𝓪𝓶𝓲

you tell that to yourself while walking the streets of downtown los angeles on a sunday afternoon. it's been five days since you last saw nikki, so why do you still care enough thinking about her?

her and her stupidly gorgeous smile, and that little—almost unnoticeable—beneath her right eye. and that sickeningly sweet smile and laugh of hers that made you cheese every time you heard it. you're unable to get her out of your head, and it's honestly a little embarrassing. but whatever, you're out and about to get her out of your head, so you'll try your hardest today.

as you wander the streets of downtown los angeles, you let the wind take you wherever it wants.

and, surprisingly, it takes you to a music store.

cassell's, it reads in bold red, cursive lettering on the sigh in the front. it looks decently sized, pretty clean, and not at all as sketchy as some of the storefronts down in this part of los angeles seem. you're not letting that fool you, though, so you guess you'll have to look for yourself. after all, this is where the wind took you.

the tiny bell above the door jingles as you push the door open and step inside, immediately greeted by drum kits, pianos, guitars lining the walls, and enough "taylor swift easy guitar chord" books to make your head spin with a symphony of her millions of songs.

you almost turn around.

because this was a terrible idea.

picking up a new hobby to get over a girl probably wasn't the best thing to do. and worst of all? the wind took you to a music store, where tortured poets come to make up chord progressions and put it all into a song that's the most vile, sad, and interesting thing you've ever heard. and you are not trying to do that.

maybe learning an instrument at your age would be embarrassing anyway. most people learn things way earlier on in life, but you? you wouldn't know how to name each string on a guitar even if your life depended on it... which says a lot.

so hey, maybe you should just leave.

you'll grab a cook book on your way back to your apartment for good measure, just to say you got something on your outing. even if you might let it collect dust in one of your bookshelves and never pay it any sort of attention again after tonight.

yeah. pretty solid plan.

"looking for anything in particular?"

no, i was actually just—

wait. you recognize that voice. and maybe you're starting to recognize it a little too well.

glancing up, you immediately forget what your original train of thought was. because the employee behind the counter is smiling at you, and the employee behind the counter is none other than nikki from the bar.

your nikki from the bar.

just to clarify.

for a moment, she just stares. then, like some small part of her brain remembered who you were, her entire face lights up with an even wider smile.

"what the hell?" she laughs, standing up straight from her earlier position slightly bent over the counter.

you immediately start smiling.

which is more annoying than anything in the world.

because her smile triggered one of your own and now you look like some loser who traveled the seven seas just to track her down and get her number. maybe. wait—wait, no, that's not even the reason you're here! goodness, you need to straighten up.

it's too late to that, however, as you step closer, murmuring a quiet, "hey, nikki."

her voice is higher in pitch, like she's both confused and happy that you're here. "hi, stranger."

without a second thought, nikki abandons the counter where she was pretending to work and walks over. her smile's still the same, and so is that cute little beauty mark beneath her eye, and so is her energetic aura and even brighter personality. she's just so attractive, like someone you'd want to be best friends with.

she prances over until she realizes she's maybe a step too close, and yet she doesn't move an inch. maybe it's because the nerves of your first meeting already worn off at the bar, probably because the fiery rivalry you'd both held. or maybe it's because she's comfortable with you, even if it's just a little.

you smile the moment she looks up, noticing the height difference. she has to be at least five foot, maybe five foot and an inch.

"did you follow me here, you weirdo?" she accuses playfully, jabbing a finger over your chest in the little space between you two.

weirdo.

it's funny that she's still calling you that.

but then the fear settles in, nerves all reacting at once. you don't want to be seen as a literal weirdo, so you immediately throw your hands up in a defensive manner.

