The Rockstar

"Let's get serious for a moment." The sales kid said. "You don't need what'd you call it, a launch control. What you do need is this fresh new guitar that's smoking hot." The kid stroked the guitar as if it was the greatest piece in the world. Maybe to him, but to Sean Antle it was a piece of crap.

 He'd made a mistake coming to this so-called instrument shop despite his love for small towns. He'd been desperate for a launch control to create and mix his music. But now this crazy kid was trying to steer him in another direction just to make a sale. It was time he put this youngster in his place.

"Look kid, the guitar you're so carefully holding isn't worth the 2 grand price tag. It doesn't matter if you're starting a new band, or you've been in the music industry for years." Sean nodded at the guitar. "It's a pure piece of crap." 

 The kid took a step back, a stunned slowly crept across his face. "How would you know? Nothing good comes from this little town. You're another wannabe musician like all the rest." Sean stared at the kid who had just insulted his passion, his life. Then he chuckled to himself. The kid had no idea. No idea at all.

"Since you don't seem to have what I'm looking for and you're only looking for a sale, I think I'll take my business elsewhere." He stepped around the sales kid with a smirk then nodded at his bodyguard who had been quietly sifting through a stack of CD's, never letting the rockstar out of his sight.

The kid's jaw dropped as the two made their way out the front entrance of the store and a limo pulled up. He placed the guitar shakily back on the display wall, then headed for the sales counter. Above him the wide screen tv displayed  the latest music video. The kid stared in awe. The words Sean Antle scrolled across the screen, the rockstar playing, the musician he'd just called a wannabe had just left his store.