Falling For Mr. Perfect (Daily Updates)

O8 I Feel Myself Falling Further Down

"I FEEL MYSELF FALLING FURTHER DOWN"

Peter followed my directions, taking us to Sound Check. A store that sold CDs, vinyls, cassettes, and merch--most of it preowned. Cherry and I used to go there often when I briefly dated Ivan. He worked there back in tenth grade.

After he dumped me, I couldn't come here. It hurt too much to see him and the girl he left me for, who happened to be his coworker.

Now, two entirely new employees managed the small store.

We stepped in to the smell of incense and a Beatles' song playing overhead. The walls were covered in layers of posters of musicians from every genre of music. The vinyls were organized at the center of the store. In the back were the shirts and the wall opposite the register was full of CDs and cassettes.

"Have you been here before?" I asked Peter as we wandered the aisles.

"I didn't even know this place existed." He looked around the store in awe. His fingers lightly touched the vinyl records as we passed them. Picking up an Olivia Rodrigo record, he said, "Your song kind of reminds me of her."

Hearing that was the highest of compliments. She was one of my top musical inspirations. Heat flooded my cheeks and I turned away so he couldn't see.

Thankfully, something else distracted him. As I suspected, when he saw the shirts, he went straight for them. "This might be my new favorite store," he exclaimed, pulling a Green Day shirt off the rack.

"What is your obsession with band shirts, anyway?" I didn't think I'd ever seen him in a non-music related shirt.

He placed the shirt back, looking at the other options. "I like music."

I thought he was going to leave it at that, but he continued.

"When my mom first left I kinda locked myself in my room and listened to music all day, everyday. My dad and brothers did their best to help me through it. But I couldn't stop blaming myself for her leaving."

He'd been going through the shirts but not really looking at them. When he reached the end, he sighed, pulling a hand through his hair. He must've been lost in some memory.

"Why did you blame yourself?" I asked, carefully. He seemed so fragile at the moment. A huge contrast from his usual self.

He turned his attention to me, his light eyes had a heaviness to them I'd never seen before.

"You don't have to answer that," I said quickly. "It was a dumb question."

He shook his head, washing away whatever sadness was there a second ago. "No. It's fine. I, uh, I caused my parents divorce."

"No, you didn't." The words were automatic. Even if I knew nothing about his parents, I knew he didn't ruin their relationship.

"How could you know that?" There was and edge in his voice as he asked.

"Because that's not how relationships work. You can't make anyone break up." I knew that for a fact because my mom tried to force me to break up with every boyfriend I ever had. Granted, she'd been right about them each time.

His eyes turned an icy blue as he glared at me over the shirt rack. "No offense, but you have no idea what you're talking about."