We're So Different But I Love You Anyway
Numero Dos
They met one afternoon in September. It was cool and clear outside. She was walking home from Victory Music. She was a regular customer. So was he. He was going to Victory Music for some strings. She had just bought a pick guard. The bell on top of the glass door chimed as she fell to the ground with a thud. After he realised that he had run into her, he helped her up, apologizing profusely.
"I'm so sorry. Here, let me help you." He said helping her pick up her purchase.
"Oh, it's alright. Thanks." She said, appreaciating the help.
He had expected her to be bitter. She was actually quite the opposite. She wasn't harsh or rude; she was softspoken. Her appearance was neat. She was clean. Her dark, curly hair was pulled out of her face. But she was still one of them. So he wondered why she was so nice. Unlike his clothes, hers were fitted and contained no holes or tears. His were baggy and ragged. Her T-shirt was clean, without stains. His button-up was old and dirty. It had been washed the night before, but it still held stains form previous occassions. He wasn't a dirty, unclean person. He was relaxed. Her shoes were worn out, black sneakers. His boots were dusty and scuffed. He noticed that her bag contained a mint green pick guard.
"You play?" He asked a little astonished.</br><br>"Yeah, do you?" She asked laughing due to slight amusement.
"Yeah, I'm actually here to pick up some strings." He said with a smile.
"Oh cool. Have fun." She said as she walked off.
He remembered that he handn't introduced himself or asked her name.
"Hey! Wait a second!" He yelled afer her.
She turned quickly. He ran after her.
"I just realised that I didn't ask you your name." He said a little out of breath.
"Adrienne." She said with a laugh.
"Billie Joe." He said extending his hand. She shook it. He smiled and began to walk away.
"Nice meeting you." He called.
"Same here." She said giggling.
"I'm so sorry. Here, let me help you." He said helping her pick up her purchase.
"Oh, it's alright. Thanks." She said, appreaciating the help.
He had expected her to be bitter. She was actually quite the opposite. She wasn't harsh or rude; she was softspoken. Her appearance was neat. She was clean. Her dark, curly hair was pulled out of her face. But she was still one of them. So he wondered why she was so nice. Unlike his clothes, hers were fitted and contained no holes or tears. His were baggy and ragged. Her T-shirt was clean, without stains. His button-up was old and dirty. It had been washed the night before, but it still held stains form previous occassions. He wasn't a dirty, unclean person. He was relaxed. Her shoes were worn out, black sneakers. His boots were dusty and scuffed. He noticed that her bag contained a mint green pick guard.
"You play?" He asked a little astonished.</br><br>"Yeah, do you?" She asked laughing due to slight amusement.
"Yeah, I'm actually here to pick up some strings." He said with a smile.
"Oh cool. Have fun." She said as she walked off.
He remembered that he handn't introduced himself or asked her name.
"Hey! Wait a second!" He yelled afer her.
She turned quickly. He ran after her.
"I just realised that I didn't ask you your name." He said a little out of breath.
"Adrienne." She said with a laugh.
"Billie Joe." He said extending his hand. She shook it. He smiled and began to walk away.
"Nice meeting you." He called.
"Same here." She said giggling.