the songbook

Sweetie

My dad is the founder of Gucci, I could ask for anything and get everything I wanted. But I'm not a stuck up princess who believes the world bows at my feet and does whatever I say. I don't go to expensive clothing stores and buy an entire mall nor do I waste money on items I'll use once and burn. You can usually find me in arts and crafts stores, bookstores or vintage clothing stores. I've got this hobby where I redesign things to my ideal.

I had just filled my black duffel bag of paint tubes and a few paintbrushes and threw my wallet in, along with a few other artsy items. I plugged in my earphones into my phone and shuffled my playlist with one hand while the other held my earphones. When the song began to play, I stuffed the buds into my ears and swung the bag over my shoulders. I walked down the spiral staircase and through the foyer. I went to the large, brown door and slipped my black vans on.

My dad wasn't home as usual and I had free time so I danced to the bus stop. Humming to my music, I didn't realise that I had collided with a boy who was around my age. He had ice-blue eyes and a bit of his blonde hair poked out from his black hoodie. You could see his sharp jawline and paper-like skin.

"Sorry," I muttered, looking away to hide my red cheeks. He was cute, alright?

"Whatever." He shrugged off and walked to the bus station.