Seven Deadly Syns

“Indigo, my darling. Have you found anyone good yet?” My boss asked, twirling around in her spinning chair, picking the dirt out from under her nails.

“No one. There’s people that are potentially good, but when I ask them to play for me, they actually sound like shit.” I groaned internally, knowing another couple weeks without scouting anyone would result into me getting fired.

“Really? Look harder Indi! There has to be people out there for you to scout. I’ll see you again next month. If you find anyone come see me. Be gone.” She snapped, shooing me out of her office.

I ran down the hallway into the lobby, waving goodbye to the boy at the front desk who was always working when I came here for a monthly check up with the boss. He was a nice guy, but I didn’t bother to even start small talk with him. He seemed like a prick on the inside, and I avoided those kinds of people. I hated those people.

I shoved my hands into the small pockets of the short shorts I wore and slouched back, flipping my pink bangs away from my face. I scanned the streets for anything interesting, anyone with rough guitarist looking hands, or blistered hands from drumming, maybe a few splinters. It was disappointing when i didn’t find anyone with those kinds of hands. Everyone had perfect, soft looking or rough looking hands, it annoyed me so much. Where did all the singers, guitarists and drummers run off to? I need to scout you guys, Jesus.

I sighed and moved my hands from my pockets, pushing my bangs from my face. I turned the corner and felt something hit my face. I fell backwards in shock and rubbed my cheek, there was a small scratch. “What the fuck?” I questioned out loud, looking around for that might have hit my face. There was a small guitar pick on the ground behind me. I groaned and went to pick it up.

“Fuck! Zacky, you hit a girl” a panicked voice yelled.

“I’m so sorry, I was trying to aim for this fuck face!” Another shouted.

I turned around to face my culprits and let out a small squeak. They were both kind of scary looking, I regained myself and held out the guitar pick to anyone who wanted it back.

“It’s alright, just a scratch.” I chuckled.

The boy who didn’t take the pick out of my hand, held out his hand to help me off the ground. I took it and he flung me up, like I was nothing. I stumbled forwards into his chest, I regained my balance by grabbing his shoulders and steadying myself out.

“Sorry, I just needed to stand... Uh, weird... Hey, do you happen to play guitar?” I stuttered, moving back. I got a good look at his hands and my eyes instantly lit up.

“Yeah, I do... How did you know?” He asked, curiosity sparked in his voice.

“Your hands are all rough and what-not. They just seem like the kind of hands to be playing the guitar.” I shrugged.

“Ha! See Zack, even this shrimp girl notices my awesome talent” He smirked proudly.

“Shut up Brian.” Zack groaned, shoving the pick into his pocket.

“Sorry I hit you, but we got to go. We were just on our way to our friend’s house” Zack said.

“Oh. Its fine really, just a scratch as I said. And I'm not that short!” I waved him off. He grabbed Brian’s hand and dragged him away.

“What’s your name?!” Brian called out.

“Indigo Star!” I yelled back with a grin and I continued my route to my lonely house.