"no, no!" you stammer, heat rushing to your cheeks. "i was just... i don't know, i just picked a random place and walked into it."

nikki hums, narrowing her eyes in a faux-suspicious manner, eyeing you up and down slowly like she's examining your body language. it makes you tense up, more than it did during trivia night, because she wasn't this bold back then. she's much more persistent without an audience to see her get under your skin.

her eyes drift back to you. "yeah, right."

you roll your eyes despite the nerves, feeling them fade away as the seconds pass.

a laugh erupts from the back of your throat then, face flushed and hands shaking lightly at your sides. every one of her facial features are so much clear up this close and personal, and you have to remind yourself that you're nothing more than acquaintances to each other and not anything beyond that.

you'd be lying if you said that fact didn't suck. even just a little bit. because she's everything anyone could ever want in a person.

nikki joins in on the laughter, finding yours more contagious than her friends'. it's a little odd to her, but hell, who really cares right now? everybody's on break except for her, so she'll use this alone time to flirt and spend the most time she can with you now that you've suddenly popped back into her life.

and, god.

it's somehow even worse outside of the bar. somehow doing worse things to your heart and soul than it did that one wednesday night.

at trivia, you could at least blame the adrenaline and your deep-rooted love for the game.

now she's just naturally like this, genuinely taking interest in the pieces of yourself that you have to offer.

"so," she sings, dragging the vowel. "what brings you into cassell's... the most amazing music store in los angeles, california."

she says the last part in a more monotone manner, throwing her hands up to exaggerate the words. it doesn't work, not really, and you definitely wouldn't be very enthusiastic or interested in buying something from this place if you were just some ordinary customer. it's clearly a bit, a slogan possibly.

you hold back a laugh anyway. "is that some kind of bit? it's... kind of horrible."

"for reasons that concern my position here at cassell's, no. it's something i have—something i personally stand by as an employee here," she explains, though the look on her face says the opposite. "now tell me, what brought you here? a secret calling?"

glancing around, you tap your fingers against the side of leg, trying to come up with a sentence in your head that doesn't make you sound lame.

but you doubt she doesn't already know.

so simply, you softly reply with, "honestly?"

"it's the best policy," she smirks, biting back a goofy smile.

exhaling slowly, you shove your hands into your pockets and stare down at her. you probably look like a loser trying to be mysterious or nonchalant. however, she knows you're anything but.

"okay," you murmur. "i need a hobby."

half lie, half truth.

you only needed a hobby to get someone out of your head. although, it's kinda hard seeing as that same person is standing less than two feet away from you. so now you're both lying to yourself and to the girl you're talking to, that's just great!

she cocks a brow, head tilting. "a hobby?"

"yup," you sigh. "i know."

"in this economy?" she asks, feigning bewilderment and dramatically pressing a hand over her mouth.

that pulls a out a laugh that's been sitting on the edge of your tongue since the second she walked up to you. her humor is a nice breath of fresh air from your friends' outdated, dry sense. you love them still, but they need to get over jokes from prehistoric times.

with her free hand, nikki presses it against her chest. wow, she's really taking this whole act to another level.

she nods. "that's incredibly brave, you know."

"thank you," you chuckle.

"no, seriously," she says immediately after, dropping her hands and getting closer as if anyone's around to really hear what she's saying. "most people just doomscroll and lay in their bed all day. i'm mentally applauding you for not doing the same."

you shrug in understanding, chill on the outside and absolutely giddy out of your mind mentally.

a few people wander the aisles in the back, some teenagers testing out riffs near the rows of guitars in the front. quiet melodies from pianos and keyboards come from the back and slowly drift into the main room of cassell's, giving the space a chill vibe. one that takes the weight of your nervousness off your shoulders just as quickly as it was thrown on when you walked in.

the smell of old polished wood adds onto that feeling, calming in an oddly weird sense.

and before you know it, nikki's reaching to grab your hand... and pulling away immediately after upon realizing that maybe, just maybe, you're not to that level of friendship yet.

either way, she makes a point to grab your attention somehow, and if that means nudging you a little harder than necessary, then so be it.

you wander deeper into the store together, the shorter girl guiding you through aisles of instruments and tools you've never seen before in your life.

that, however, quickly turns into nikki giving the least professional store tour ever.

every instrument comes with different sets of commentary.

every single instrument.

