Antagonist

1

Holy shit, I was so fucking nervous. My first day busking and I had no idea how it was going to turn out. The night before I had carefully picked out what I was going I was going to wear; it had to be something fashionable that my mum would approve of. I ended up choosing my black skinnies, nirvana shirt and studded black boots.

I turned 90 degrees to face my mirror and an utter mess stared back at me. My eyes were puffy from last night and mascara had smeared down the side of my face. I quickly grabbed a makeup wipe from beside me on my dresser and vigorously rubbed it all over my face and down my neck. I did a quick cat-eye with a few coats of mascara and I was done- I had never really been that into makeup, probably just because I was shit at it.

I checked the time and I realised I should have left the house 5 minutes ago. I looked over to my bed where my guitar and all the other paraphernalia were scattered. I quickly grabbed my capo and guitar stuffed it in it's case, grabbed my bag with my purse and phone and fled down the stairs. I checked my hair in the mirror in the hall, long black and straight with a braid down the side, my usual style. I shouted a quick goodbye to my parents who were, like usual, were both still in bed. I didn't even wait for a reply before I headed out of the door.

I was hit by the sudden cold breeze and felt fortunate that I'd remembered my favourite beanie, burgundy with gold flecks the same one that zoella was wearing in her winter favourites video. I pulled it down across my forehead and started the short brisk walk to the train station. I decided that I might as well go to London to busk because I had to get some shopping done in the mean time. I put my iPhone on shuffle and continued to walk down the virtually empty streets.

When I got to the train station the atmosphere had completely changed. There were tourists, business men and children all darting around frantically. In every direction I looked I saw floods of people and I felt like if I didn't move they'd swallow me up. I'd been to this train station plenty of times with my family before so I knew exactly where to go although I could still feel a slight anxiety build up in my chest.

I brought my ticket from the lady in the booth, went through the barriers and made my way to the platform. I checked my watch, 9:58; the train was to arrive in two minutes. I went though a mental checklist which I'd been preparing in my head: Guitar, yes: Money, yes: Phone, yes: Earphones, yes. But before I got to finish the train rolled into the station and the heavy metal doors slid open.