The Guitarist

February 24, 2012
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Jane sat on the park bench, legs crossed. She had the newest issue of “Seventeen” open on her lap, but it did not interest her. Here eyes were glued on the guitarist sitting on the fountain. He fluidly moved his fingers up and down the neck of the guitar, and his sweet voice to accompany the music. Jane couldn’t help but smile at him, and he smiled back, giving her a wink.

Blushing, she turned her head away. She looked down at her magazine, but she could not keep her mind off of that boy. Think of Justin Bieber, Jane. He started out the same way and who is he now? Jane absolutely hated Justin Bieber, but that didn’t stop her. She looked up again and saw the guitarist staring at her, singing and playing to her individually.

The next day, Jane returned to the same spot in the park. She sat on the same bench and waited. She began reading “Seventeen” when she noticed someone walking by. She saw a black guitar case and she smiled. He was back again. He gently set down his guitar case and opened it up. He pulled out an acoustic guitar and pick, and began strumming. He plucked each string individually, twisting the knobs at the end to tune it. It was no song, but Jane still thought it was beautiful.

Then the real music began. He started strumming a few chords then started singing. They were lyrics Jane didn’t recognize. Jane googled a line on her phone to see if anything came up, and she opened the first link. “James Gates Wins Talent Show With Original Song.” The article talked about the entire talent show, but the largest part was about the winner; James Gates. It discussed his life as a musician and his goals for the future. The lyrics to the winning were on the bottom of the article, and they matched the ones I was hearing. Knowing that the words came directly from him made the song even better. Plus, now Jane knew the guitarist’s name.

Jane went to the park everyday for weeks. She enjoyed listening to the music, especially James’ original songs. The lyrics were so honest and deep, making them relatable to anyone. Each song was poetry with real feeling. He wasn’t just repeating “Baby” a million times. She eventually learned the songs and was humming along. Even though she had never talked to him, she felt like she knew him.

Jane smiled as she watched James sing. She watched the passion in his eyes and the emotion in his voice. She still could not take her eyes off of him. The song ended and James looked up. He saw Jane sitting there, staring at him, and winked at her. Jane twisted her leg around the leg of the bench and turned her head away.

Jane didn’t want to go back. He knows that I have been watching him everyday! I’ll seem like a stalked if I go back! she thought to herself. But Jane had to listen the beautiful music.

The next day, Jane hid behind her magazine, not wanting him to notice her. She just listened to the music, occasionally peeking out from behind her cover. Jane sat there, humming along to the music for nearly an hour when the music stopped. She pulled down her magazine and there, right in front of her, was James.

“Um, hi,” Jane nervously said.

“Hey I’m James,” he said, holding out is hand.

“I know,” Jane said. “I mean I heard someone call you that, James. Well I wasn’t sure if it was James or John or something like that. I’m Jane.” She blushed and looked away.

James smiled. “I’ve noticed you sitting here for a while now...”

Oh no, Jane thought.

“And I was wondering if you wanted to go to dinner tonight.”

“Yes!” Jane shouted. “I mean, sure.”

“So I’ll meet you here at 8?” he said smoothly.

“Yeah. 8 o’clock. I’ll see you then, James.”

“See you tonight, Jane.” They both smiled, waving to each other as they walked away.





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