Typically Average Day by: Sara Eie DeSter

The same music floats through the tunnels of the subway.  Everyday men and women hurried through the tunnels to their destinations.  But that a new tune drifted through the air of the subway.  It was the tune of an old acoustic guitar being strummed by a sixteen year old teen.  The fluorescent lights of the subway highlighted his bright ginger hair acting as a beacon to guide the wearied travelers to his melodious songs of his life.  His fingers glide over the strings, strumming and plucking them as he hummed along with the tune.  Every now and then, the men and women that passed would drop coins or notes in his guitar case that laid open next to him.  Others would simply just look at him.  Some looked at him with disgust because of the state of his clothes, faded blue jeans, a green shirt and a pair of beat up sneakers.  And others look to him with sorrow, as he was alone and making money in a filthy subway.  But the ginger had no care in the world about what they thought about him, all he cared about was music and what made himself happy.  The lonely teen and his guitar would go to public places and he would play his guitar and sing, and make money.  But the one place he would visit the most was Aberdale Records.  They are the biggest record company in all of Britain.  And his dream is to be spotted by one of their talent scouts and get a record deal.  Music is his life, always was and always will be.  That’s why he left home and dropped out of school.  He fully engulfed himself into the world of music and was swept away form the reality of his life.  As he finished his last song, he watched as £5 fluttered into the case followed by a small applause that echoed through the subway.  As he gave his thanks for his voluntary pay, he collected the money and stuffed it into his pockets and began to pack his guitar into its case.  He locks the silver latches on the side of the case and picks it up by the handle.  He starts to make his way leisurely through the subway.  He walks until he reaches the Waterloo Station exit.  As soon as he reaches the bottom of the stairs he received a text form his friend Mark. 

Party 2nite @ my place.  Be there! - Mark.

 He routinely climbs the stairs as he replies to the message. 

Ok.  Be there – B.R. 

As he reached the top of the stairs, the cool night air rushed passed his face, ruffling his already messy hair.  He stood at the top stairs for a moment, took a deep breath, and continued onward to Whittlesey Street.  As he made his way across the street to the corner of Whittlesey and Cornwall Road, he could hear the music pour out of the windows of the house.  He continued to walk down the street until he reached a white fence.  As he looks up, his eyes and ears are full with music and people as they both flood from every direction.  He stood there second guessing his choice of going to the party.  He was about to leave when his friend, Mark, came up to him.  Anyone could tell by the state of his appearance he was already drunk.  “Hey, Ben you made it!” Mark slurs.  Mark didn’t even wait for a reply and started drag Ben into the house and headed for the living room.  The living room was same and the walls were painted a light ivy green.  It was furnished with a dark emerald green cushioned couch facing a small television that sat on the opposite side of the room.  And a rocking chair that was oddly place next to the couch as though it was thrown there.  This once iconic family room was now splattered with groups of drunk and unruly teens.  Ben looks to his left and then to his right to see that his friend has already ditched him.  Great.  He looked around for somewhere to sit and his eyes fell on an empty space on the couch.  He began to make his struggle through the hordes of drunken people like an explorer cutting his way through tall grass.  As he got to the spot on the couch he plopped himself down and immediately began to regret his decision to come.  This is going to be a long night.  He said in his mind as more people filed through the door.  As he sat there he watched as the people in the room began to change constantly like the colors in a collide-o-scope.  As he looked to his left there was a couple sitting next to him in a romantic embrace.  You would think that they would want more privacy.  Disgusted by his choice to look left, he reluctantly looked to his right.  On his right there were teens smoking and passing around a bottle of whiskey around each taking swig from it.  Some Party.  Ben stood from his seat on the couch and started making his way through the crowd to the door.  As he left the house he to a breath of fresh air and started in the opposite direction from Waterloo Station.  As he walked further away from the party the music began to fade until there was nothing but the sound of cars passing.  Ben put his hands in his pockets, looked at the ground, and thought about his future.  As his mind battled through those thoughts, He had ran into to something and fell to the ground.  As he looked up, his eye met with a pair of beautiful hazel. They belonged to a girl who was now currently picking up the papers scattered across the pavement. “Are you alright?”  Ben stood up with his eyes and watched the girl in awe.  She had to be his age and her beauty was as if it was perfected by angels.  “Hello???”  He snapped out of his day dream with his cheeks turning bright red with embarrassment.  “Yeah… I-I’m fine”.  The brunette let out a chuckle then answered, “Well if you say so… I’m Ava.”  She stuck out her hand for him to shake.  When Ben took her hand he felt something between their hands.  “I’m Ben.”  She took back her hand.  “Nice to meet you Ben.”  As she began her journey again, she took one last look behind her at the boy then turned back.  When she was a good block away he looked down at his hand to find a piece of paper.  He opened the paper and smiled.

Ava XXX

   (059-0079)

He looked over to where she had walked off to and smiled to himself.

                             The End.