The Music Store

The Music Store

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing27m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Fri, Dec 26, 2014
I looked around the store for the customer, to find him looking at the guitars. He was looking at his phone, as if he had no idea what he was doing. Normal. I stood off my stool and walked over to him. "Um, sir?" I asked and tapped the male's shoulder. He turned around swiftly, a look of alert on his face. I stifled a laugh as I looked up at him. "Do you need any help? Is there anything you're looking for in particular?" "Oh, um yeah," he chuckled nervously as he looked down at me. I nodded as I waited for him to continue. "My friend broke his guitar on t- I mean on a road trip and I wanted to get him a new one. It was partially my fault," he chuckled.
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I silently stared out the window. I had been here for three hours, just staring at the spot in the driveway that her white BMW had been parked next to my navy blue camero for three and a half years. For three fucking hours, I had tried to force at least one tear to fall, but the tears just weren't there. The usual sting of disappointment was gone. Willing your self to cry is impossible, just like forcing your self not to fall in love or just trying really hard not to. The girl who threw me a surprise birthday party, who has been through everything with me, who I used to think about everytime I sang, who told me she loved me... The girl that I was supposed to be madly in love with, walked out my door three hours ago. My phone started ringing in my hand and I contemplated picking it up. Still staring at the spot in my driveway, I answered. "Hello." I mumbled almost inaudible into the phone. The sentance that came out of Harry Styles mouth, made me drop my phone to the floor.

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