Female POV Fiction
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
The Reeds was an Old 40s movie theatre turned live music venue and cafe. The lobby with its midnight blue walls and retro red carpet greeted her with its signature aroma a blend of coffee grounds baked goods and buttered popcorn with 15 minutes till showtime. The place was packed, customers lounged around, chatting, drinking and eating or less fan favorite cookies made by the reeds owner and baker Extraordinaire as they waited for the theater doors to open. Once she settled onto one of the cool metal bar stools, Bell caught a familiar sight by the entrance. Her ex tall, dark haired, skinny with his face nuzzling into another girl's neck blaze. Her ex boyfriend as of two weeks ago seemed to have moved on without issue considering their eight month run. A curse formed under her breath. He must have been working tonight. She mentally shoved a middle finger to the universe. The nuzzled blondes giggling grew louder. Just before Bell was about to make a beeline for the bathroom to escape it. Orla stepped into view. I had a feeling you'd come by, Orla said smiling as she placed a cupcake with vanilla icing spread delicately across the top. Reading Happy Bell Day in front of her. Bell grinned. How did you know neck nuzzle er told you didn? T or let's face twisted and confusion before she turned around. No P. D. A blaze! She yelled. I don't pay you to suck faces. Her ex's gaze flickered to Bell or at least she thought it did with what little she could see through his long flat ironed bangs. You barely pay me at all. I shouldn't have to pay my nephew at all. Orla turned back to Bell. Anyway, happy birthday Bell. I know Coffee cake is your favorite. She tilted her head, frowning. You look sort of rough, bad day. Oh, you know the usual. Got fired from my job, yelled at by my sister. Having an existential crisis. Normal day. I see, she grimaced. Well, you know, I'd hire you here kid, but I can't afford to pay another salary. No biggie Orla, thank you for making my day a little better. She took a bite out of the cupcake, nearly moaning at the velvety smooth icing. So the lead drummer of squash sauce called me today said he'd injured his hand and they'd have to cancel the Halloween show. Bell reared back, choking down her bite. Halloween Night fell on a saturday this year and with squash sauce. A local punk band that had been on one of those national Good morning shows last year. It was going to be the biggest show in years, but Orla didn't look disappointed strangely. She was smiling. Orla. Bell cried, what are you gonna do? I told him I knew an amazing drummer that could take his place. What do you mean? Bell blinked? Don't freak out or like, continued raising a tawny brown hand, but I've set you up to rehearse with them Tuesday at two o'clock. They're going to see how you do first. If they like you then you'll perform with them on Halloween night.