riptide ≫ shawn mendes

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"DONNTTT STOOOPPP! DOINNNGGG WHAT YOU'RE DOIIINNNNGG!"

The alarm clock on my phone was set to the song Don't Stop by 5 Seconds of Summer, which also happens to be my ringtone. It was loud, so I quickly reached over to my nightstand to turn it off. God, it was loud.

Somehow, I managed to check the digital clock beside me. 6:15 AM. The usual time I have to wake up for work.

Rolling out of bed, I put on a pair of jean shorts with t-shirt I have to wear with the Darrell's Music Shop logo on it. I'm going to be honest here: the shirt is ugly. It's red and the logo is green (CHRISTMAS COLORS? How about no!) with some kind of thumbs up next to it (talk about tacky). I looked in the mirror, rolling my eyes at it.

The next step to my morning routine would be hair and makeup. So, I walked into the bathroom that (unfortunately) Gabe and I have to share. I comb out my long, wavy, strawberry blond hair and put it in its usual, messy side braid. Then, I add a little bit of foundation to my face, some mascara here and there, and boom. I'm done.

This morning in particular I noticed the kitchen downstairs was weirdly clean. Most mornings, I come downstairs to a huge pigsty and now it's so... spick and span. Linda must've cleaned it before we all went to bed is my first thought.

I grabbed a frozen waffle out of the freezer and tossed it into the microwave. Once it finished, I ate it plain, no syrup, no nothing. It's quicker to eat it like this, in my opinion.

Once I finished my boring waffle, I quickly put on my white Converse and grabbed my long-strapped purse. It was long and brown, and matched nearly every one of my outfits. I always keep my phone in their, and my wallet. Plus, it's easy to have over my shoulder when I ride my bike to work or any other place.

My bike was in the same spot where I put it ever since the...incident took place yesterday. I shook my head in disappointment just looking at this dumb bike.

"I hate you," I said to the bike.

Oh my God.

I'm talking to a bike.

Yep, I'm losing it.

Again, I'm shaking my head. Not just at the bike, but at myself. I'm so pathetic, it hurts to even think about it.

I grabbed my bike and stood it upright so I could hop on it. Once I did this, I rode my bike out of the garage and closed the garage door behind me. Petaling back and forth, the bike ride to Darrell's went fast. It was a ten minute bike ride, but it was nice because there were barely any roads to cross. The thought of having to ride a bike to work made me angry, yet it was nice enjoying this summer weather. The sun was out, the air was warm, the wind was blowing. I liked it.

By then, I finally made it to the music store. I placed my bike by the bike rack to the left of the shop, and was surprised to see the door was unlocked. Usually I'm the one to unlock it and open the store up.

Once I entered, Chris, a guy who works with me, was fixing a guitar. Once he heard the door open, he looked up immediately, then looked back down at the guitar.

Chris McKinley's a cool guy. He's nineteen, in a totally cool rock band (from what I heard), and is super hot. Not that I have any interest in him whatsoever, especially the fact that he's older than me. But in his band, he's a drummer, and he really can play. I've heard him play before when it was just us to in the store and he thought he was alone, but really I was in the supply room. He still doesn't know to this day.

Chris doesn't work in the mornings. He shares a shift with Gabe, making them tight friends. This is another reason as to why I'm surprised by his appearance.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" I asked him as I took off my purse.

"Kel asked me to fix this guitar last night but I forgot, so I decided to come in early." He didn't look up at all as he spoke. I nodded. Kel Frayling is our manager and is super young, she decided not to go to college and took on this job.

The only job that I do is work the cash register, maybe sort through some band albums, hang up music compositions, display new shipments, yada yada yada.

Next thing I knew the day went by quickly, Chris left the store awhile ago and I've been stuck here for nearly four hours. I have one hour left. It will probably be the longest hour of my life.

It's not like I don't like my job because honestly, I really do. I like music and am super into it, there's this band called 5 Seconds of Summer that I'm really obsessed with. But music to me is an art, there's so many things that I love about it. Such as the sound an instrument makes when it's played or the beat of a song. It's magic. I can't help but be around it constantly, so why not have a job at a music store.

My thoughts continued to soar as I stood behind the cash register. The sound of the front door making a dinging noise, like it usually does when opened, startled me a bit. My head looked towards the door to see a tall guy-- brunette?--entering the store. He looked like a teenager, maybe my age. He looked straight ahead, and then at me.

"Do you know where the guitar picks are?" he asked me. His voice sounded different, but it was attractive at the same time. It surprised me that he was talking to me at first.

"Uh, uh, yeah. They're, um, right here." I pointed to the wall behind me, an array of guitar picks. Oh my God, what is wrong with me? Why can't I talk?

He began to walk over to the counter until at last he stood before me, the cash register in between us. Now I could see him better now. He had smoky brunette hair, hazel/brown eyes, and his right eye was slightly lazy.

"Hmm...there's so many..." His eyes squinted a bit, looking at the guitar picks in back of me. I turned around towards the wall of guitar picks. "Which one's your favorite?" he asked.

My lips pursed. "I don't really have one."

"You're American?"

"How'd you know?"

"The way you talk. And the 'I Heart NY' bracelet." I looked down at my left wrist, it was a gold charm bracelet my grandma gave to me before she died when I was seven. She got it when she visited the city awhile back and brought it back to me as a birthday present.

I nervously smiled. "Oh. That."

He laughed a bit. "So guitar picks..." his eyes were focused on the wall behind me. "There's too many. How can I choose between all of them?"

"Here." I turned behind me and grabbed a bin full of guitar picks and put them on the counter in front of me. "These are our better guitar picks that aren't on display. They cost a little more but they're worth it."

"Okay." He began to dig through the guitar picks until he picked out five of them, all the same color. "I'll take these."

I nodded and began to check out. As I scanned the guitar picks, the guy read my nametag.

"So you're name..."

"It's Belle," I said before he could.

"Belle? As in the Disney princess?"

"Belle, as in short for Isabelle."

"Huh. I like that name. Well, blondie, I'll see you later," he said, as he grabbed the bag I handed him...and then he gave me a wink. Is he possibly hitting on me?

I found myself letting out a laugh. "You didn't just call me blondie, did you now?"

He shrugged his shoulders as he exited the store, flashing a smile. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't."