Breaking Suburbia

Dreams do come true.

Maggie felt the thickness of the afternoon sun on the back of her denim shirt as she walked into that same music shop. The glockenspiel bell had lost its lackluster, but only because she had planned this moment out to the very last detail so nothing would throw her off guard. For once, she had this strange air of confidence around her, but that all changed the second he glanced toward her and a faint sparkle glimmered in his eyes as he cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear.

Her façade was crumbling; she trudged through the fictional remnants lying on the floor as she brought herself to the counter. A hushed ‘one minute’ with a finger was the only reaction she could muster out of him. Pursing her lips together, the waxy coating of lipstick she’d intricately brushed on in front of the gilded mirror at home reminded her of her stupidity. She, of all people, put on lipstick. Pathetic.

She rhythmically tapped her fingers on the counter, the thumps sounded where the click clacks of nails should’ve been. Maggie sighed, she was a mess. It was foolish to come here. “Hey there!” Chester cheered; the most welcoming tonality brightened the room, making the strings on the guitars vibrate. “You look very nice today.” He complimented, in the friendly way.

“Thanks.” Maggie husked, forgetting to apply her fake tone along with the other fake things that adorned her. Bracelets? She inquired soundlessly to herself. Maggie Wentworth did not wear bracelets. Maggie Wentworth barely got dressed every two weeks.

“What brings you to this fine establishment today? Everything alright with the guitar? What a beautiful sound it has about it, huh?” He carried on. This sort of small-talk was just so… Carelessly easy for him. This was Chester’s second nature.

“Yeah, it is a beautiful instrument.” Maggie spoke clearly. After such action, a huge pride welled up in her core. Things were changing, and while she wasn’t an optimist, she’d be a fool to not believe in a brighter future. “I was looking for a… Capo clip.” She stammered briefly.

Chester leaned in, and Maggie fought to stay rooted where she was. He was coming closer, as if he were to whisper a secret into her ear, but stopped at about a foot away from her face. “What color?” he cheerfully asked, backing away to look at the rear wall, the metal contraptions all hanging from the wall.

“Surprise me.”

He swiveled around, studying her with scrutinizing eyes. She hesitated, smoothing down her crop pants, staring at the shoes that were beginning to create blisters on her heel. “Surprise…You?” He chuckled, but in a serious air, like one would chuckle at a funeral at the mentioning of the deceased small quirks. Maggie wouldn’t know that though, having been the only one at her mother’s funeral.

“Yeah, surprise me.” She smiled, saying that simple phrase was freeing. The shackles fell.

“You know how to use it, right?” He asked, almost in a patronizing manner, as he began ringing up the purchase. It was a green clip.

Maggie nodded, frowning at the color choice. Green of all colors. She tried to take her mind off of the color, as it was a quizzical matter. “Yeah, sure.” She raised an eyebrow, not knowing why it was any of his business.

“You don’t.” He teased.

Maggie stuck her tongue out. This elicited a reaction from Chester, a smile, a chortle. This simple reaction made her happy. Happiness? Was that the emotion that made her feel warm, that made her mouth twitch into a toothy grin that displayed the small, but undeniably there, gap in her front teeth? “I’ll learn.” Maggie rolled her eyes, her characteristic blunt responses taking a less piercing tone to them as opposed to their usually icy and rude undertones. Placing her manicured hand on the plastic packaging, she felt the contours of the device.

A warm counterpart laid a top of her smooth hand. She’d worked hard to buff out the rough and dryness of the rear of her palms. His hand was calloused, as it firmly sat on hers. It was the perfect blend. Milk and tan coffee.

After ogling the gesture, her head rapidly snapped up to a leering Chester. “I should teach you.” He suggested. Peaking one eyebrow in genuine and innocent interest.

Maggie kept her hand there, letting a grin loose that had been buried in her core. “You should.”

While Maggie was lost in the moment and undeniably thinking like an optimist, her reason within her told her that nothing good could come of this, that this would just end in pain and suffering. But the pleads of instant gratification overpowered and took yet another ignorant life that was previously destined for greatness.