Hendrix ✓

3 ★ Money

𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕖𝕪 - 𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕜  𝕗𝕝𝕠𝕪𝕕

"Money, a getaway

get a good job

with more pay

and you'll be okay"

Hendrix POV

     I grumble as I push the heavy door open with all my might, a little bit upset with myself for taking such a stupid class.

     Music theory? Yeah, it sounded fun when I signed up, sure, but it is anything but. The amount of homework I have to complete in two days is absolutely ridiculous! Yeah, 3 hours of reading and an essay, and that's on light day.

     I don't know how I'll work until 1AM, finish this load of homework, and still manage to get a good night's rest. I guess I'm doomed.

     "Dumb music theory, who even needs college? Freaking homework."

     I continue to huff and puff while I make my way across campus, my hands clenching and unclenching on my backpack straps while I'm try to calm myself down inside.

     "Ugh." I moan, trying to push on even though my backpack feels like it's filled with a hundred bricks. I finally spot my bike and nearly fall over in relief as I pick up the pace to get there as soon as possible.

     "Yes!" I shout out in victory when I attack the bike rack, grabbing the metal in my hands and leaning on it for support.

     A group of girls pass by, giving me weird looks and I narrow my eyes on them before laughing nervously.

     "Nothing to see here ladies, I assure you." They stalk away glancing back at me. I shake my head and bend down, crouching beside my bike and twisting the lock back and forth, each number simmering in my mind until the metal pops open. My cheeks still burn from the stares of my classmates.

     "Nice going, now everyone on campus is going to think you're a freak." Wow, I really need to stop talking to myself.

     I dig into my bag, pulling out my trusty headphones. They are a little beat up on the outside, but they have always been reliable. I plug them into my old iPod and blast some Led Zeppelin.

     Even knowing the tunes are loud enough for anyone around me to hear, I really couldn't care less.

     Never be ashamed of music, baby girl.

     I come to an abrupt stop before I climb onto my bicycle. Those dumb words need to back up, I'm not in the mood for moping today. Any thoughts of my Daddy tend to do that to me, and I can't handle it sometimes.

    Stubbornly clenching my jaw to try to forget them, I start pedaling away. I weave through an endless sea of students wandering around campus. The shade cast by the trees paints long, mesmerizing lines on the sidewalk.

     Simple things like these are what make my day bearable. Especially when I'm on my way to work.

     It's essential, going to work for hours on end that is, but I hate it with a burning passion. Working as a waitress does that to a person. But here's the thing, I need the money. Desperately.