Irrelevant: A dark love story

Chapter 4

"Stalkin me huh blondie?"

I assume he's referring to my blonde hair, typical, yes I know but what can I do, I was born with it.

"I'm here for the job," I scoff more exaggerated that I intend. My eyes shift over all the furniture in the room. Scattered coaches arranged in a somewhat orderly fashion along the walls. The space is about as big as the average persons living room. After my eyes shift over the the couches and chairs, absorbing it all in, they settle on him, then down to the floor...then back at him. He twists his face into an insincere smirk and rotates once in the desk chair he's sitting in. While he does this he plucks at the guitar that's sitting in his lap, a beautiful shade of light wood with wavy designs on the front, that I assume to be stickers. They almost look like sound waves. He spins back around and settles in his spot, eyes intently focused on me...they're a perfect light shade of brown I might add, and his hair is tousled to one side of his- 'NO!' I mentally curse myself for letting my mind run wild. 'He is not hot. He's a jerk. He's an imbecile' I chant in my mind.

I guess he notices my metal focus and silence because he intentionally coughs, dragging me back to the moment. I jump a little.

"Right. Well, anyways. The boss told me to come in here and you would show me the ropes." I plaster a fake smile on my face as if nothing had ever happened between us. He says nothing, and not being able to stand the tension any longer I then turn around and rest my hand on the door. It's a leathery material, plush and soft. It's what helps the room to be soundproof.

"Well I'll see ya out there!" I fake a cheery tone. I feel his eyes burning into my back so I quickly exit, the door swinging behind me. I turn to face the door and we catch glimpses of each other through the swinging of the door, and my heart beats faster each time our eyes lock.

I wait for about ten minutes, almost visibly irritated that he is taking so long. I chew gym, I pace, I idly check text messages that I've already opened and responded to. Anything to pass the time. I'm about five feet from the door when he decides to come out. He saunters over to me like the king of the world. Confident and eerily dark, like his mind is full of things the normal

person couldn't stand thinking about all day. I find myself wondering what exactly his mind is full of.

"Hey love," he says most insincerely and with the dirtiest smirk I've ever seen, "let's get started."

God! His tone is so condescending. His eyes feel like they're boring holes through my clothing. Its not that I can tell I'm in no danger of liking him. He's a prick, not to mention dangerous.

He took me throughout the shop, pointing to different apparatuses they use to tune the guitars, showing me where they're stored, giving me solutions to wipe down the guitars with, teaching me how to string the them. As we drone on I realize I still have no clue what his name is...and as we come to an end I feel relieved.

Throughout the entire time, there was not one moment when I felt comfortable or safe. I was always on edge, and I got the feeling everyone else is when they are around Wesley too. I realize that makes me all the more cautious around him.

As soon as my briefing is finished I faintly smile and say, "thanks," trying not to look directly at him. After a second of thinking he adds another lady minute detail. "One second I gotta show you something in the back room."

I display a confused look on my face but follow anyways. He takes me to the very back left corner of the shop and we stop in front of a white door that blends in with the walls. If it weren't for the metal doorknob you'd forget where it was. He reaches his hand out to turn the knob, but does it very slow. I am puzzled but figure it is just another ploy to make me angry. He stares back at me over his shoulder and pushes on the door, revealing a small dusty room, dimly lit. He motions with his arm as to say 'ladies first'. I oblige him and walk into the cramped room, totally unsure of what's going on. The door slams shut and I jump, suddenly getting worried.