When I See You Again

Lindsey's Guitar

A.N.- Hey guys, sorry I've been MIA for a while & just lacked motivation. I know I have so many open stories I just felt like I hit road blocks in all of them :/ I had this crazy idea though, it is definitely a little left field for me... But I thought it would be super interesting story line so lemme know what you think!

1975
"Alright, class is about over I just wanted to remind everyone about the donation event going on over the weekend. The sign up sheet is up on my faculty door if you're interested. They're looking for males ages 18-25. If you sign up you need to complete the screening form prior to donating and there will be monetary compensation for your time."
Mick playfully hit Lindsey's arm raising his eyebrow.
"So, you gonna do it?" Mick whispered.
Lindsey looked at him crossing his arms and rolling his eyes. His eyes focused back on the professor standing at the front of the auditorium.
"Okay, class is dismissed have a good weekend."
Lindsey reached down for his book bag before slinging it over his shoulder.
"Linds, hey wait up!" Mick shuffled out of the auditorium behind Lindsey.
"What man?" Lindsey asked as Mick ran up beside him.
"You coming to the party tonight?"
"Ah man I'm not sure, I uh- was planning on working on my philosophy thesis."
Mick gave Lindsey a friendly but aggressive slap on the back.
"Whatever man." Mick said with a smirk.
Lindsey had never really been into the party scene. He much rather preferred a quiet night in, just him and his guitar, maybe some recording equipment. Lindsey's parents had pressured him into attending college though he was convinced that somehow, someday he would make it big in the music industry. He was completely and utterly dedicated to music from the first moment he first picked up a guitar. Later that night Lindsey sat on his dorm room bed noodling around on his guitar. He was interrupted by a knock on the door. Lindsey sighed, sat his guitar down on his bed and made his way over to the door opening it slowly.
"Hey Buck."
It was John, he practically let himself in pushing past Lindsey, making his way to the armchair in the corner of the room.
"I-uh..." Lindsey shut the door and turned around, running his fingers through his long brown curly locks.
"Oh come on Lindsey you could at least act a little happy to see me!" John joked kicking his legs up on the coffee table.
Lindsey scratched his head and smiled. As much as he liked John he hated being interrupted, especially when he was enthralled in his music.
"Actually the reason I came by is because I have a favor to ask you... So Mick and I got a gig with the band next weekend but our guitarist is dropping out of school and moving back home to Oregon."
Lindsey barely allowed John to finish.
"Oh John, come on, you know how I feel about playing stupid gigs for fucking frat formals." He rolled his eyes picking up his guitar before plopping down on his bed letting his fingers aimlessly run up and down the fretboard.
"No look Linds this is big, like really fucking big. We got a gig at The Saloon, battle of the bands."
Lindsey's eyes widened, he sat back down his guitar.
"Battle of the bands?! How in the hell did you guys land a gig at the Saloon?"
"A friend of a friend, I don't know, Mick knew somebody." John said rolling his eyes. "The winner gets paid $1,500 and a potential record deal."
"Holy fuck. So... You need a guitarist?" Lindsey smirked.
"Yes Buckingham, we need a guitarist. What do you want me to do, fucking beg you?"
Lindsey laughed. "Okay fine, you've got a deal." He stretched out his hand initiating a handshake. John grasped Lindsey's hand giving him a firm handshake.
"Oh thank god." Mick breathed a sigh of relief. "I already told Mick you would do it. Rehearsals start tomorrow at 4 pm, Mick's place."
Lindsey let out a huff and rolled his eyes sarcastically.

————

After John had left, Lindsey resumed noodling around on his guitar. His mind racing a million miles a minute. Okay, set list... What the hell are we going to play?? He scanned the his messy dorm room looking for a pen and paper. He looked down and paused for a moment, running his hands over his guitar. The poor thing had been absolutely beat to hell. Countless gigs, recording sessions, spilled beers, dings, scratches. That guitar had been Lindsey's right hand man for over 10 years and it had the wear to show for it. He sat the guitar down again and rested his chin on in his palm. Lindsey knew that a lot of recording artists and producers hung out at The Saloon, and the battle of the bands was a big fucking deal. He knew he had to make a good impression and he knew his old guitar wasn't going to do the trick. There was just one problem, he was a broke ass college kid, he couldn't afford another guitar.