bracelet // a.i.

one

"excuse me, brielle, you can't be wearing that many bracelets while working."

the manager told me everyday, but i couldn't listen. the uniforms needed something to spice it up, i told her, and she would roll her eyes and continue on until the next day.

this has been going on for days, weeks, months; since i got my job here, but each day she would simply roll her eyes and leave me alone. i think she doesn't mind much, just continues telling me to do her job right.

sure, maybe wearing so many bracelets while helping customers find music is a little ridiculous, but we're at a shop for music, for fucks sake, and we don't sell pop shit. what is wrong with wearing my rubber band bracelets?

i didn't see the problem, but the manager did.

i always hated all my co-workers, they were stupid little girls with no good music. you would think them being surrounded by bands like all time low and the killers would knock sense in their hollow fucking brains but no, they continue to scream over bruno venus and katy perry, or whatever.

so at work i talk to nobody, only the occasional customer who comes in to buy a cd.

today it was just me, i had the closing shift. alyssa left after once again correcting my bracelet issue. i had been working all day, actually, and it wasn't busy.

instead of lazily sitting behind the counter, or organizing cds like i should have been, i decided to sing along to the music that was playing. i turned it up, bopping my head to therapy.

a customer came in mid chorus, and i smiled weakly and turned down the music. "no, it's alright. i quite like that song." he spoke, walking further into the shop.

"hi, do you need help?" i asked, not bothering to turn it down any more. he didn't seem too concerned, either.

the boy looked at me and smiled. "do you have the cab?"

"of course!" i nodded, motioning him to follow me. i took him to the section, pointing to the band. "they're such an amazing band, deserve more recognition."

"right?" he said, looking through the cds in search of whatever he was looking for. he picked up their most recent, smiling at me again. "i'm ashton."

i have never seen ashton before; surely if i had, i would have gotten his number. it would be an understatement to describe him as hot. ashton was gorgeous, in the sense that i wanted to stare at him all day and eat salsa out of his dimples.

"i'm brielle." i responded, and i began cleaning up the cds.

ashton walked around, picking up a few more as he talked. "this is a cool store." he noted, and i nodded.

"it's fun to work here, to be surrounded by all this good music. kind of tempting not to steal some albums, though." i laughed, and ashton laughed too.

"i can imagine. you're here alone?" i nodded, and he made his way to the counter, five purchases in hand.

i began ringing him up. "yeah, my manager just left." ashton rested is arms on the counter, and i took notice of his rubber band bracelets. "wow, looks like you've got quite the collection, too." i noted.

"these?" he shook his arms. "yeah, i don't take them off."

"neither do i." i revealed. "i get yelled at everyday for it."

it isn't like i need them on, i just like them.

ashton raised an eyebrow, and i continued to ring him up. "your total is 32.76." i said, and he pulled out his wallet.

"damn, that's cheap." he handed me a credit card, and i swiped it for him.

i nodded. "yeah, i guess that's another thing about this place. killer prices."

the reciept started to print, and i did my signature smiley face and thank you i was trained to do. "while you're at it, why don't you write down your number, brielle. anybody who loves bracelets as much as me is worth talking to."

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so yeah here's the ashton one and brielle is pretty punk i imagine her with colorful hair idk tho

the part about his dimples ive been laughing for five minutes

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