Conversations With The Moon (Bruno Mars One-Shots)

Lessons

It's the summer of 2002, Bruno is 17yrs old.

To earn some pocket money Bruno has been offering guitar and ukulele lessons to people from his school and in his area on weekdays. He has a standard hourly fee but has recently begun offering packaged deals. Recently he's been giving lessons to a girl from his school named Raine to play ukulele. She is infamous. She's broken the hearts of a quarter of he guys in his grade and two in the grade above. She's hardly every single and even when she says she's in a relationship it's often with multiple guys. She wears alot of make up and treats life like a high fashion runway. Personality wise, she can be friendly when she wants to but she often comes off as snarky. Not many people really know her.

It's a Friday, 4:40 in the afternoon. It's very sunny but not too too hot and the sea is warm.

"Oh my God. You're in love." Ryan's eyes go wide and he shakes his hair out of his face. He and and I swim toward the shore until their feet can touch sea floor. He climbs back up on his board and settles in the center of it. A small wave comes in and pushes us even closer. Pleasantly warm rays pout down over us and calming salty breezes blow around us.

"I am not!" I yell back immediately. I splash him, he laughs out loud and runs his hand over his face clearing it of the sea water.

"I can't believe this, she finally got to you," he teases. "You swore you wouldn't fall for her."

"I'm telling you, there's nothing between us."

"Bullshit." He laughs throwing his head back and puts on palm flat on his board to stabilize himself.

"Fuck you," I reply. I punch in his direction but I hear a 'whiff' instead of a 'oof'. He laughs again. 

"She asked me to teach her to play ukulele and I that's all I'm doing."

"Ok, whatever you say B." Ryan turns and begins paddling back out to sea. I Follow him, we get up on your board and paddle into the on coming wave. Just as it starts to curl we climb up on our boards. The water curls and Ryan cuts me off and I swerve out of control. The water pulls me under and I instinctively pull my arms and legs into my chest. I feel the wave runs over me and when it settle I swim up to the surface as quickly as I can as my lungs scream for air. Once my chin clears the water I gasp drawing in air. I look for Ryan to see him a few feet from shore peering out at the water. He waves his hand over his head. Holding my board I swim out with it and meet him.

"You ok?" he asks putting his hand on my shoulder.

"You fucking wiped me out," I gasp between breaths.

"You're good though, right?" I nod and run my hand over my face to clear it of the water.

"You shoulda seen it, I shot the curl."

"Yeah. yeah, yeah," I reply as I wave him off. "I could've but, I missed it 'cuz of you." I splash him and paddle out until I can walk out of the water. I stand my board up in the sand and start getting dressed, Ryan soon joins me and does the same. Once we're dressed we start toward home and go our separate ways to our own houses.

"Bruno?" I hear my mom call.

"Yeah mom, its me." I reply as I slow my roll on my route toward the room I share with Eric.

"Are you hungry?" I back track and head to the kitchen to find my mom standing behind the counter with Spam sandwiches set on a tray. I grab one, walk around the counter and kiss her on the cheek.

"Thanks mom," she grins at me and head to my room. I set my things down and hang my wet clothes on the sill of my open window. The I have a quick shower and search for something to wear. I decide one of my any Hawaiian shirts, a black one covered in orange flowers with green leaves, khaki shorts and flip-flops. I grab my ukulele in it's case and pull it over one shoulder then I grab my sandwich and head for the door.

"I'm off to a lesson, ma. I'll be back later."

"See you, be back before it gets dark!" She calls back. I walk back to the beach and take off my shoes so that I can feel the sand under my feet as I walk. Within fifteen minutes I'm at the hang out. It's a small place some people from my school, my friends and I chill at from time to time. It's comprised of second hand furniture, some handmade, some refurbished by us and various decorative items. I walk in to find Raine already there. Her dark brown hair is pulled up on top of her head in a high ponytail, curled. She has on a full face of makeup and she's showing alot of skin as usual, wearing a grey ribbed tub top with a denim cut-off jeans with platform flip-flops. Has a small yellow purse on the table next to her and her ukulele sits on the table.

"Hey," I say as I raise a hand to greet her. Her chestnut brown eyes meet mine.

"Hey." I take a seat in front of her and she picks up her instrument and faces me. For the next ten minutes, I run scales with her and then we get back to working on of the first song I learned to play: You're Are My Sunshine. After fifteen minutes of that, we take a break and I set my instrument down to crack my fingers. Raine and I now sit in the light of the nearly setting sun paired with the light from a nearby battery-operated lamp. I stretch my arms and then settle into my seat again. She glances at her instrument and sighs heavily before rolling her eyes.

"If you don't like playing, why are you doing all of this anyway?" I ask. "You're the last person I would think of to want to play this."

"He likes girls who are musicians. I sing but I don't play an instrument." I scoff and shake my head.

"You're doing this for some guy?"

"You're judging me?"

"Me?" I retort.

"You thrive on attention, you're always showing off." I chuckle under my breath and look on her face seem to fall even deeper into annoyance.

"I'm just saying," I begin. "You shouldn't have to change yourself for him. If that something you feel you have to do, he's not worth it." Her the annoyance on her faces slips a little and her eyes lose the sparkle they have when she's giving snarky replies. "If it were me, you wouldn't have to do much. You're already beautiful and you sing, I'd be with you for you; not for what instruments you play, what clothes you wear or how much make up you put on."

"You mean that?" she ask.

"Yeah," I reply. "I don't need much."