Guitar Lessons With The Player

Guitar Lessons chapt. 1

So, this is my new story! I hope you (yes you) enjoy it. There's a few weird mistakes, or sentences that do not flow that may annoy you. But trust me when u say that it annoys me more than it'd annoy you. So if you could hand me a gun, I'd gladly shoot that pieces (:

And uh, btw, the main character isn't a stripper, haha.

*~*

"Alright, alright, alright! For all you dirty girls out there, I want you up and swinging your body to the beat," the automated voice said out through the speakers.

A remix of Christina Aguileira's Dirrty thrummed through the speakers, causing the crowd to roar in excitement. They screamed and more patrons joined the dance floor, throwing their arms over their head and swinging their body to the beat.

As much as I loved music, and could live on the rhythmic words for eternity, the strobe lights were beginning to blind my eyes. They were tearing up from the clouds of mist and the brightly colored flashing lights. I slipped off the headphones, and hung them on them around the small metal pole next to the laptop.

I hummed the song while slipping out from the booth. Tobias, a large beefy security man, slapped my across the back, almost sending me flying.

Despite the hard exterior he tried to put up twenty-four seven, he was generally a nice guy. He thought of me as his daughter, always looking after me and protecting me against any drunk men trying to take advantage of me.

Though, he and I both knew I could stick it to the drunk man twice as hard.

"Nice set out there, Alex. You have a drink or two and get home before it gets too late." His deep voice sounded just over the music.

I let out a laugh and tried to slap his shoulder twice as hard. "You too, Tobias. We wouldn't want anyone to have their way with you."

I sent a joking wink, before setting out onto the dance floor. My clothing wasn't exactly suitable to dance, but I was never one to care. To me, I could be standing in my bedroom, in just my underwear, head banging, and care less.

Believe me, I speak from experience.

I slip off the long black waistcoat and hand it to Adam, the charming bartender behind the counter. He smirked at me, but didn't say anything as he pulled the jacket in a cupboard door underneath the counter.

As I looked around, I felt the music invade my body. It was like my high, wanting me to do dance and move my body, to feel my body bump and move to the feel of the music.

I pinched the shirt I wore, uncaringly. The baggy gray shirt was unflattering and plain, as well as the ripped skinny jeans, seeming to hug my untoned legs. It wasn't exactly a suitable outfit to dance in, but I was in the mood to let my body run free.

I didn't make the impression that I wanted attention but it seemed the eyes were staring at me.

I didn't blame them. This was one hell of an exclusive club, not exactly letting anyone of the street inside. I looked like some homeless person that'd wait around the corner, reading to shove their tin can in your face.

Instead of letting their eyes get to me, I shrugged it off and swung my body to the beat. I didn't attempt to look sexy like all the other women in the room and instead danced however I wanted too. My body rolled and twisted, flowing with the sounds of music. My pulse skittered with the feel of the energy around me, feeding me excitement and a glimpse of happiness. I felt people shift around me, leaving me room to move around. I took the opportunity and threw my arms to the side, bending them and moving them in beat of my body.