Sam

As the doors to the signing room were opened, I heard the masses of fans beginning to trawl in. Using my free hand, I rubbed my temple. It had been 16 song set today – then there was a show in Michigan tomorrow. I’d loved the touring schedule when Mark had first handed it to me, but now I realized how hard it could get sometimes. I looked up. There before me was a petite hand, holding out my debut album to me.
My image stared back at me, grinning and rocking out with a Les Paul. David was stuck in midair, his bass hanging off of him like another arm. Tony looked like he had drank one too many cans of Red Bull as he banged his drums. I chuckled to myself. He probably had.
I took the CD from the hand and looked up, pasting a smile onto my face. “Hi,” I said, in a small voice. The concert had drained me of my vocal capabilities. “What’s your name?” I asked, holding out my hand.
“Emma.” The girl replied, shaking. She wasn’t much older than thirteen, at my guess, and looked as if she was about to faint.
I smiled again, and then focused back onto the album that she had handed me. “To my biggest fan Emma,” I read as I signed underneath the huge title letters at the top that read THE SWIFTS. “From Ava.”
I gave it back to the girl. Her face lit up with delight. “Thank you!” she blurted, before going to catch up with her mother. I felt myself getting that tingling feeling that I got every time one of my fans was happy, just because I had scribbled on something for them with a permanent marker.
I went through another couple of fans, all of them teenagers, when I came to the first one that looked as if he was actually above 18. He was your typical laid-back alt-indie type, I judged. He had long brown hair that fell over his eyes, which had over them black horn rimmed glasses. He wore a plaid shirt with jeans, and walked over to me, giving me a shirt with the band logo on the front. I flipped it over, and then smiled thinly at him. “What’s your name?” I asked.
“Sam.” He replied, “Really good job onstage today. You sound great live.”
I smiled at him, this time earnestly. “Thanks,” I said, uncapping the Sharpie and signing the shirt. “Hope you enjoyed it.”
He took the shirt and walked away without another glance back. He was emotionless, a stone wall. As I watched him leave, I remembered another Sam, one from my own teenage years – he had been the same way, quiet and shy. But in the end, it had been he that mattered the most to me – and in the end, he was the one that had given it all away.

So, feedback?

Yoo!

*shakes hands vigorously*

How are you? How's it been? I missed you around here

On the story: Nice start. I liked how you used the single scene to convey so much information--you highlighted backstory and suggested future tension in a single paragraph.

Using my free hand, rubbed my temple.

Click to expand...

Was there supossed to be an "I" in there?

Post more whenever you can. And welcome back, er, for however long you choose to stay

Hey, Noah/Yoo/birthday bud! Glad to see you back!

I just have a few nit-picky grammar things to say:

Yoo1029 said:

Tony looked like he had drank one too many cans of Red Bull as he banged his drums.

Click to expand...

That drank should be drunk. The forms of tenses are: drink, drank, have drunk. So. And the other thing is that you were close in your spelling error. It's spelled prolouge, and you just switched the g and the u around.

Anyway. Can't wait to read more!

From The American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language:

prologue n. 1. The lines introducing a discourse or play. 2. An introductory act or event.

Yoo1029 is correct. The Spelling Police have spoken.

The bright morning sun shone into my eyes as I stepped out into the open air. It was cold, fresh December air filling my lungs as I breathed in. It was nice to be back outside after nearly an hour of lessons in a stuffy basement. I set my guitar case down next to the steps and sat down on them, opening my technique book.
"That was fun," came a sarcastic voice from behind me.
I turned around in time to see a boy sit down next to me, setting his own instrument down in front of him and flinging his book next to it. He smoothed his hair back and fumbled to take out a cell phone from his pocket. I rolled my eyes. "He's an old guy, what do you expect?"
The boy shot me a look that screamed incredulity. "Just cause you're old doesn't mean you gotta be as boring as paint drying," he replied, looking back to his phone.
I smirked. "Like some other people I know."
A laugh. "Hey, I'm not THAT old. Come on, Ava. Don't compare me to that ancient dude. Guy looks as if he should be stuffed and put in a museum, I swear to God."
I punched him on the shoulder. "Be nice," I said. "He's your teacher."
"He hasn't taught me anything," he exclaimed. "Wow, a few barre chords and some strumming patterns."
I sighed, then looked back down at my book. I heard a car pull up, and a horn blare. "C'mon," said the boy, grabbing his books and his guitar. "Mom's here."
I got up and took the handle of my own case. "You can't say that he hasn't taught you anything, Jacob. Besides, it's recital today. Have some good attitude."
My brother shrugged as we opened the trunk and put our guitars inside. "We'll see."

verry good! i like your use of revealing the character Jacob gradually. quite interesting and clever

Nice post. Was it supossed to be a flashback? Jacob has a lot of attitude

The bright morning sun shined into my eyes as I stepped out into the open air.

Click to expand...

"shined" should be "shone"

"He hasn't taught me anything," he exclaimed. "Wow, a few barre chords and some strumming patterns."

Click to expand...

barre cords? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought they were bar cords.

Posty? *blink blink*

Been away for a bit.

Right. Back to the story. Priority check. -__- Lol.
​

Chapter 1 (cont)

As we got into the car, Mom turned around to look at us. "How was it, kids?"
"Boring," replied Jacob in a monotone immediately, staring at his phone again. "As it always is. Drive, woman."
Mom glared at him, but didn't say anything back to him. She had gotten used to him calling her that after the first couple months. Mom turned to me. "Learn anything new, honey?"
I was about to shake my head, but then nodded. "We got some new songs to practice," I lied, sitting on my folders and books. "It was fun."
"Glad to hear it." Mom looked at Jacob in disgust, then turned back to the front of the car, starting it up. "You guys hungry?"
"We ate an hour ago," Jacob muttered. "Why the hell would we be hungry?"
Just a couple months ago, Mom would have stopped the car and told Jacob to get out. But not now. She just kept on driving, pretending not to have heard him. But I noticed, that when we got to the intersection between McDonald's and our street, she took our street without any hesitation.

Jacob is a jerk!
Good job with the story though. I'm wondering what's up between jacob and the mom - why she ignores it now instead of dealing with his outbursts.