Tiger Stripped Leggings {Joshler}

Birds of a feather_Cp 4

Brief pauses of silence fill my ears, the shaky golden cymbal fading in and out of silence. Slowly I watch his face stare in utter shock, the only noise being the Australian madam in the front, chatting away on the line.
Blinking a few times, he pushes himself off the dirty brown carpet, walking towards me. I still have my hands up at this point and lower them quickly, body feeling sensitive to the sudden figure peering in front of me.

"Sorry if it wasn't what you wanted. I'm not very familiar with any other songs besides rock-style classics. My dad taught me how to play as a child, so I'm not entirely great-" I ramble on, feeling for the worst of scenerios to be coming true, before he cracks a pleasant smile. His eyes reach mine.
"Dude, that was sick." He laughs, lightly placing a hand on my shoulder.

All the tension I felt previously rushes out, chilling my bones and forms a sea of warmth in my chest.
"You mean it?" I say without jumbling over vowels.
"The part either with the bass or intricate beating pattern was the most fascinating thing I've heard or witnessed today!" He congratulates, swirling around with his arms out, looking up at the dusty low ceiling. My eyes follow his body, staring in amazement at this phenomenon I've never witnessed before, wondering why not.

Plopping on the ground he lays his hands behind his head, looking dreamily at the ceiling.
"I wish I could get out of here. This job is temporary. My dad is friends with my boss over there-" He nods his head over to the front counter, sighing loudly.
My hands play nervously in my lap, grasping the drumsticks like a lifeline. Calming my heartbeat, I ask,
"Who are you?"

The tanned stranger lifts his head, face neutral, and ends up in a pained, almost crackling laughing fit. I am unused to this hurt reaction and start tensing up, hands shaking followed by bursts of anger and confusion all at once. My hands uncontrollably slam on the drums, stopping his laughter short.

Hot lashes of blind light cover my eyes, making me feel idiotic for even having this anger.
"Do you find me to be stupid for not knowing?" He starts to stare, like the rest of them. Like all of them.

"How would I know who you are? Don't laugh at me!"

Tossing aside the precious sticks I rub my eyes, shooting the now quiet man a bitter look. Forgetting my sweater completely, I pick up my dignity as I stride out of the back of the shop and to the front, ignoring the manager's confused open questioning mouth.

"H-have a great day, Sir!"

'I can't go back there...' I think and sigh, picking up my pace and rushing out of the mall doors onto my bike-heading home once again.