half of it is useful, but the other half? you're not even sure she's as qualified as she needs to be to maintain the position she's working. despite that, you're pretty glad she's working here and you bumped into her in the most unexpected way. plus, she looks really cute in the store uniform. the short sleeves almost swallow both of her arms entirely, and you have to fight back a smile every time she tries rolling them up only to realize she tried the same thing a minute ago and it didn't work.

as you approach the back of the store, you're met with another array of string instruments all hung up dangerously close to each other. you're almost scared to move, afraid even the smallest gust of wind from a tiny movement would push one instrument into another and send all of them crashing to the ground.

nikki doesn't miss the chance to blab her own explanation on the first instrument she lays her eyes on.

"this one's a banjo," she announces, her hand hovering over the weirdly shaped instrument. "if you couldn't already tell."

you hum, feigning amazement. "wow. thank you, nikki."

she cocks a brow.

then, in the same monotone voice, "i'm here to educate, stop being an ass."

a laugh escapes your throat despite your efforts to swallow it back down, and you throw your hands up in defense as if you weren't just so obviously being sarcastic. she can't bite back the smile that creeps onto her face, turning back to banjo to hide.

"no, i'm not trying to be," you murmur, "but i think everyone knows what a banjo is."

nikki audibly laughs.

"oh, you'd be surprised at the number of people who don't."

"...right."

she moves on before you're able to say anything else that's sarcastic enough to make her roll her eyes. though she's almost one hundred percent sure she'll be rolling her a eyes at you a lot later. to her, you're still a little annoying and a bit of a pest, but... she's slowly starting to come to terms with the fact that you're gentle, and kind... and a little too attractive for your own good.

okay. maybe you're not annoying or a pest in her eyes, but you don't have to know that. not verbally, at least. you can dream about her tripping over her own feet for you, because she sure as hell won't be doing that in real life any time soon.

eventually you make it even into a room stacked with orchestral instruments. more strings, of course, because what would music be without string instruments? or any instruments, for that matter.

none of the instruments here get even the shortest look.

well, except for the violins.

she physically recoils as her eyes pass over the tiny, delicate instrument.

"hard pass," she grimaces.

you glance over, curious. "what's so bad about the violin?"

nikki stares at you wide-eyed immediately, almost as if she'd seen something she'd never be able to unsee.

"i tried it once..." her voice trails off.

gesturing vaguely in the air with your hands, you encourage her to elaborate. "...and?"

she exhales, slow and sad in a way.

then she looks up through her lashes, blush creeping onto her face as if she's embarrassed about what she's about to say. "my instructor asked if i'd ever considered a different passion..."

her story triggers a laugh so deep in your chest you have to lean against a shelf to stabilize yourself. it's nice to hear her opening up so soon, even if it's a more embarrassing story on her part.

you won't judge.

but you might tease her about it from time to time.

nikki beams at your reaction, trying her best to hide the obvious light in her eyes. she's already making you laugh crazy and you're not even officially friends yet—no numbers exchanged, no real scheduled hangouts, nothing. and she's already got you hooked!

she looks entirely too proud of herself, but she doesn't have to know that you've been staring at her the entire time she's been twirling her fingers at her sides.

you stop by the front and check out a row of acoustic guitars next, and although you don't know much about them, every one on the wall catches your attention almost instantly.

scratch that.

you know absolutely nothing about them, but they look cool, and they sound cool more than half of the time.

there's one in particular that catches your eye—a pretty, dark acoustic on the bottom row. it's basic, sure, but it's beautiful in your eyes. the wood is perfectly polished, not to the point where it's shiny, but it catches the light every time you move in certain directions. by the look of the instrument, it looks like it'd be comfortable to hold... in the way you hold a guitar. oh, you're not very sure how to hold one either, so there's that.

nikki notices immediately, always attentive.

her expression softens a little, for just a moment, before that smug smirk of hers is spreading across her face once more. she's not missing out on the chance to tease you about this, even if just a little bit.

