Lost Hope

Chapter Four

The bell above the record shop door rings as another customer enters. I keep my eyes glued on the pages of the music book that helps to pass the hours of my shift. One day, I'm going to share my music with the world and allow them to heal with me. That's all I've ever wanted — to help others through my lyrics.

I can only hope that it'll happen. Sometimes I can't help but doubt it, because hope is usually lost on me.

The next song on my playlist blasts out through the speakers that are spread throughout the shop. Luckily no customers have asked to play their recommendations, so I'm able to listen to my comfort music in peace.

"Well, hello there."

I look up so fast that I almost snap my neck. Brains is stood against the counter, grinning at me while he strokes his finger against the wood.

"Never say that again. That was so creepy."

"Creepy. That's a new one," he mutters to himself.

"A new one?"

"To add to my list."

I recoil my head and pull my eyebrows together. "What list?"

"The list of all the things you've called me."

I scowl and roll my eyes before looking back down at my book which seems to be more interesting than him.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I'm a customer. Maybe I'm buying something."

"Buy something then."

"I need your advice. You're the shop assistant, right? Aren't you meant to help me?"

Sometimes I really hate my job.

I lift my head and allow my tired eyes to rest on his face. "Okay. How can I help you?"

"Who's your favourite artist?"

"Why?"

He presses his glasses up his nose; something he tends to do when he's up to something.

"I want your opinion."

I sigh. "I don't know."

Pursing his lips to the side, he takes a step back and taps his fingers on the counter. "Is this your music playing?"

"Yes."

"I see." He takes another step back and finds himself searching through the many CD's. He looks through them all for ten minutes until he finally makes a weird, happy noise and grabs a CD.

He catches my eye, grinning from ear to ear as he walks towards me with a slight bounce in his step. It looks as though he's almost proud of himself.

"Just this, please." Brains sets down a Lana Del Rey album in front of me. I clench my jaw and bite my tongue as I scan it through and tell him the exact amount, not even allowing him to use a discount because he's a friend of mine.

"So, what time do you get off?" he asks.

"Why?"

"You're full of questions."

"Because you're making no sense."

"I'm making perfect sense, you're just paranoid and think everything I do is suspicious."

My face falls. "I'm not."

"Beg to differ."

"What do you want?" I finally snap, raising my voice to further show my frustration towards him.