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Juke Box Hero	By : TokitheDrummer Category: +M through R > Metalocalypse > Slash - Male/Male Views: 890 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Dethklok/Metalocalypse, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. Just like I do not own or create the song "Welcome to the Jungle" by Guns N Roses.

Chapter List
- 1-Introduction.
- 2-Chanced Meeting.
- 1
- 2
The Next Day...
"Dood, es dis like, da best yew guys ghat?"
"The best someone like you could probably afford." Came a snobbish reply from the man behind the counter who was CLEARLY judging Pickles over his too long of a pointed nose, just by his rough appearance. The wannabe rockstar crossed his arms and shot the blond behind the counter a dangerous green eyed glare, his foot tapping impatiently. Hey, he was a fucking paying customer- didn't he deserve to get treated with respect too? His clothes might have been torn.... and his hair completely in a mess... but the green wad of cash in his hand should have spoken for him! The pissed off redhead was almost ready to pounce on the asshole. After all, the minute he had walked in the cashier had been trying to shoo him out like some kind of infected dog has stepped into the store.
"Bastard." Pickles growled lowly.
"What did you just call me?!" Snapped the male back, clearly what the younger male had said ticking him off enough to have HIM almost ready to pounce. But, Pickles would have gladly accepted the challenge too- it would have been nice to slam such a snob on the floor and get in a few punches before being arrested. "Get the hell out of my store, filthy scumbag!"
"Make me, yuppie!" Snapped the redhead right back, backing up and standing his ground, still giving the cashier a dirty eat-shit look. It was clear that the kid was going nowhere until he finally got what he wanted- which was that nice- well kind of- old six string guitar in the back that he had noticed the moment he walked into the store. Pickles hadn't exactly thought that the process was going to be THIS difficult and yet, here he was picking a fight with the dweeb behind the counter. How could he not? With the cruel judging stare and then the guy acting like he was a complete idiot, who wouldn’t want to pick a fight- or as Pickles liked to call it “defend” themselves against him?
Just as the elder was coming around the counter- probably to drag him by the hair to get the teenager out of the store as Pickles had demanded him do- someone came around the corner and stopped him in his tracks. Pickles followed the gaze of the cashier to see what exactly was stopping him- and suddenly all fight fell from his face. Obviously by the sudden innocent look crossing the yuppie's face- this was the actual owner of the store that had come out after hearing all the ruckus the two of them had been causing. He was a tall, big built, African American man, but the gentle smile on his face showed that he held no malice toward Pickles unlike the other. Apparently HE seemed to understand the general rules of a store; the customer was always right.
"What seems to be the problem?"
"This dickhead won't give me ah guitar!" Pickles quickly growled, beating the blond cashier before he could even THINK about answering. For a moment the owner seemed baffled by the redhead's quick temper and reply, but ever so slowly, he nodded as if he completely understood the whole situation without either one of them having to explain themselves.
"I'm sorry about that, after all, you are a paying customer. For all your troubles, please, choose any guitar you'd like, we have this Jazz-"
"No! Like dood, aye want DAT one!" Pickles pointed toward the behind the desk of where the cashier stood- it was that same old beat up six string and yet, it still looked to be in decent enough shape, he had been eying since the moment he walked in. After all, he could still see 'Gibson' etched on the side, and that WAS brand named. After a few more careful moments of consideration- and looking Pickles up and down with a furrowed brow, finally the owner nodded. As promised he motioned for the cashier to hand the young male his guitar. Though before the elder male could move to actually HAND it to the teenager the moment he went behind the counter to get it, Pickles was on him. He had followed the blond behind the counter and the moment it was least expected he had snatched the guitar quickly out of his hands, but instead of backing off there- he decided to get in a few good blows for causing so many problems. He gave the cashier one nice kick to the knee which brought him down low enough for Pickles to be able to sink his own knee deep into the other males crotch, forcing the male to fall face first into the floor. Just to add insult to injury the redhead leaned down and snickered in his ear.
“Go back ta customer service school, yew dickhead.”
With that he quickly backed up away from the cashier and went running toward the counter, leaping up on it and sliding across it to land on the other side of it with grace, a smirk on his face. He casted a quick glance toward the owner of the store to catch the horrified look on his face before he waved goodbye and shot toward the door, using his short legs to gain a great distance in a quick amount of time. A now playful look in his green eyes before he shot out the door, calling back behind him.
"Thanks fer da guitar~!"
Once he was far enough from the shop to where he was sure if they came looking for him that he wouldn't be found, Pickles finally slowed down, making sure to take his time and get a good look at his surroundings to help him find his way back 'home'. He was in a semi-decent in the part of the small town, maybe a bit more... expensive part. Which wasn't necessarily a good or bad thing, this could mean he would either get ignored since all yuppies were egoistical bastards or because he was the only beat-up looking kid there, he just might get sympathy and at this point he needed the money because in a few days he would be out from the cost of the hotel, so he would allow the sympathy- for now.
