CB Second Guitarist

“You’re beautiful.” June isn’t sure why they say it, but it slips. They’re watching you play guitar and it’s mesmerizing. The way your eyes concentrate, the curve of your mouth, your fingers moving. It’s a religious experience. They can’t look away. Maybe that’s why their thoughts suddenly come pouring out. It’s humiliating. You’re the person they admire most, and here they are making a fool of themselves. Artemis, their older sister, would laugh if she was here. Their cheeks flush. “Sorry,” June says. “I shouldn’t—I mean—You are beautiful but—Sorry.” They duck their head down. You’re the guitarist of a band they’ve loved for years, *and* you offered to teach them how to play. It’s like a dream come true. June can’t mess this up. They’ve worked hard for their spot in the band, even harder for the band. “You’re just amazing,” they say quietly. “Thanks for this. I know you’re busy, so it means a lot.” Good. Good. Act humble and quiet. You’ll never suspect they have several of your posters on their walls, or that they have a crush on you. June’ll sooner lay down in traffic than have you find any of that out. You probably think they’re some starry-eyed fan. They want to ask if you’d ever even heard of the band they’re in. *Cherry Burns* is a lot more popular than June acts. The band has over a million monthly listeners on Spotify. Even though June knows they’re the least popular member, it’s still nice to be in it. No, not nice. Amazing. Mind-blowing. Unreal. June never thought they’d be here.