The 100 Day Phanfiction Challenge

Poor

Phil's head perked up as he heard a very beautiful song played on a guitar, not very far away. He followed the beautiful chords, not quite recognising them. A young boy of around fourteen was playing a rather tatty guitar with the case laid out in front of him. A few odd pennies were in the case, obviously just coins no one wanted. Phil pulled out a £5 note from his pocket and placed it into the case, completely mesmerised by the music.

The boy stopped playing for a moment to say a quick "thank you" to Phil, who smiled widely.

"You're really good. What is that song?" Phil replied, his heart rapidly beating inside his chest.

"It's an original. I wrote it about my mum."

"That's really sweet. You're so talented, you know? I expect to see you in the music store in a few years time... oh, and in the charts."

"No pressure," Dan laughed; his laugh was beautiful and it was like music to Phil's ears. "I doubt I can do it though. No one would want to hire a poor kid like me who can't even eat three meals a day."

"They might. I haven't seen anyone as talented as you in a long while. I have a feeling you could go places."

-

Phil was right. One day a music producer had passed Dan in the street and heard his beautiful music. They had talked to him and asked to listen to a few other songs. Dan had got hired and, as Phil predicted, he was selling CDs and was in the charts within a few years.