I ran my fingers through my tangled mess of short curls, grunting as my head left my pillow in an effort to get myself up.
Mondays, I thought, dreadful, dreadful Mondays.
I swung my legs over the side of bed, only to be greeted by a small wet spot on the carpet.
“What even, ew! Charlie!” I whispered in frustration. I limped over to my bathroom, flinching as I switched the lights on. I limped my wet foot over to the shower and grew disgusted at the dog urine. I dried my foot quickly and jumped into my sink, scrunching up to do my daily makeup. I straightened my medium length brown hair and looked at myself with triumph in the mirror. I opened my bathroom door to a cold room temperature, sending shivers down my whole body rapidly. I endeavored to find what the source of the cold was throughout my flat. I saw Charlie whimpering by the small dog door, and I just assumed there was something outside scaring him. I opened the back door, well, I tried. Two feet of snow covered the cement ground, and it was packed as hard as a rock. I grunted, grabbing a shovel from my garage and making a pathway to the grass for Charlie to use the restroom. He barked in joy and did his business happily, as I trotted back up my stairs with a cup of something close to coffee. I think it was yesterday’s tea mixed with coffee that I brought from work, but either way it tasted great and woke me up quite well.
I opened my bedroom door and placed my mug next to my large Macintosh computer, and opened my closet door. I lazily threw a navy blue oversized jumper onto my bed, along with my black docs and a pair of black skinny jeans. I threw on my clothes and grabbed my mug, running downstairs and pouring the contents of my mug into a thermos cup.
I opened my front door and frantically shoveled the snow away. Currently, it was 9:00 AM. I dashed down the icy road to the nearest bud stop, waiting in the below zero weather without a proper jacket. Welcome to Essex, it’s always cold. I blew out my normal icy breath as someone unfamiliar scurried over to me.
“Bus lines have been closed for the day, love.” He said. I grunted and checked the time on my phone. 9:23!
“No!” I moaned, beginning to run down the icy road, as fast as possible. I slid multiple times, sliding on my legs to dodge cars frequently. I saw the sign that brightened my cold day, and scurried into Jubilee’s Record Store under the old, flickering neon sign reflecting in the snow.
“YOU’RE LATE!” The voice of my manager, Maleficent, screamed throughout the empty store.
“THE BUS CLOSED DOWN AND THERE’S TWO FEET OF SNOW OUTSIDE!”
“SHOULD’VE PLANNED BETTER, NOW GET TO WORK SKYLAR. HELP IONA IN THE BACK!” I groaned and ran into the back of the store to see Iona, in her normal 50’s Monday outfit, her short brown hair sprayed to make a scent bubble around her. Her eyes looked dreary and the pale green frightened me.
“Iona, you look like you just got run over by the plague!” I ran up to her weak body.
“I… back up, okay? I’ve got... N, pneumonia.” She muttered, making me jump back.
“You need to go home! MALEFICENT, LET IONA GO HOME!”
“SHE CAN MOVE HER ARMS SHE CAN WORK!”
“Hey, Maybe I could quit… Starbucks needs new workers! Alfie works there, okay, I’m going.” She grabbed her stuff and wrote a note, heading straight out of the door and to her house one block away.
“Where did she go?” Maleficent fumed, storming into the back.
“Quit, she got a job a Starbucks.”
“That t! You know what; I bet it was your idea! Go and help that customer while I think of something shitty for you.” She muttered, pushing me out as I grabbed my nametag and personal “Jubilee’s Record Store” Beanie. I walked calmly over to the customer that I recognized to be the nice boy who helped me out earlier.
“Hello, again, I never got to thank you for earlier, is there anything I can help you with?” I asked. He turned to me and I felt my heart begin to swell.
He had pale blue eyes similar to that of a tropical blue water beach, and his pale skin went well with his ginger, soft hair.
“Oh, yeah, I was wondering if you have any of the artist Ed Sheeran?” He asked, putting his hands in his hoodie pockets.
“Ed Sheeran… Sounds familiar, ah yes, right here in the pop section.” I guided him over and found an orange album labeled “+”.
“Pop? I didn’t know I was- I mean Ed was popular…”
“I don’t really listen to that much pop, hence why I’ve never heard of him. I go by where the music is placed here. If it’s in the pop section, I won’t touch it. If not, I will listen to it as much as possible. My manager decides where things are put by the cover of the album, so I don’t really know.”
“Well, I know Ed isn’t pop.”
“How?”
“Because I am Ed.”
“Really? Well, that’s lovely! May I play it throughout the store?” I asked. He nodded a bit and I went over to the stereo system, where I began to play his songs.
I sat down with his and made him some coffee, sipping at my still heated tea-coffee.
“Wow, this is so different from pop… It’s truly beautiful…” I muttered, sitting listening to the music. I shut everything out besides his words, every little consonant, every little beat, every rhythm change, and every lyric.
“Sir, you have talent. I’m getting this…” I went to the back, bringing Ed with me. I went digging through multiple records, literal records, and smiled as I saw the one Iona made labeled “+” and “Cold Coffee- Ed Sheeran”
“My friend made CD’s into records, because I have a record player at home instead of a CD player. So yeah, this is how I listen to music. My name is Skylar, by the way.” I said, stopping to shake his hand. We shook hands and traded numbers before he left, and once he did, I sat down and stared at the record.
That hand shake… It made me shiver.
