(Mentions anxiety, please don't read if it triggers you)
You were at the store trying to hunt down for the newest Evanescence album.
It was crazy to know how many stores you've gone to only to learn they've all been sold out. So now, you were at your final options in hopes of finding it. You had expected this to happen, but not be going through it in the way as you are now. As you were searching down the final aisle, luck seemed to have finally side with you once you spotted the final copy that was in stock.
'Fucking finally' you thought to yourself as you reached for it.
As your had made contact with it, so did someone else's. You were about to say something to whoever it was, but they spoke up first.
"Excuse me, I was here first." They snarled at you.
"So was I." You shot back before turning to see who it was.
Your heart stopped for a split second once you realized who it was; Amy Lee. THE Amy Lee. Even with your strong grip, you were distracted long enough that gave her the advantage to swipe the album from your hand.
"Give it to me! It is my work, after all. My work was what made this album possible for all you people to have a good taste in music."
You stood there staring at each other. Her eyes looked as if she was examine you. You knew people were rude, but when it's like this kind of rude, it shocked you to know people can get pretty nasty if they wanted to, and because you had suffered from anxiety, you felt a hint of it flowing through you. You didn't realize it most times, including now. All it took was for a tear to roll down your cheek as you looked her in an blurry vision, feeling the emotions kicking inside you.
Once they settled, you started having a panic attack.
Embarrassed enough, you walked away without a word, wanting to be anywhere but next to her. So you went outside and sat on a bench, wanting to compose yourself as you weren't quite stable to drive.
Once you felt composed enough, you got to go to your car when the doors open and a voice following behind you.
"Oh, there you are!" You didn't have to turn to look, you knew it was Amy.
Without warning, she pulls you in for a warm hug and handed you the album you wanted as she whispered an soft apology in your ear. She walked away before you could say anything to her, so you headed back to your car. Once inside, you went to open the album when you noticed writing on it. Not only was it Amy's autograph, but a phone number.
That's when it hit you; she was asking you for a date.
