𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 ━━━ B. RODRIGUEZ

1.3 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙚𝙘𝙩

Y/N'S P.O.V
July 20, 1963
Leaving my instrument on the porch, I called out for Hercules but got no response. I called him again and this time a dog, a familiar English Mastiff, come and tackle me to the ground licking my face. I laughed. "Hercules!" After a good long greeting, he got off of me and I sat up, wiping the slobber off my face with my sleeve. "Hiya bud." I talked to him. He barked at me as I started petting his head. "How are you? You didn't cause any trouble did you?" I questioned as I looked at him. He whimpered and looked down, continuously rubbing his paw over his snout. I looked over at the fence to notice that it was knocked down revealing a sandlot. I cocked my eyebrow up as a smirk was beginning to form.

"Hey, cool guitar." I heard that being emitted from behind me. I quickly got up and turned around to see the guys looking at my guitar. The same guitar that no one touches. Ham was about to pick it up but I being very defensive about it yelled, "Don't touch my guitar." I menacingly said. It quickly caused him to retract his arm back. I walked towards them and closed the guitar case. I noticed that I sounded rude which caused me to feel extremely bad. "I'm so-so-sorry if I sounded r-rude, but no one to-touches my guitar without my per-mission." I took the guitar case from them. "Why?" Timmy said. "Because it's-it's special to me." I looked down at the guitar case causing a small smile to emit from my mouth. "Someone special gave it to me."

"So do you know how to play?" Hamilton asked me. "Yeah, w-why wouldn't I?" I sarcastically replied as I picked it up and went inside. The boys followed behind me. "Can you play something for us?" Timmy asked soon followed by Tommy asked me. I smiled at him. "Sure." I nervously said as I sat down on the couch and took out my guitar. I was very nervous and worried to play for them since I never played for anyone else other than my family. It was nerve racking but I didn't want to seem rude.

What if they didn't like it?
What if they think my playing is horrible?
What if I mess up?
What if they don't like it and call my playing horrible because I messed up?

I took a deep breath as I pushed those thoughts away. I shakily grabbed the pick and let out a strum.

Perfect

That strum helped my nerves calm down a little bit. I took another deep breath and brought my foot up and let it fall back down repeatedly, creating a beat to go off of. This also helped me calm down and my very shaky hands became slightly shaky hands. I positioned my fingers and began strumming the instrument. One pluck after the other. I continued this re-creating an old rhythm I grew very fond of, an old rhythm that to this day still tugs on my heart strings making me let out a content smile as I closed my eyes causing all the nerves from my body to leave. While listening to the melody, I felt this exhilarating force pushing me to sing the lyrics that followed this melody, but I went against it. Instead I just began picking up speed as I pictured the lyrics in of my head quickly followed by humming the said lyrics.