This is my take on how Paula and 2-D met. Review? Me would like opinions.
"Core, stop that racket, would ya', Paul?"
"What racket? I'm trying to play my guitar!"
"I'VE GOT A HANGOVER, GET THE F*CK OUT THEN!"
"OW! WHAT THE FU-"
"Okay, Jesus Christ!"
Paula slammed the flat's door behind her. She'd been staying with her older sister in Colchester, Essex for a couple years now, though they both had pretty opposite personalities.
Paula liked guitar, the mysterious and listening to R.E.M.
Her sister, Skylar, liked partying, sex and booze.
Paula also liked these.
There were a lot of parties between the two.
"Go play it for a bit of quick doe then, I s'pose- OW! Ah,"
While tuning her guitar, one of the strings had broken and sliced the brunette's right index finger in a neat, crimson line. She licked up the small but painful wound, quite enjoying the irony taste of her own blood ((A/N: OH C'MON WE ALL LOVE THE TASTE OF OUR OWN BLOOD)), then soon noticed that the rest of the strings on her guitar were a bit banged up, too. She hadn't really been keeping track on changing them, at all.
Setting her guitar up against the metal bench outside of their block of flats, Paula dug her left uninjured hand into her pocket, fingering its contents. A fiver and 3 pound coins, that would surely be enough for a few. The guitarist carefully placed her instrument back into its case, avoiding her stinging cut which had still been unbandaged and open to the crisp Spring air. Her dark brown hair had grown incredibly long, reaching just below her lower breast line - it was getting irritating how quickly her hair grew, she'd need it cut again soon.
The ding of Uncle Norm's Organ Emporium door pierced the guitarist's ears. There were an awful lot of keyboards and what looked like a mouth piece keyboard... m-... melodica? But surely they sold acoustic strings, as well.
Her eye shadow smeared lids blinked when she noticed the man at the counter.
His light blue hair stood out most of all, of course! Took the words right out of her mouth. The azure brightness was mesmorising. Then there was his sickly pale skin... his skinny, twig-like body and limbs... his incredibly handsome face. And - HIS EYES. Or rather, his lack of.
Black dents of nothing.
Where was he even staring? You couldn't tell. His face was blank; lost - people would think him retarded, but the guitarist thought him quite beautiful. He looked dreamy and melancholic, though it was a tad distressing to watch. She poked his skeletore shoulder, sending him back a couple inches which shot a stab of guilt through her when she realised instantly that he probably wasn't the strongest man she'd came across. He was very good looking, however, you could easily tell he was naturally a stunner.
The jolt of Paula's long nail sent the blue-haired man into a bit of a scare. He twitched then shook his head, turning it into the girl's direction.
"Hello there," she smiled, a set of buck teeth poking out. He couldn't talk, his were no better, at least she had some.
Despite her teeth and the awful amount of eye make up she wore, the spaced-out shop keep' thought her a very attractive girl, honestly. She had one of those cute faces - not where they had a baby face, but looked so pretty and elegant it was adorable.
"You all right, hun?" she asked, her girlie voice sending shivers down his spine.
The blunette noticed he'd not replied to the girl, and instead had just been staring at her. He blinked his swollen lids once, fighting off a blush, then shyly replied.
"...'Ello. Can I help you?"
*Face palm* .. Twat. He thought to himself.
"Ooh," Paula fiddled below the desk, smiling to herself. "My guitar needs its string replaced. I've never done this before," she laughed. "Think you could help out a bit?"
"Er, yeah yeah!" He pulled out a few stacks of paperwork. "We've got 'is new fing you can do now. Scribble down yer name, date o' birf and address on this 'ere, so whenever yew need ya strings changing, we'll make sure to 'ave 'em in stock for yew especially, yeah?"
Paula gleamed. "Yeah, that'd be great, thank you! Um... you going to get me a pen then, darlin'?"
The blunette blushed. "Oh - oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot. Wait there!"
He ran off to the room behind , then returned a few minutes later holding a box of new guitar strings in one hand and a pen in the other.
"Heh, 'ere you go, love, sorry about that,"
"It's all right, hun, really." She took the pen from his bony fingers, noticing how bitten his fingernails were. In curly handwriting, she wrote:
8th September, 1981
Underneath, she scribbled her sister's address.
"Er, name's Stu-Pot. 'Ow 'bout you?"
She tapped the piece of paper. "My name's Paula. Paula Cracker."
"Weird name... I like it, though!"
"Your zodiac... is Virgo, yeah?"
"They say all Virgo girls are very pretty," he smiled shyly, filing the papers into a cabinet.
Paula smiled back, warmingly. A mist of pink formed on her face, realising how truly sweet this lad was. "What's your zodiac, then, Stu-Pot?"
He picked up her guitar and placed it onto the desk, walking back 'round behind it to replace the strings. "Errrr... I'm a Gemini, I believe, heh." He kept his black eyes down, unzipping the case and getting to business.
"Gemini... Aren't they meant to be the talkative, two-faced ones? You don't seem like that at all, to me," she put her elbows on the desk, resting her chin on the back of her hands as she watched him thoughtfully.
"Hm," he kept silent for a while, looking rather dreamy. Paula kept watching. When he finally finished replacing her strings and zipping up the guitar case, she stood up straight and elegantly, her long straightened brown hair flowing down her back. He handed her the case, then at the last minute replied, "Maybe I'm a bit different."
They smiled at each other cheekily as she handed the money, her number tucked inside of the folds of the five pound note. Hopefully he'd call later once he realised it was there (if he ever did).
The guitarist thought to herself as she walked home...
I can't actually wait until the strings break again!