"oh," she hums, interested.

turning your head, you glance over. "what?"

she shrugs, like she has no idea either. "i don't know, you just seem pretty interested in those guitars."

stubborn as ever, you shake your head, standing your ground despite the shorter girl reading you so effortlessly.

"well... i'm not."

her eyes widen in faux-disbelief, a snarky comment bouncing on the tip of her tongue and waiting impatiently to jump out and attack you. she takes a step back, giving you a moment to really hear yourself.

she laughs out loud. "you absolutely are, don't lie."

you hate this girl and her observant tendencies.

but at least you don't have to awkwardly gesture toward the instrument and ask her how much it is and how to play it properly. thank you, nikki!

"...okay," you murmur, sheepish. "maybe a little."

nikki nods, grin bright.

without another word, she grabs the one you've been eyeing for the past five minutes and plucks it off the row of stands displaying the instruments.

your eyes catch a glimpse of the tag, and you realize that it's not as expensive as you thought.

and it's not too flashy, perfect for you. simple and seemingly beginner-level...

hopefully.

"try it," she says, grabbing your attention again, holding it out to you.

you hesitate, expression full of doubt.

"i... don't know how," you confess quietly, face flushed.

her expression goes flat. "well, duh. nobody knows how to play at first. that's the art of learning an instrument. or anything, for that matter."

and, like she realizes you're a little nervous, she softens her tone again. "here, i'll show you."

you take the guitar before she resorts to shoving it against your chest and pushing you onto one of the nearby stools scattered around the area. awkwardly, you stand there, unsure of what to do with the item in your hands. it's much lighter than you expected, the wood smooth and firm beneath your fingertips. you let them dance along the neck, feeling the strings slide across your skin as your left hand holds the neck.

nikki grabs the one of the stools you mentioned before, pulling it over and patting the seat. "sit. it'll be easier for you since it's your first time."

obeying, you take a seat, awaiting further instructions as you stare up at her like a lost dog.

before you realize what's happening, she's bending down beside you, showing you how to hold it. upon seeing the positions your hands are in, she carefully adjusts your grip and places them in the correct spots—one around the backside of the neck and the other resting lazily over the body.

her shoulder brushes yours repeatedly as she reaches over your body, comfortable enough to be this close and yet be as respectful as she can.

"like this," she murmurs, focus directly entirely on you.

you glance down at the strings, trying to even out your breathing and focus on anything else but how close she is.

inhaling, you press your fingers down on the strings she'd instructed you to place them on. then, hesitantly, you strum the strings over the sound hole. the chord buzzes, and you instantly look over your shoulder for her reaction—approval is something you're hoping for the most, but it didn't sound nearly as good as the songs you've heard. probably because you're not playing real songs yet, but still!

"okay," you hum, a small smile curling onto your lips. "i'm pretty sure i got it.

"you definitely don't got it," she answers without missing a beat.

you nod immediately, not even bothering to argue—even playfully—with her because you know it's true. "yeah. not even a little."

"nope."

she shakes her head with a quiet chuckle, stepping away a little and admiring her work. the warmth you felt earlier fades a little—not much, but it's noticeable enough that you shift in your seat from the sudden change.

"hey, honesty is important," she explains.

"the best policy, huh?"

"always."

you nudge her foot with yours.

she jumps away, startled. both of you laugh at her reaction, feeding off of each other as you sit there in the middle of the music store. she should definitely be helping a different customer, one that wouldn't take up her entire day and steal her away from people that really need her help and have questions, but she's quite enjoying the time spent with you in the back corner.

the sound of quiet laughter and soft chatter between you two is calming, bright, and completely unfair to both of you in different ways. in yours, her laugh and smile is absolutely unfair to you and your well-being. in hers, your gentleness and kindness is entirely too much for her to bear at such an ungodly hour of the day. it's sunday, too, the day before the week officially starts and people start flooding in like a tsunami. whatever. it's not like you're being disruptive, or rude, or like a normal customer. you're distracting, in a good way.

and when you finally manage to play something that resembles an actual chord, nikki throws both hands in the air and cheers out loud.

"hey, there she is!"

you laugh, half embarrassed, half proud. "that sounded awful. more than awful!"