Pickles went to grab a random soggy box on the ground that happen to run across his vision; it was small enough to where if people wanted they could put tips in. It was the perfect size- but the moment his hand wrapped around it, the box tore right in half. "Ah, what?! Yew've gatta be kiddin' me, dat was da only one in site too..." The poor teenager groaned throwing what remained of it away, wiping his wet hands on his shirt to try and dry them off. Green eyes once again scoped out the area in search of something to use to put tips in- and grinned when his eyes fell upon something in the middle of the street. A hat, no, better yet, a top hat! It was nice, black with a green band around the middle of it- and it didn't even look THAT wet if wet at all. Eagerly the redhead darted into the street and grabbed the hat with hsi free hand- but right as he was picking it up a car was hurdling toward his direction. By the time the driver had honked his horn he was a bit too close for the kid to dodge- and petrified- it didn't help that Pickles stood there like a deer in front of head lights. Car wheels squealed against the wet ground- the male shut his eyes bracing himself for the impact-
Another loud honk rang in his ears, even louder than before.
He blinked open his eyes startled- and right in front of him was the hood of a car, only mere inches from his body. Pickles took a deep breath, clasping his chest trying to calm his frantic heart. Yet he didn't have too much time to recover- for a very nice professional looking man began hollering insults at him- threatening that if he didn't move out of the front of his car that he would plow him down and that he shouldn't play in the middle of the streets.
"What, do you have a death wish?!"
"Learn ta drive an' nhat speed, an maybe yew wouldn't have a problem with possibly hittin' other people!" The defiant teenager snapped back- but when he heard the engine rev up- all his cockiness faded away and quickly he hoped out of the way of the car, muttering a soft curse beneath his breath as the driver flipped him off and sped off down the road. Pickles snorted as he walked back toward the side of the street- eying the hat in front of him with a soft grin.
"Yew caused me a lhat of problems taday- bhat it was so totally worth it, yet definitely a keeper!" He began to walk back down the sidewalk, suddenly believing that, that place wasn't exactly the best place to be at now, that maybe he should find a different place to practice and hopefully get tips that way. So a few blocks down from where his near-death experience had been, he plopped down- yelping the moment he realized he had plopped down in a puddle full of water.
"FACK! Are yew kidding me?! Stupid fackin' puddles!"
Yet no amount of cursing could help him now. The bottom of his only pair of jeans left were drenched, almost as if he had wet himself. What an embarrassment- so deciding that now it was too late- he plopped down beside the puddle, almost moping to himself. Yet the longer he sat there, the more and more he began to realize that over all the bad that has happened- today was actually a really pretty day outside.
Pickles took a deep breath of the fresh warm air surrounding him. He ADORED the smell right after it rained. It smelt so clean and pure. The sun was beating down on him high in the sky, not to hot, not too cold. The soft gentle breeze caressing his skin making it JUST right. The sun was bouncing off the water making it shimmer- everything seemed just perfect. This was the right spot to begin his onslaught of learning the guitar and forget his woes of the day. He sat down the hat in front of him, preparing himself to begin.
Pickles held the instrument in his hands very close to his chest. For a moment he struggled, finding it suddenly a bit awkward to hold, at least that way. A few trial and errors later- and the flip flopping of the poor old guitar, finally, he had it situated right where it needed to be and to Pickles- it good in his hands. Like this was just something he was meant to do but couldn't exactly do until he broke away from home. This was the sign of a new start, a new beginning and it all it took, was learning this beautiful guitar.
With a deep breath the redhead strummed on it for the first time- the sound it making sending shivers up his spine and making him giggle a bit to himself. This was just.. absolutely perfect. Obviously this guitar was no electric guitar as Guns N' Roses had been, but it was close enough. To him, it was just as pretty in its own little way. Pickles tried it again as he held down a chord- listening to the different sound it made each time he held down one of the six strings. The teenager didn't know it, but for quiet a few hours he had sat there messing around with it, learning each different note, not by name, but by sound and even had his own little interesting rhythm going. At least, when he managed to play it right. And every time he did he would chuckle to himself with excitement trying to figure out what he should add to it next to make it sound even better. People waltzed by him, paying him no mind either going to their own job, or to the market, or just wanting to lounge around on the beautiful day. Everyone was in high spirits after the concert from last night.
Though as even more hours passed of him practicing away, the poor teenager's legs grew restless and so he had been forced to learn how to try and play the guitar as he moved and paced around. Many times the poor redhead found himself running into the brick walls of the building behind him, landing a few good bruises and marks on his head-. But the more he practiced the more and more he seemed to get better at least... he wasn't hitting the wall as much. (for every wall he hit though, he got a five dollar bill, how generous!) But that didn't mean the pain still hurt and was starting to give him a terrible headache.
