Panic Switch

Breathe deeply. Become the rhythm. Find your target, steady your aim. Stay focused, stay with the beat. Ignore all distractions, you are nothing but an extension of your tool, for a greater power. The skies are blue, but you're too locked in to care. You notice everything around you, but you don't knowledge anything except what matters.

The woman walking in front of you glances towards you, limp cigarette dangling from her lips, veiling her grey eyes with white smoke for a moment, until she tosses her head and returns to her course, and her sickly green hair falls back unevenly over her face.
This is the only cue you need

You close your eyes, and strum downwards, playing the chord the exact same way you practiced in seclusion, dropping the e-string just so to give it a little extra hum. She stops without turning around. Panicking, you hastily play the second note- too soon, you curse yourself. 'She'll notice if you screw up, don't fucking screw up!' You look down at the vibrating strings, and your fingertips that are not moving without thinking, the way that they should. You look up again, and there she is. Black combat boots inches from your Cons that you neurotically keep clean.

"Cute" She says, her expressionless tone drawing you in to her. You want to ask her about the violent looking letters on her black shirt, but you refrain. You miss the next chord all together as she looks at you, sitting on the grass, legs crossed. "I knew a guy who played that song... said he wrote it. Never believed him. Glad I didn't, though."

"Oh... that's too bad", you mumble, uncertain what to say as she sits down a few feet from you, leaning back. You look away, afraid to make eye contact with her.

"Eh... life happens", she says as she flicks her cigarette to the side, and leans farther back on both hands. Her nails are blue. For a second time, you chose not to ask anything.

"Well, what about this?" You say, trying to change the subject away from heartache. You begin playing without thinking. 'What are you doing?!? This is NOT part of the plan!' You ignore the thoughts, and look down at her boots. From the look of them, her feet are bigger than yours. "This is one I wrote earlier this spring during a lazy afternoon".

She rolls her eyes, and for the first time, you see her smile. It looks out of place for her usual scowl, but it's nice on her.