High strung: Micheal Clifford Imagine

More than okay with that

Ok hi before you start reading I have a terrible habit if not updating for a while, my chapters are sorta short and I'm terrible writer so please no hate
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You walk carefully down the sidewalk with your gig bag on your back carrying your broken acoustic guitar. It had been on your back the other day in school when a group of your bullies shoved you into the lockers. Jerks. You felt proud when you had your guitar. Stronger, more confident, but unfortunately, it didn't actually make you stronger or any braver. Anyways, you were taking it to a guitar shop you looked up that stated that they could fix your precious acoustic.

You stopped infront of a small shop and looked up at the hanging sign, 'High Strung'. You chuckled to yourself and rolled your eyes.

As soon as you walked in musty air and music you never heard hit you like a brick wall. You looked around to see guitars hanging on the walls and cds lining shelves. You then looked to see a boy sitting on a stool behine a desk picking on a guitar with head phones on. He was gorgeous and for a moment you considered turning and leaving but instead walked over to the desk.

"Hello." You said. "Hello?!" You said again, a little louder. The boy jumped and looked up at you with sparkling greenish blue eyes. You jumped as well. "Sorry, I didn't hear you." The boy apologized, removing the headphones and setting the guitar down on a stand. "No worries, I'm in no rush." You shrugged. He gave you a smile, studying your face for a minute as you took off your gig bag and set it on the desk. "So what can I do for you?" He asked unzipping it to reveal the guitar. The neck was crooked and two strings broken. "What happened?!" He asked alarmed. "Some bullies thought it would be funny to see how good they could smash me into a wall. I'm okay but my guitar isn't." He looked at you with sympathy. "Well, I'm Michael, first off, and I'll see what I can do." You shook his hand and smiled, "I'm _____ and I trust you." He grinned and carried your baby ( guitar) to a back room labled 'carpentry'. You looked at CDs for awhile until you heard Michaelyell from the back room, "Feel free to play any guitar you like!" You smiled and walked over to the stand where he set down his guitar. You sat on his stool, picked it up, and began to play. At first you just strummed chords quietly, not wanted Micheal to hear you but once you got into it you started playing like the store was your stage. "You're incredible. Your voice is beautiful." You then heard Michael say with a huge grin on his face.You stopped playing and closed your mouth, unaware you were even singing. "That's really embarassing. I love your guitar though. Did you finish?" You changed the subject. "Unfortunately, I have a lot of work to do and I'm not sure how long it'll be so you might have to check in every week ." He shrugged. "I'm actually more than okay with that." You blushed