"that sounded like progress to me," she dismisses, and you find yourself breaking out into a cheesy smile.

it sneaks up on you, so much so that you're unable to even catch yourself and potentially reel it back in. nikki's eyes gravitate toward you again, because there hasn't been a moment she you walked in where she wasn't paying her utmost attention.

she steps a little closer, eyes locked on your mouth. you convince yourself she's looking at your teeth and not your lips. but both would be great.

"nice to see that," she mumbles.

"what?" you ask, face flushing despite yourself. the heat on your face is embarrassingly noticeable.

"your smile."

you immediately look away, no hesitation in your movements. you even try hiding behind the guitar and end up almost falling out your chair. it only makes her own grin even wider.

"you know, you're pretty shy for someone who was literally wishing death on my teammates and i at trivia night the other day," she comments. "it's cute."

you sigh. "oh my god."

"i'm being serious. dead."

"nikki."

"what? i'm being completely honest."

"no, you're flirting," you correct, finally standing up.

she looks genuinely confused for a moment, because why can't she be doing both? she's flirting, yes, but everything that's coming out her mouth is honest. and she's always been true to her words.

"same thing," she ends up replying.

and now your heart is doing somersaults, backflips, and aerials all over the place. you've never been this weird and... interested in someone.

nikki is going to kill you.

with kindness.

eventually another employee pokes their head around a shelf nearby, catching the two of you.

nikki in particular.

you recognize the guy from trivia night, the one who stole an answer from you and embarrassed you in front of the entire bar. wellington guy, you've been calling him to your friends the entire week, but now he's wearing a store uniform. his name tag reads baron, and it's very fitting for a guy as scruffy as him.

"nikki," he calls.

she turns around, demeanor switching. "what's up?"

"...are you working today?"

the dark-haired girl blinks, suddenly remembering that she is, in fact, working today. she just got so caught up in you... teaching you the guitar, she means.

"oh."

without looking at you, baron leans closer and whispers something into her ear. he gives you an interesting look a second into whatever he's telling her, and something tells you that he's mosr definitely talking about you. bad, most likely.

nikki doesn't humor him. instead, she waves him off and tells him she's helping you.

she walks back over to you after making sure he's out of the room, offering an apologetic look. "sorry. don't worry about him, he's... weird."

"who is he to you?" you ask, softening your tone. you don't want to come as jealous.

the girl shrugs. "a friend. he's like a younger brother to me, but like, more annoying than i imagine having a sibling would be."

you giggle.

eventually you buy the guitar—mostly because you like it, partly because nikki spent more than half an hour convincing you that you could learn. and maybe a tiny bit because you'd like an excuse to come back and get free guitar lessons from her. nobody has to know about that, though.

when she walks you to the register and finishes ringing you up, she snags the receipt from the printer and grabs a pen from somewhere on the counter.

you watch her flip over the tiny piece of paper and scribble something messily onto the back.

"what's that?" you ask quietly, leaning over the counter a little to get a better look.

she slides it over the counter, smooth.

and at the bottom of the receipt, written in red ink, is a phone number etched into the paper.

it's her phone number.

"our customer support line," she chirps with a smile.

you blush.

nikki does too.

she can't help it. "if your guitar ever explodes, or you have questions on how to play different chords. or songs. or anything, really."

"i don't think guitars explode."

humming, she shrugs. "well, most don't, but there's a still a very slim chance of that happening."

you nod slowly, narrowing your eyes at her playfully as you take the receipt and fold it into your back pocket.

"...right."

she leans against the counter then, looking entirely too pleased with herself as she rests her chin in her palm. her eyes catch the light.

"so."

you tilt your head. "and if i can't make it here?"

the smile she gives you this time is softer this time, a little lighter than before.

she's enjoying this more than she'd like to admit.

but fuck it.

"then i guess i'll just have to come over and help you learn more," she hums. "and, in return, you'll grab me that drink you owe me."

"it's a date."

"or maybe it's a loser giving the winner the treatment she deserves."