Crossroads IC

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Alicia looked around the living room and sneaked out the door. Phew..., She sighed wiping her forehead exaggerating a bit. Happily but wary of the cars, she made her way down the street going down a couple blocks. Alicia squinted looking at a traffic of cars. There it is. Covering her ears and closing her eyes, she ran (well tried to) down the side walk constantly hearing the loud car honking that spooked her day by day. At last turning around the corner she unplugged her ears and released a heavy sigh. Gosh, I hate that...its... scary...

Alicia shook her head and opened a music shop she goes to often. Thats were she takes her drum lessons. Although its not one of those days, she decided to go because she didn't want to be locked up in the house. Plus, she needed new drum sticks. The last one she had it broke after a guy accidentally sat on it. Gr, why would you sit on a table anyway? Oh how I wanted to yell at him. Too bad I can't. Alicia scanned through the drum sticks, unaware of the person near her as she bumped into the person.

Trent was looking through some CDs when he felt someone bump into him. "Now who could?" he thought as he turned around and saw that it was a distracted girl. "Oh, just a random person." he thought. He decided to talk to her. "Hey, I'm Trent, who are you?" Trent knew striking up a conversation with a stranger is well.... strange.. but, she was in the music store he worked in, and anyone that liked music was someone that could be his friend.

Alicia silently gasped, covering her mouth, and shocked that she could bump into someone. This was the perfect time to speak, but too bad she couldn't. Alicia continued making strange hand movements while constantly moving her mouth. Then he said his name and asked who she was. Suddenly she bit her lip, and took out a notebook and a strong scented black sharpie. Not noticing the squeaky sound each time she wrote, she finished and held it up. "I'm so sorry, its my fault, please don't kill me! Uhm..." After holding it up for a couple of seconds she flipped to another page and wrote, "Uhm, nice to meet you Trent, I... Uhm, I am Alicia."

Trent was confused by the girl frantically waving her hands around. "Is there something wrong?" He noticed that she took out a notebook and a marker. Flinching everytime the marker made a squeak. When she held up the notebook, he read what it said. Trying not to laugh, "It's no big deal, I've been through much worse than just simply bumped." "And, why would I actually even attempt to hurt you? It was a mistake." As she flipped it over and wrote more, he wondered why she wouldn't talk, "What's wrong with her? Is there something wrong with her vocal cords?" He read that her name was Alicia. "Ah, so you're Alicia, you've been here often from what I here. Taking drum lessons?"

Alicia frowned. I don't think he gets it. Well, that happened to everyone I met She though sighing. Tapping started occurring, it meant that Alicia was nervous, a bad habit of hers. Tap-Tap-Tap-Tap, It was annoying to Alicia too, but she couldn't help it. Tap-Tap-Tap. She sighed in relief that he wasn't going to kill her, and she could see that he was confused about something. Going back to her notebook she added, "Thank you so much Trent..". Alicia had a sudden urge to bit her fingers but kept them down. She then nodded and flipped to another page, concentrating on her writing then held it up for Trent to see. "Oh? You heard of me? Ah, well... thats... cool? I think.. uhm, Yes! Drums, its very fun. Do you play any instruments?"

Trent noticed Alicia looked nervous, she was tapping her nails. "Heh, common habit of especially female drummers." He read the other words she put on the paper. "Thank you? What did I do to deserve thanks from someone I've known for about 10 minutes?" He read that she wasn't sure if knowing her from before was a good thing or not. "Well, I'm hoping I knew you were someone here, I work here, so, I know many musicians that walk through the doors." She asked him if he played any instruments. "Is it necessary to tell her? I guess so."
"Well Alicia, I play the bass and sometimes, the rythym guitar."

Alicia flipped to a fresh page and wrote, "Ah, never mind.. its nothing ^^" Adding a emocon, wondering if he would know what it meant. Then added, "AH! You work here?!!?!?!, but I never saw you here.. er...." She panicked her tapping going into a faster tempo. Trent then said that he played the bass and a rhythm guitar. Alicia smiled happily writing a couple more things down. "Ah, thats really cool!"

"Ok." He wondered what went on inside her anxious mind. "Anyway, yes, I do work here, you may not see me most of the time because I'm either testing out the instruments and tuning them or giving someone a lesson." He noticed her fingers started tapping faster. "What's she so worked up about?" When he read that she thought what he played was "cool". "Well, thanks, drums are pretty fun too when I have to tune and test them. By the way." Trent picked up a set of drumsticks. "These are the best for any kind of playing, their light and durable so." He handed them to Alicia. "Don't worry about pay, friends get bonuses, I'll get away with it anyway."

Alicia nodded, Well, no wonder. Okay, I thought it was just me... Trent then picked up a pair of drumsticks handing it to her as he explained its good because of its light weight and such. Her eyes gleamed as she took the sticks. Flipping a page, she happily scribbled, "THANK YOU!!!" In big capitalize letters. Alicia smiled happily as she twirled the drumsticks between her fingers testing it out. It was perfect.

Seth Windham was walking down the street, eyeing the lady who was serving some crepes in a stand. Mmmm. he'll have some later.
He kicked a rock, still frusterated at his breakup. He couldn't let things go that easily. He hummed a tune that was meant to be dark, and the notes made him smile. He could imagine the wavelength of the notes as if it was strangling her, yes, her. He was thinking about buying a synthesizer. He already had a small keyboard, but a synthesizer would imitate a variety of sounds, such as guitars, flutes...and more. He walks into a music store he just happens to pass by, trying to figure out how much it'll cost, and how much money that'll set him back. His eyes wander. There aren't many people in the store.

"$799, $599 $899, $1299," Seth muttered to himself, checking the synthesizers. He would be able to connect them to the computer, and listen and analyze the sound he just played. Then he can improve everything with sequencer software.... But that little dream will be a little far away with such an empty wallet....

Chase lied in bed, looking up at the ceiling in his tiny apartment. How much time has passed? He stared at his fingers, they don't twitch in excitement, not anymore. They used to scream loud enough for him to run over to a guitar and just make a sound. He'll be satisfied then. But now, all he does is lay there, staring, not seeing the same passion he once had in music. He stands up, opens the television set, and watched a random music video. He turns it off in disgust. That video had a bunch of fakers, and he didn't like seeing them rise above like stars. He stared at his hands again, missing the touch of music, but he abandoned it just months ago. It all felt like a dream, those days on stage, fans roaring for more of your sound, all fading into a nightmare...and he felt he hasn't awaken since.