But this time, something's off. The colors are too vivid, the shadows are too dark. I'm sitting across from her, my chair going back and forth. The room feels somehow larger, the walls stretching into an indistinct darkness.
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"Mornin', Gavin. How's it going?", I mumble under my breath, trying to sound as natural as possible. "Good, yeah. Came by to rent another movie again, you know me", I let out a scoff before pausing. "What movie? Oh, I.. I'm not sure yet, I think it's called The Handmaiden? I don't really know what it's about and I definitely don't know if it's got any explicit scenes", I chuckle breathlessly before shutting my eyes in frustration. I stop pacing around and take a deep breath, leaning my body against the wall before exhaling. "Okay, Beth, you can do this. Let's go once more".
The silver neon lights above me tremble as I go over the pathetic dialogue in my head. My stomach hurts at the mere thought of this conversation actually happening and I take my face in my hands.
This is where being the number one regular customer doesn't come in handy: I can't rent anything without the owner knowing about it. Gavin Romero, the owner of the struggling video store I'm currently standing out of, is the least judgemental, most genuine person you'll ever meet. He knows everything there is to know about movies, he's in love with cinema so the thought alone of me telling him that I want to rent The Handmaiden, a very explicit movie from what I've heard, makes me want to turn around and desperately run all the way home.
I curse my sisters for picking an explicit movie for korean movie Monday and making me come over here to rent it as I look up at the trembling neon lights. It's been two months since we moved back here and I've spent the entirety of them coming to Silver Star, browsing through the dusty rows of DVDs obsessively while talking about James Stuart and Rob Reiner with Gavin. We share the same views on cinema and I love listening to him talk about his favourite movies. He's twenty two and he's brought this whole new aura to the video store, reorganising and fixing it up all summer. His dad went to high school with mine and he used to run the store until two years ago which is when Gavin took over. We used to rent two DVDs per week back then, before mum died. Now six years later we're back and thank God for this little video store because it's been my shelter, my absolute favourite place in this town ever since July. And yet here I am now, feeling utterly foolish and unable to walk in.
"This is ridiculous", I mumble under my breath while looking up at the faulty neon sign, the words Silver Star reading Sir Star since the three letters turned off last month. "I can do this. He's not gonna care. It's just another movie", I repeat to myself before taking a deep breath. I exhale and fix my posture, then walk into the store confidently.
"Mornin', Gav", I say nonchalantly while pulling the hood over my head, not giving him a glance. The dolphin wind chimes on the door tinkle as I walk in and I put my hands in my hoodie's pockets, playing it cool.
Though obviously on edge, I can't help but feel instantly engulfed by the familiar warmth and comfort of the store and I let myself relax for a second. The sunlight is pouring through the windows, complimenting the emptiness of the store as well as the wooden rows of forgotten DVDs. It's always been empty like this, but this particular time of day gives the emptiness a special kind of beauty. It almost looks magical with the way the dust is dancing around the sunbeams and I take a second to admire the stillness of that moment. Well, that's until my gaze lands upon the Foreign movies section.
I walk straight towards it, knowing exactly where to look and roll up my sleeves. I flip through a bunch of DVDs– Oldboy, Train to Busan, Minari, Poetry– and get that sudden, intense feeling of wanting to rent them all. Just then, another idea comes to mind, making me stop for a second.
