Leo reached out and took the guitar. The weight was perfect, resting against his lap with a contour that felt like it was custom-molded for human ribs. He ran his thumb over the smooth maple fretboard. "Can I plug it in?" Leo asked.
Leo’s heart sank slightly. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his roll of bills. He laid them out on the counter. "I have eight hundred flat. It's everything I've got." buy fender electric guitar
The bell above the door chimed a dull brassy note as Leo stepped into the humidity of the pawn shop. The air inside smelled of dust and old wood. He had exactly eight hundred dollars in his pocket, saved from six months of overtime shifts at the warehouse. Leo reached out and took the guitar
Leo had been playing a borrowed, nameless acoustic with high action that made his fingers bleed. Today was the day that changed. He was here to buy his first real electric guitar, and in his mind, there was only one name that mattered: Fender. "Can I plug it in
"You're going to actually play it, aren't you? Not just let it sit in a closet?" the owner asked. "Every single day," Leo promised.
The owner swept the money into the cash drawer. "Sold. I'll even throw in a gig bag so you don't get it wet in the rain out there."