Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Johnny Flynn, Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, Mumford & Sons, Bob Dyaln or The Beatles or anything else you may recognize. (I know, I've got the disclaimer back and have something nice to say to it. I'm a changed woman you know.) Any road, I hope you enjoy this new story! It will most likely be 10-15 chapters, so not a very long one :).

Woman on Fire

August 15th, 2012 Cork, Ireland

Jade's Point of View

I walked along the cold grey sidewalk in the center of Cork, my accordion strapped to my back, my art in one hand and my banjo in the other. People would stare at me as I passed by, obviously dumbfounded by my odd appearance. Of course they were, I was a hipster and I definately did not belong here, or anywhere for that matter. I was an outcast and strongly frowned upon because of what I liked and did not like. Hipsters and considered 'bad' here in Cork, the ones you should 'look out for' but it was all a lie, we are people too and we do all the same things people do. Oh, why can't we be normal? I was sick of hearing that, that's all I ever heard from anybody and it was like nails on a chalkboard to me. I do not swoon over Harry Styles but John Lennon so I am not normal. It made me want to kill everyone right at that exact moment when I heard it but for now I would just have to stay calm and keep moving forward with my life, not sitting about wishing I could be part of a different one. I kept walking, pretending not to notice the harsh eyes that burned holes through my body. My thoughts were suddenly shattered as another body came in contact with mine, nearly knocking me to the ground.

"Uh- sorry there lass," The man looked at me wide eyed, realizing that I was not like him. "I mean never mind." He cleared his throat and walked on. I carried on and walked to my destination, the record shop.

"Helloo Jade! 'ow are yoo?" asked Eugene the clerk, and one of my only friends may I add.

"Ah, not too bad." I replied glumly, not wanting to go into detail about my boring day of walking and being stared at. I trudged over to the B section and scanned about the LPs. Bob Dylan, yes. Beatles, even better. I walked over to the F section and grabbed the last Johnny Flynn record, he was one of my absolute favourites just after The Beatles and Edward Sharpe and The Magnetic Zeros. I looked at the price, ah not too bad. I walked back up to the counter and dug around in the pocket of my dark green velvet trench coat and pulled out the amount I needed.

"Found everything yer looking foor?" He asked

"Um, yep. I did thanks, Eugene." I answered in a monotone voice, I don't know why but I just wasn't in the mood for chuntering on and on. I picked up the brown paper bag and marched out the door, my green lace up boots splashing in the puddles as I walked to the bus stop. I tooka seat under the bus shelter and no one dared sit next to me. Well, there are some advantages to being different.

I stepped onto the bus and we sped off into the grey, dull evening. I looked out the window, enjoying all the scenery especially the green, that is my favourite colour you see. That and mustard yellow, but not together.

I skipped down the corridor all happy like, with my accordion making some type of clunking noise. I loved this appartment, it was built in the late 60's so it's all decorated with physceidelic pictures and the carpet was bright yellow with green dots here and there. It was really quiet hideous but I adored it. I unlocked my purple appartment door and scooted in, I set down my things on the counter and raced to my turntable to play my new records.

The water sustains me without even trying, the water can't drown me I'm done with my dying. The peaceful sounds of Johnny Flynn and Laura Marling's voices filled my head, I swayed along to the music and went to turn the telly on.

"Now with Music, Dave Greenhough."

"Ah, yes and today we will be chatting about The Beatles!" He shrieked, obviously unworthy of speaking about the Fab Four. "It seems today there popularity is increasing drastically! People are saying they are almost as good as British boy band One Direction!" I flipped off the television, nearly ripping the dials off as I did so. Please, 'almost' as good as One Direction? They've got to be kidding me. Popular? Please shoot me in the head, right now. How could this happen? I mean it's gear and all they are popular but now can I ever listen to them again? I know it's ridiculous but I don't think I can anymore. Ever.

Hello! So, what did you think? Did you like it or was it terrible? Oh, god. Just please review... please?

- 1967 (Lorbern)