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You’re going to do great, Fletcher. Breathe through it, don’t overthink what you’re doing.
Besides, today is just about getting to know the kids.
You’re a world famous, award-winning musician. They’re just kids.
Fletcher
Not sure that’s more comforting or terrifying, but thanks.
Keep your junior associates on hand in case these kids say shit to me that makes zero sense.
Erin
Pull on your big boy panties, Kelley.
Fletcher
Fuck you very much, Decker.
Hours later, well into the work day, he heard the bell above the front door ring. Shockingly it wasn’t the first time the bell rang, but it was the first time Benson called out for him. Fletcher had spent his day doing research on how to teach people to read music and give lessons, none of it seemed to ease his nerves. Benson had handled the first few customers, but clearly it was time for him to face the kids that were eager to learn music from him. Slipping on his glasses, he untied his long dark hair from the bun he’d kept it in all day and then walked to the front where excited chatter greeted him.
Two kids decked in punk rock fashion were talking animatedly to Benson, who was nodding along. Maybe his friends-slash-employee knew what those words were, but Fletcher tensed at the thought of not understanding a damn thing. Blowing out a slow breath, he raised a hand in an awkward wave when the teenagers turned to him, their eyes wide.
“Oh my god. You really are Fletcher Kelley. I was so sure the poster was using your name to get more attention,” the Avril Lavigne look-alike said, before a deep blush spread across her cheeks. “Sorry, that was too much fangirling.”
Benson chuckled and Fletcher shook his head. “You seem kinda young to know who I am, fangirling or not.”
“Well, I was raised on your music.”
“Your folks have good taste,” he said with a chuckle, then turned to the other punk rocker and smiled. “Welcome to Big Waves.”
“We’ve been here before, when Uncle Hank used to run the place. But thanks?”
Okay, we’re not doing a good job with conversing today.
“Right, well…” he trailed off, looking to Benson for help, but his friend shrugged.
The kids looked at each other and burst into laughter. The blonde one turned to him, her blush deepening. “Sorry. Mom says I need to tone back the sassiness. I’m Emery, she/her. This is Nico, they/them.”
“I’m uh…Fletcher, he/him?” He glanced at Benson who gave him a subtle nod. “That’s Benson, also he/him.”
“Nice to officially meet both of you. So,” Emery said, rubbing her hands together like some kind of evil mastermind. “How does this work?”
Fantastic question, kid. Fantastic fucking question.
“How about you two browse through the store and see what instruments get your attention, then we can figure out how to go from there,” Benson suggested and the kids nodded, practically bouncing as they moved through racks of instruments. Fletcher shoved his hands into his pockets and followed a few steps behind, smiling as they stopped at strings, then winds and moved back and forth a few times. Growing up, he’d been drawn to music too and it took him a while before he realized that drums were always going to be his focus. It might take Emery and Nico a while too, but for these lessons, they needed to start somewhere.
When Emery turned to him with a wide grin, he was hit with a memory of a curvy brunette smiling at him the same way. He blinked to clear the thoughts and focused on the kid. “I’ve always been interested in the drums, because I watched a lot of your live shows and think you’re like so badass.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled, adjusting his glasses for something to do. “I should warn you that I taught myself the drums, so my teaching methods might be different from what you’d get elsewhere.”
She shrugged, that familiar smile still lighting up her face. “Given I have zero training outside of using my pillows as drums, I think we’ll be fine.”
“I got my start with pillows too.”
“I know. That’s what my mom told me,” she said and then bounced off to find Nico and Benson. He chuckled and watched her go, his mind filling up with more memories of that night sixteen years ago. It wasn’t meant to be more than one night, not when Mick pulled out her ‘list’ and rattled off all the things she wanted to do in this lifetime. Still, waking up the next morning to an empty bed and a clean hotel room had been disappointing. Fletcher had wanted a few more hours with her, a few more days even. She’d left behind her underwear, a stretchy hair tie and leather bracelets that he held onto for a bit.
When the bell above the door chimed again, he snapped out of his thoughts as Emery raced past him. Nico followed with an amused smile as they said, “Emery’s mom wanted to meet you and make sure you’re not some kind of serial killer or whatever. She’s cool, a little neurotic, but she’s a good mom.”
