"Her" || m.g.c.

110 days before

I was too scared to ask her.

It was such a simple task, "hey, by the way, what's your name?"

So easy, right?

Then why the hell couldn't I do it?

The pass few days she's been coming in and doing our normal routine. Pick, play guitar, then we smoke a little, she leaves.

Was this not normal or something? To start developing a small sort of friendship with someone who doesn't even know your name? Nor do you even know theirs?

I tapped my foot against the shelf anticipating the moment she would walk through the doors. My mind consumed in what it could possibly be.

Jennifer?

Madisen?

Amber?

Catherine?

Emily?

Something foreign like, Shira?

"Hey, what's your name, miss with the guitar, you're not allowed to play that, you have to buy it."

My thoughts were interrupted by my manager, Ashton, speaking to the girl.

Her eyes bore into Ashton, even scaring me a little. Bad move.

She began yelling and screaming at Ashton, and he was arguing back.

"I come in here every god damn day and no one says shit to me but because you think you're some high and mighty honcho you can order me to leave? Bitch I hope the fuck you do!"

"You have no right to speak to me like that, I should have you banned. Who are you to speak to me like that?"

"Fuck this place, you abominable goat."

All eyes were darting between her and Ashton, spitting at each others faces. Just as she was running out, I chased after her. I was letting her leave to easily.

"Wait, stop!" I spoke loud and clear before grabbing her wrist slightly.

"What do you want, you rat?" she spoke harshly.

"Listen, I can have you arrested with a restraining order for what happened back there, but I won't if you do me a favor."

"What the hell do you want?"

The moment of truth.

"What's your name?"

Her expression softened and her gaze followed the floor.

"They all call me Trouble."