UNDER EXTREME EDITING

Chapter 7- A Sass-Off and Paul the opera/viking singer

Georgia's P.O.V

I brushed aside a droplet of sweat that had trickled down my forehead. After the windows were replaced, as well as the floor, we had moved in various decorations and things to give it a "boutique" feel.

It was a big improvement from it's previous state. Before, it was dark, dim, almost gothic. Now, it was brightly lit, with a little bit of an old fashioned feel to it. 

When we had completely renovated the shop- which took days, believe me- Melinda literally picked me up and hugged me so hard, I thought I'd suffocate. "Thank you so much!" She cried, literally, buring her face into the crook of my neck.

I awkwardly pat her back, and laughed. "It's no big deal. But when this shop gets famous..." I winked jokingly, and she burst into a fit of giggles. 

"Deal!" She wiped a stray tear out of her eye, and proceeded to fix her eyeliner that was smearing. She looked at me curiously. "Hey, what eyeliner do you use? It really brings out your eyes."

I blinked. "Um, I don't wear eyeliner... I mean, I wear a little makeup, but I hate eyeliner..." Melinda gasped overdramatically and grabbed my face, trying to see if I was lying. After she was satisfied, she let go.

"I envy you." She said. "You don't have to worry about smearing your eyeliner if you cry!" I chuckled, then turned my attention back to the shop. 

"I think you're ready for business!" I smiled, turning the sign over to "open" 

Melinda grinned. "I think you're right!"

*A week Later*

Business was slow at first, but soon, a steady stream of customers came in every day. Mel was thrilled, of course, as was I. It was enjoyable going to work at the shop everyday, but it also felt odd at first.

I mean, my life before this wasn't exactly "work".

It wasn't that I didn't like to work, or that I was too lazy to, it was because if I did work, my dad would make me go to his office and help with his patients and intern there. Watching him work in their mouths. Ew.

So, then came my rebellious stage. I partied everyday and all night, literally until midnight.

I drank.

I smoked.

I did whatever it took to get me away from reality.

Scary thing was, it wasn't even MY reality or MY life.

It was all my dads.

I was jerked out of my thoughts when a young girl asked me if she could play the guitar. I smiled and nodded, laughing when her eyes lit up with excitement, and she bounded over to the grand piano in the side of the room.

This was one of my favorite parts of working here. Everyone who loved music, and could play music would often try out the guitars, violins, or pianos. While other music stores might be against the idea of people touching the instruments, we allowed it, which was probably one reason why we were becoming popular.

The girl began to play the guitar, although, she made some mistakes in the middle. She stopped and frowned, taking her fingers off the string, and setting the instrument down beside her. 

I looked around, and saw that Melinda was doing just fine with the customers, so I walked over to the girl, sitting next to her on the bench.

"What's wrong?" I asked the girl who was pouting slightly. She kind of reminded me of my younger self; big, brown innocent eyes, round pursed lips, and not to mention, a slight overbite.