Slowly the bright beautiful sun began to set and give rise to the glowing moon in the distance, stars began to sparkle in the sky in certain places- and before he knew it the sky was suddenly shrouded in beautiful shades of oranges, pinks, and reds. The signs of twilight fast approaching against the shimmering liquid in the street. Valley people came and went on passed the poor little redhead still. Finally some stopped to listen while others walked on by though none had said a single word. Not a SINGLE word of encouragement or praise even though Pickles had managed to learn quiet a bit from the time he had actually managed to get his grubby little paws on the guitar until now. Even though he didn't exactly what he was playing, it was clear that he had some kind of talent, there just, wasn't a word for it yet. The tiny three person crowd gathered around him now was proof enough. All of them appeared to be the normal yuppies that had been passing him by all day- but ONE in particular caught his attention.
The male couldn't have been a yuppie himself- with his eggplant colored purplish black hair and facial hair- he just looked totally- unprofessional.
Though Pickles didn't question exactly who this strangely dressed mysterious man was, after all, he had just thrown a ten into the hat. Who the hell would complain about a person that had given him such a generous tip compared to everyone else that day? Though the longer he played, well, if you could even call it that, the more and more the other two seemed to get antsy and leave, leaving only two ones in the hat a piece. The other male continued to stay and listen until the redhead had used up ALL his material on the guy. Why the hell did he stay? It made Pickles nervous- he shot him a cautious glare.
"Yew want more-? Put another ten in dere." It was a simple ballsy demand as he pointed toward the hat. The elder man only gave him a soft smile. The grin on his face only making Pickles a bit more nervous- just who the hell WAS this guy? What did he want? Why did he stay there so long? .... he wasn't going to ask for anything OTHER then another song, was he? If so, the teenager could understand why he put a ten in there and he wasn't ever going to do something like THAT again. Ugh, just the thought made him shudder.
"Ya got talent and balls, I like that, not many have either now-a-days. It's respectable, unfortunately for you, I don't have any more money on me, but if I did, I would." He replied simply a soft laugh in his low and quiet voice. Pickles didn't say anything to this, he could only sit there and continue to stare at the strange male with the different colored hair. Was his hair naturally like that? And those muscles... he could see them through the thin shirt that he was wearing, probably because it was such a cool day. Once again though, Pickles' mind wondered to what he could want- and so far, it sounded like trouble.
"Yea, an'? Whats et ta yew?" Pickles snapped his fists clenching slightly. The other male could sense the dangerousness lurking behind the teenager in front of him and instantly began to understand why he was being so distant and cold- so nervous. Did the kid actually believe that he-? It was hard to fight back the laughter bubbling up in the back of his throat. Did he LOOK like that type of guy? He knew he had to break the conversation and make the kid feel a bit easier. Maybe a nice introduction would help? After all, it was the general ice breaker- but on the flip side, the kid didn't seem interested in people either.
"Oh, I meant nothing by it. Just, you know, keep on rocking." And with that the mysterious stranger turned his back on Pickles and began to leave. Just as the teenager was letting out a sigh of relief- he suddenly turned back around. "Oh, and by the way? That hat is mine." It was a playful but serious remark, his gray-blue eyes shining with laughter.
"Oh yea? Well, tough luck. Yew aren't gettin' et back, aye almost died fer da damn thing." He snorted, though, seeming to loosen up just a bit a slight smile on his own face. Maybe the guy didn't have such bad intentions.
"Oh? Well, that's quiet alright, personally? I think it'll look a lot better on you anyway, kid. You seem like the rocker type."
"Eh?"
"Yeah, so, keep it."
For some odd reason, that gentle smile on his face, the way he was looking at him, the way he had said that, Pickles felt his heart speed up a bit, a soft flush sliding across his cheeks. For once he didn't have anything else to say to the male, his tongue felt a bit swollen and thick in his mouth. He couldn't explain what was going on, but, it was something he had never felt before. But before the redhead could get any other words out of his throat, the man was turning to leave again. His long hair swishing behind him. The moment he was out of eye sight the redhead slowly began to relax his heart slowing down in his chest just slightly. That was definitely enough excitement for one day. He deserved a nice shower, a bite of what remained of his small meal from yesterday, and sleep. A LOT of sleep since he would be right back out in the same spot tomorrow morning doing the same exact thing. Early too. Maybe, around six? That sounded good.
Packing up his things he began the long trek back toward the hotel, his mind still reeling about that strange nameless man he had met. It almost seemed like a bit of regret had began to form in the center of his stomach- he should have asked for his name. Then maybe he would have increased the chances of him coming back to see him play again.
"Wait-!"
Pickles stopped himself in mid-step, green eyes growing wide when he realized where his thoughts were heading. "Why da hell should aye care whether or nhat he comes back?! What da hell has ghatten inta yew, Pickles? So what ef he let ya keep da hat and gave yew a ten dallar bill, et's nhat like he was gettin' either of them back! He's jhast, a nice stranger." That you may never see again...
Pickles shook his head growling at himself as he began his brisk walk back home once more. He needed some sleep, that's all this was. He was delirious from being so tired. That's why he was thinking such strange thoughts and wanting to see the male again for some odd reason. Even though he was completely in denial- even when he finally made it back to the hotel and ate, laying back in bed and fell asleep.
Even when he dreamed of that smile.
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Juke Box Hero