SHATTERED

fifty-five

alex

"well, look who finally decided to come back," dave, one of my old coworkers at the music shop, said as i walked inside. "finally back from tour, huh?"

due to the fact that we were on tour for a month, i quit my job here before we went on it. we each made a good amount of money from the tour to hold me over for a while, and we're still going to be doing gigs here and there, so it works out.

"yeah, for a month or so now," i chuckled.

"and you're only just now coming back here?" he tsk'd. "how was it?"

"it was unreal, dude. i can't even describe it," i shook my head.

"well, don't forget us now that you're famous," he teased, which made me roll my eyes.

"i'm not famous, but okay. anyways, i just wanted to come by and look at some guitars."

"oh, are you buying one today?" he raised a brow.

"i shouldn't," i trailed off uncertainly.

"nonsense; there's nothing stopping you," he said.

"except that i have five guitars already," i pointed out.

"oh, you got another one?" he looked a bit taken aback.

"while i was on tour, yeah; i got another acoustic. it's just a mini one, that was easy to bring around everywhere," i shrugged.

"so... three electrics and two acoustics?" he questioned. i nodded. "what would another electric hurt?"

"dave," i sent him a look.

"look, you don't have to buy it or anything, but we just got a guitar in that i think you'd like," he explained, then gestured for me to follow him. i did so. "i know you're more of a fender kinda dude, and you don't play gibson's... but look at this les paul. it screams you."

i looked at the guitar he was talking about, and i had to refrain from dropping my jaw. it was an ebony les paul classic. it had a sort of off-white accent. it honestly looked sick.

i dunno, there's just something about black guitars that really do it for me. i've always thought they looked really cool.

"don't do this to me, dave," i sighed as i reached out to pick the guitar up.

the weight of it was a bit of a jolt. i was used to my lighter fender guitars and my dean flying v. granted, the les paul weighed only a few more pounds, but that definitely adds up when you have to play a long gig using it.

dave smirked. "i thought i hit the nail on the head. you want to play it?"

i hesitated. "fuck it. yeah."

he grinned before we walked over to an amp that had a cable plugged into it. he handed the cable to me, then turned the amp on and adjusted the volume once i had it plugged in. i took a seat so that i could play, since the guitar didn't have a strap on it.

it only took me a handful of seconds of playing on it for me to let out a long, low groan. "fuck, man. you really had to show this to me?!"

"so... you love it?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"unfortunately," i dipped my head.

i glanced down, and i watched my fingers glide across the fretboard as i played. i honestly really liked the way it sounded and the way it played.

i still like my telecaster more. i don't think any guitar could replace it.

"are you going to get it?" he asked.