The Bodega Boy

A Day in the Life of Dean Winchester

Dean's POV

That morning Dean had been woken bright and early by sam's eight a.m. army bugle alarm clock. He groans in protest, not wanting to get up after only a handful of hours of sleep. "C'mon deano, we gotta get you some breakfast" Sam says, his tone almost sing songy.

"How are you even functioning right now" Dean grumbled, turning over and pulling his blanket up over his head. When it's yanked off and dean is suddenly cold he sighed.

"Come on. Up. We have a lot on our schedule" his tone is more serious now. Dean huffs and sits up, getting up and getting some clothes for the day. He ends up showering to help himself wake up some more. Sam takes this time to start getting some phone calls out of the way. They were mostly about press releases and new songs the label wants to get recorded for dean's next album. Everything was always go go go, every day they had to hit the ground running. Sometimes Dean didn't remember why he wanted to do this in the first place.

When Dean turns the water off after washing his hair and body he dries off and gets dressed right away. He wears a red hoodie today since they are gonna be out and about, and he didn't want to run into that cashier in public. He knew the guy wouldn't recognize him, it would just be easier if they didn't happen to run into eachother and chit chat. He blow dried his hair and then brushed his teeth. He's still sluggish and tired, so at this point he's just functioning out of spite.

When he comes out of the bathroom he gets his socks and shoes on. He's thinking about drinking a glass of whiskey to shake off the rest of the grogginess, but Sam quickly rushes him out the door. They meet up in the lobby with dean's current body guard. Dean doesn't actually know his name. What Dean knows id he's a big, mostly silent man with a thick accent. Dean also knows he hasn't seen crack a smile even once. He sports aviators and one of those gray earpieces with the curly wire on it. Dean feels like he takes his job way too seriously. Although, to be fair, the man had also saved his ass a few times with some less-than-friendly 'fans' in the past. As well as with a couple of handsy fans.

As they walk through the rain to the car and get situated Dean sighs lightly. He remembered a time he used to enjoy all this. The only thing that made all these shitty day trips worth it was when he finally gets on stage. When it was just him, the microphone and his guitar. All it took was a couple familiar chords and all his tension would leave his body in one fell swoop. As of late, not even his shows were enough to bring him out of his funk.

This all started when Dean was about seventeen. He'd been goofing around on YouTube. He had an account he made covers on. It was something to do to distract him from his day to day life, he never once expected to make it big someday. After all, the account didn't get much traction, atleast not at first. He'd only had a handful of regular viewers and subscribers. he mostly did it for himself, because he genuinely liked singing.

Then one morning he woke up with so many notifications he couldn't even read them all. His computer crashed more than once trying to go through the mountain of Comments, likes, and new subscribers. There were people saying he was talented and asking if he had any original content, when his next cover was gonna come out. There were even song suggestions on what people wanted to hear. Each video post started getting more and more views.

It wasn't long before he started getting recognized as the 'guitar boy' out on the streets. People wanted to take pictures with him, for him to sign stuff. Which was wild to Dean. He wasn't used to getting so much attention. It was motivating though, just the push he needed to start writing his own songs, getting his ideas down on paper. When he had enough he put together a demo. Sam, the thirteen year old genius, helped him through the process of figuring out how to contact a publisher or record label. They were eager to see what Dean had offered. When Dean had a demo CD burned they sent it off, and dean was probably the happiest he'd ever been. In awhile.