

"Hey John!" A friendly worker greeted me. I just sorta fake smiled and waved but forgot his name. I haven't really been friendly with anyone lately.

I decided I was going to go to the back of the store so no one would really try and start a conversation with me. I kind of just want to be left alone.
I crept behind a few stands to try and make my way to the back when I suddenly bumped into a shelf and felt something crash on top of me. "Oh. Shit." I snapped while lifting the big shelf on top of my body. I was on my side on the ground and I wasn't quite sure if anyone knew I was back here so they could come and get or help me.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry!" An average height woman with a short black bob said to me and lifted the shelf off of me. She was hiding her eyes with a pair of classic black raybans and I can say she had a pretty nice rack too. That didn't really matter though obviously. "Can I help you up?" She asks me awkwardly. Her face had turned bright red as she held out her hand for me to grab onto.

I shook my head. "No no." I insisted. I was completely embarrassed and I sounded like a jerk but i wanted to just pick out a guitar already so I could go home and be by myself again.

She tucked a piece of her short hair behind her ear as she bent down and started picking up the guitar picks that had scattered all over the ground. "Sorry about that." She said shyly. Her voice was light and it almost sounded like she was about to cry. I knew she wasn't though.

"I don't know why you're blaming yourself it was clearly my fault." I chuckle and get up. I didn't bother helping her pick up the remaining guitar picks which was pretty selfish and rude.

She grabbed a handful and placed them back into the box then attempted to put the box on the top shelf of the stand. "Well. I'm Katy." She smiled and looked back at me as she tried to reach the top shelf. She couldn't really and I was actually just laughing inside my head. Then the next thing I knew she fell backwards. But Before she could hit the ground I caught her and she yelled.

"Whoopsies!" She giggled. I didn't bother to laugh because it wasn't that funny. She almost just hurt herself. Once I helped her fully get up she placed the sunglasses on top of her head and looked at her feet. "Sorry." She said with wide eyes. Her eyes were already big. "I'm a bit of a klutz myself." She added.

I nod and look away to try and not look at her. I didn't want anyone to see me like this. "Oh and this one must me yours." She smiled and handed me my guitar pick. It had my initials on it so she must've known who I was.

"Thanks." Was all I felt like saying. I basically ripped it out of her hand and placed it into my pocket.

"So what're you doing here?" she asks and starts to look at the back wall of guitars. I followed her and put both of my hands in my khaki pockets.

"I was just looking for another guitar." I said simply. I wasn't really in a mood to talk.

"Oh! Same here but none of these are really my style." She laughs. "I like more of the acoustic guitars." She turned around and smiled. "So what kind do you like?"

"Well I have plenty at home so I don't really know why I'm here actually. I'm sort of like a guitar hoarder if that makes sense."

She winks and walks back to me. "Yeah I get it. I do the same thing. So...what have you been up to?"

"I'm actually trying to release another song. It's more complicated then you think though." I scoff and cross my arms.

"That's great! I've been waiting for new music from you for ages!" She explains. It was quite thoughtful of her too. I never hear anyone say that anymore.

"Really?" I ask.

"Yeah of course. Well if you need any help with that song here's my number." She says and opens up my hand. She places a small piece of white paper inside but knowing that she's Katy Perry she probably has a whole stash of those in her purse.

I didn't say anything and she just ended up leaving. Her heals clicked on the fake wooden floors and i could hear the bell on the door ding a few times before she was gone. That was odd.