Your Mind Is A Stream of Colors (ReaderxJosh Kiszka)

Chapter One

Fast forward three years and it was the middle of the pandemic.  You were hanging out alone in the front of the record shop where you had busied yourself with work since non-essential shops were allowed to re-open.  Previously, you had worked as a librarian assistant but since restrictions were put into place, they sacked you in favor of the employees with seniority.  The work at the record shop was slow and easy with only a handful of customers coming in daily and only part time hours were available to you.  The income was just enough to cover your cost of living, but it didn't leave much for extra spending money.  You opted to put any spare cash into your savings for a day when you needed it.

You enjoyed the solitude that came with the job. You only ever worked with one other person, Gabe, who always did the inventory in back. He wasn't very much of a people person and preferred the paperwork over the cash handling and restocking duties. You didn't mind either of those. You often spent your time reading up on various autobiographies and flipping through the old blues records against the far wall in the corner. Your favorite thing to do was find the records you would listen to with Sam. You would put whatever record on the large vintage Victrola player behind the desk and reminisce about the times you shared with your old friends.

It didn't make you sad anymore. In fact, you had mostly come to terms with it. Still living in Frankenmuth, you spent your Saturday mornings having brunch with Ronnie and every now and again you would run into Karen at the grocery store. You didn't bother going to their house anymore. It felt alien to you without the guys there. The garage was void of their instruments and the couch in the middle of the room had long been replaced with Karen's car. The record player in the family room was only used when Kelly was home and it was awkward with the silence.

Living on your own, however, you valued the silence. It was rather enjoyable dictating your own life and not feeling the obligation to be around people all of the time. You didn't have to worry about coming out of your shell because Josh and Sam thought you were being too quiet and there were no concerns over how involved you had to be with your own parents. You could just be and that was perfectly fine with you.

Throughout your shift, only a few more customers came into the shop mostly to browse. It went by quickly after you had managed to turn over four more records on the player. You finished your closing duties and parted ways with Gabe, leaving him alone to lock it up and make sure everything was done. Your phone pinged in your pocket as you walked around the corner to where your car was parked.  You figured it was just Ronnie securing your plans for the next morning for your weekly brunch date.  Pausing against the wall of the building beside you, you fished your phone out and checked the screen. 

Sammy 6:47pm
Missing you! (:

You rolled your eyes and shoved your phone in your back pocket.  There was no way.  You didn't have the time for that.  After having spent the last few years doing everything you could to forget how they left and without so much as a single phone call or text message now one of them wants to get a hold of you? 

The rest of the night, you tried your hardest to ignore the message sitting in your inbox.  You still hadn't answered it, but that wasn't the hard part.  There was no inclination to touch your phone.  In fact, it was plugged into the charger beside your bed while you laid on the couch in the dark.  Joni Mitchell's soft voice carried through your apartment as the "Blue" record played around you.  It was one of Sam's favorites and it was one you frequently played when you were feeling down.  It brought the same comfort as feeling full after a big Thanksgiving meal while your family sat gathered in the living room laughing to the point of tears. 

For a moment, you reflected on the first time he played it for you. The two of you had been sitting on the floor of the living room at his house and he was thumbing through the family's vinyl collection. The two of you couldn't have been older than fifteen or sixteen. There wasn't any particular mood you were going for, but Sam's fingers stopped abruptly and he pulled out the monochromatic record sleeve. The second he put the needle down and "All I Want" started to pour through the speakers, something sparked within you. There was something in the sweet tonality of Joni Mitchell's voice and lyrics that took you elsewhere. It instantly became one of your favorites too.