𝔽 ℜ 🄴 ᗩ 长 ᔆ ❕ ¡ !| 𝙴. 𝙼𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗

- 4 -

You cackled alongside him, sharing old stories and memories of pissing off old teachers and staff members of other establishments. It was the most you had laughed in....long time, to say the least. 

You arrived at the record store two hours before sundown, and you went through the place like children on christmas morning. There were shelves and racks and boxes full of music discs, CDs, cassettes, various posters and red fairy lights strewn across the store. There were band pins and patches, jewelry and keychains, rings and guitar picks. The front wall next to the door was made completely of glass, and stickers and advertisements littered the window. It was like heaven.

An unfamiliar song played through the speakers in the background as you flipped through covers, yelling at each other across the otherwise empty store. You shouted and sang along together, bumping hips and jumping on table tops, careful not to step on anything. The manager had scolded you about your skates so you had to trade them for your sneakers, but you got a good deal on one of the newest albums of your favorite band since Eddie was a frequent customer. 

You picked up a cover of Highway to Hell and beamed at the new sleeve. "Y'know I lost my copy of this on the move here." You called over your shoulder to Eddie, shaking the disc in the air. He looked up from his stack of music and to you.

"Well, there are better songs out there," He shrugged, scanning over the covers in his hands. You gaped at him, holding a hand to your chest. 

"How dare you." You gasped dramatically, whirling on your sneakered foot to face him. He looked back up, an amused glint in his dark eyes. 

"What." He fought the smirk as you watched your antics. "I'm not wrong." He added. Your mouth widened more as you flung your head back, eyes wide with 'pain'. 

"I can't believe what I'm hearing." You whined, leaning across the counter backwards, (h/c) hair lifting and dangling towards the ground. He chuckled and shook his head, walking over to you and leaning over the counter to meet your eyes. 

"Seriously," He started, grinning from ear to ear. "There are tons of better songs L/n. However I will admit, your choice could have been worse." He shrugged. He saw you roll your eyes, still upside down, and smiled with fake glee up at him.

"Thanks Munson." You mumbled sarcastically, shooting up to sit on the counter, hair flying up and settling around your head like a halo. "I never said it was my favorite song." He sat up next to you, shoulders brushing against each other when he shrugged. You were enjoying a comfortable silence, listening to the music playing through the ceiling, legs swinging side to side, occasionally bumping your sneaker against his boot with a random rhythm you had silently come up with. But you weren't used to this. You weren't used to this perfect silence. You weren't used to being able to relate to someone like this. You had been known as the 'freak' everywhere you went, and now you found someone that shared that aspect with you. You had only met him this morning, and you already felt like best friends. It was strange and you weren't even sure if it was real. So you broke the silence.

"This one time me and my friend - when we were like, ten - wanted to get this new album, I forgot for who though. But yeah, we went into the store, and it was like way over our allowance so she started distracting the owner with pathetic questions and shit, while I smuggled the cover under my shirt. It was obvious what was going on, but while he was jumping over the counter to come after us, we were already booking it down the street." You chuckled at the distant memory, watching the sunset through the stores front glass windows with a fond gaze. "The man chased us for three blocks before giving up and cursing us out as we ran up a huge oak tree." You leaned back on your palms, a soft smile creeping up your lips. Eddie chuckled and shook his head.

"Was that your first time shoplifting?" He asked. You nodded with a hum. "You had some good friends then." He mused.

"Eh, she dumped me a week later for the new guy, said she 'didn't want to be held back anymore'." You mocked in a way too high pitched voice. He glanced at you sympathetically.

"I've been there." He muttered, the drums rhythm picking up in the background. Before either of you could say anything else, the manager walked in, tattooed arms crossed.

"Alright kids, I'm clos'n up shop." He announced in a deep voice, keys jangling from his hand. You both sighed in unison and went to the front door, grabbing your music filled bag (Yes you paid for it....alright, most of it) and strode out the door. The sun had almost fully set, only the edge of the hazy horizon visible from the middle of the street. The street lamps had turned on a long time ago, their eerie spotlight lining the streets in between each store along the road. You walked together for a while until you could barely see in front of you, making light banter in the cover of night.

"Well, I guess we should get home." You mumbled into the darkness. He hummed in agreement, the chain at his hip clanking against his thigh with each step. "You gonna be okay walkin home alone?" You added, glancing at him in the oncoming light of a bar window. He chuckled and shook his head.

"I'm gonna be fine Sweetheart. I'm a big boy, I'll take care of myself." He grinned, sleep apparent in his lidded gaze. You rolled your eyes and swatted his shoulder lightly.

"Alright big boy, I'll see you tomorrow?" You confirmed, slight jest in your tone. 

"You know it." He sighed, giving you a lazy smile that made your heart skip a beat. What the hell?

You waved your goodbyes and went your opposite ways, him arriving at his trailer, while you went to your small, two-story house. Your dad could barely afford it, so you knew you'd have to get another job soon. Maybe at the record store? You'd have to ask next time you swung by.

Unlocking the door and not bothering to grab some leftover dinner, you hopped up the stairs and kicked off your jeans, finding some shorts and a moth-bitten t-shirt. Sliding off your shoes you went to your bathroom and brushed your teeth, rinsed your face and set your alarm clock. Finally, after a long day, you collapsed on your blanket strewn mattress, falling into an unexpectedly fitful sleep.

It all started six years ago...