Angels and Demons, a Totally True Story by Dan Brown -- @numinal
Well, time to go back to the old Guitar Center again. He didn’t want to go, he really didn’t want to go, but the fact was, he needed a new pair of headphones, and he needed them like yesterday.
His old ones broke in half, like they came straight outta of a Happy Meal, right in the middle of a set. One of the tech’s back stage was nice enough to let him borrow a pair for the rest of the night, but he knew that shit wasn’t gonna fly for very long. A DJ without a good pair of headphones was about as good as a pianist with all their fingers snapped off.
He knew he could ask Ibuki or Flammelle for a pair and they’d gladly hand one over, but that wouldn't do. A DJ’s headphones were something special -- it couldn't just be any shitty pair, it had to be his shitty pair.
Look at him, trying to psyche himself up into going to one of his favorite places in the world. What was this, opposite day? When did this happen, man? Where did it all go wrong?
Well, you see, there was this girl...
This girl, this girl right here, she had him going crazy. Hair like Goldilocks, skin like a caramel macchiato, styling wherever she goes, she was something special. He couldn't even think when she was around. Every time he saw her, it was like butterflies in his stomach, and when she looked at him? Phew, man, there was no describing it.
‘Cept, you know, maybe like a cornered animal staring down the barrel of .45.
That came pretty close.
Ever since she showed up, going there felt like walking into the lion’s den. Sometimes, he swore, he could feel her eyes boring down on his neck -- like she was deciding whether she was feeling for a plate of or a rack of ribs a la demone.
He could feel them even now, no matter how much he tried to to pretend it was no big thing, strolling past her like she was just another She was right behind him now, browsing the acoustic guitars, and he felt caged, with the lioness staring him down out of the corner of her eye -- and she was hungry.
It weirded him out, he wouldn’t lie, put him right on pins and needles... but he also wouldn’t lie that it made him very, very, very curious. What was it about this chick? Why did she make him feel like an acme riddled middle schooler at his first prom, sweaty palms and all? It wasn’t natural, that was for sure. She never did anything to him, ‘cept maybe standin’ around wherever he was standin’ around, and that wasn’t enough to spook him.
And with the wings, it made him wonder...
Call him crazy, but he just had to know.
His fate set in stone, he took a deep breath, plucked a good looking pair of ‘phones off -- bright cherry red, just the way he liked ‘em-- draped them around his neck, and made his way toward her. Each step closer made his stomach take another drop until it was damn near his feet, quivering like a pile of Jell-o, but he kept his cool. He even managed to keep his easy going smile as he strode up behind her, when he felt like doubling over and coughing up a lung.
Now time to see if he could speak without coughing up a lung. He peered over her shoulder-- not exactly hard to do-- to see just what she was
“A Gibson, eh? I see y’like th’classics.”
Still had both his lungs. So far, so good. Hopefully she wouldn’t turn around and smite him on the spot -- not in the middle of a Guitar Center, at least. Gotta have some fair play, you know?
His brother would kill him for pulling a stunt like this (not like that ever stopped him) but he just wouldn’t understand -- curiosity killed the cat, and all that, sure, but he was curious enough to be the big Cheshire himself.
