Raconteuse // Halsey

1

"It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness and pain; of strength and freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature and everlasting beauty of monotony."

-Benjamin Britten

She was all of above, unified into one. Which is why it fails to surprise me that she chose to employ herself at the local record store.

They call it 24th Street Records. It's this rundown, decaying building that, for some reason, is still in business. Very few people still shop at it, and I, most likely being their best customer, appreciate it extremely. Rotting walls and all.

The record store is a place of bliss, in my opinion. Vintage posters for 99¢. Poorly printed T-shirts of several different bands. And of course, only the best vinyls ever.

I typically go for rock, punk-rock, indie, and acoustic. Although, I genuinely respect all genres of music. I believe that if it makes you feel something, then it's worth listening to. She had the same view on the subject.

One thing that always fascinated me was the vibe I would get as soon as I stepped foot in that store. It was like coming home after a long trip, but twenty times better. I was always greeted by the warmest of smiles, which was a first back then.

My favorite part about the store was getting to run my fingers through all of the different vinyls. There was so much emotion and feeling behind each one and I was always able to feel that with every touch of the worn-out plastic protecting it.

I've always wondered why I never decided to work there. I could have used the extra money. It just always seemed like it was her place to be. It was her job. It was her $7 an hour.

I just wish that I was her's.