Chapter 1: Record Store
"Hello, how can I help you?" I asked without turning my head. It was my thirteenth hour in the same, small and smelly record store. The black and cracked walls were trying to suffocate me. There were shelves everywhere and and the shelves were filled with old, damaged records. Some of the shelves were uneven and the records were about to fall. Even I didn't know what I was doing here.
"I was just going to ask the song that's playing. I heard it from outside while I was passing. It is a nice one." He had a deep voice and his voice smelled like a Starbucks cappucino.
I turned my head up and made contact with his big and green eyes. He looked like he was having a lot of fun. His shoulder-length and yellow hair was swinging as he followed the lyrics with the music:
"Take my hand,
We'll make it I swear."
As he sang, his dimple in his left cheek appeared. I always hated dimples. And I hated guys that have long hair. Guys who wear grey knit caps. Guys who try to talk with me while I was working at 11 pm in the evening.
"Well, it is Livin' On a Prayer. If you didn't know the name, how do you know the lyrics?" I asked. I know that I was being rude, but who really cares?
"I knew the name of course. I know all the Bon Jovi songs. But, I just wanted to make sure you know the name." he said with another grin.
Okay, I was pretty pissed off. I created the song list. Is it possible that I don't know the songs?
"Of course I know them. I created the list." I said. "Well, dude if you ain't gonna buy anything, I will start to clean this place. It's 11:30. You should go home too. Be careful with the street." Then I got up from my rusty chair and started to grab the records that fell to the ground.
"Be careful with the street? What do you mean with that?" he asked curiously. I hate the fact that I chose Livin' On A Prayer as a song. Now I have to communicate with him or he won't leave.
"You are not in your street, boy. These places are dangerous." I said. The record store I work in -Killer Records- was in Sunnyside. "This place is called the most dangerous ghetto for a reason. I don't want you to die. I don't want to end up in jail, you know?"
I heard him laugh again. "Well, I didn't know that. I will be careful then. Should I go out now?" he asked with a more serious voice.
"You use drugs? you carry some with you?" I asked back to him.
He looked like he was a bit scared. Better, I thought. Beware me.
"No and no." he said. "You use dr-them?"
"Not anymore. I asked it because some boys out there can even kill you for that. Nothing will happen to you, bro." He looked revealed. I thought that he would leave me alone so I can go back to my boring life and maybe sleep. But he stood there while I was carrying the records to their places. I could feel him watch me while I was reaching to top shelves.
After I finished cleaning the store, I grabbed my black and old coat from the counter and I stared at him.
"What?" he asked.
"You should leave now." I said. "I must leave here. And I am the owner for now. So I am leaving too. So bye. Nice to meet you. But bye." I couldn't hold it and started to smile. Another day of my life over. I was closer to death than I was yesterday. And the idea of that made me extremely happy.
"But I don't have anywhere to go." he said. He was looking to his feet.
"Who has?" I said. This had to be quick. Like really quick. Or I will have to stab him.
"I'm not lying. I don't know what to do. I don't even live in the South."
"The South? I will pretend that I didn't hear it. You must not never ever offend a Texan. If you want to live. Anyways, stay in a hostel. Or in a park bench." I suggested. I really hated the slob.
"I don't have any money." he said with a whisper. He looked like he could cry.
"What happened? You ran away from your family like a baby and then got robbed?" I started laughing.
"I was in a road trip with my friend. But we had a fight and this happened as a result." he joined my laughing. Did I also mention that I hate boys with really good teeth? Did your parents really pay for braces? Waste of money.
"Oh come on. I can't take a 15 year old with me to home. My roommates would laugh till they tear into two."
"I'm not 15." he said, quite offended. "I'm 22."
"And I'm f*cking Oprah." I said. then I looked at my watch. "Look, I can't talk right now. Well, let's say that I'm running from someone and you are making me late. So, good luck with your life. Hope you find a shelter and die when you are 89. Not now. Bye." I started to walk as quickly as possible. Not today, I can't see him today.
"You waited then, darling. I'm still waitin' ." When I heard his loud voice, I froze. I turned around, and saw him standing right behind me.
With the happiest voice, I said:
"Oh, hello Mike. Nice to see-"
"ENOUGH. Just give it." he screamed. Let's make this straight: Just because I want to die, doesn't mean I want to get killed by stabbing.
"Not now, Mike. Just wait until the end of the month. I promise, I will give it then." Here you go. This is me praying for mercy. You're welcome.
"Ummm, no." he said with a sharp voice. "I want it now. Give it, or I'll have to call Ralph."
"Please. I can give you my watch. I can steal some records for you. I can even give you one of my girl roommates. I can give you everything but that." I said again.
"Is it that hard to find 12000 bucks? You'd better thought before you made that sh*t." he opened his phone. And started to search for Ralph's phone.
"No. Please. I don't want to die." I pleased.
"Don't make me laugh, Drew. I don't want to die." He imitated me. "It is not my choice."
H efound the number and showed it to me. "Poor girl. But it is dangerous out here."
And just as he finished his sentence, I saw a hand right next to him. And a bat. A baseball bat. It fastly hit Mike's head. Without even knowing, Mike fell to the bare and cracked ground. I hoped that a car would come and kill him.
I looked around and saw only one person: my saver AKA the on-a-road-trip-but-had-a-fight-with-my-bff suburb kid. He was holding the bat like it's sacred.
"What the hell you think you are doing?" I asked him. "You will get yourself killed." I tried to catch my breath. I was going to be murdered. But, he saved me.
"No, you were getting yourself killed." He placed the bat to the floor. "And you're welcome."
"Where did you get that bat?" I asked to change the subject. I am not a thank-you-person.
"It was here. I don't know why." he said simply. You can find everything in these streets.
He was looking at me like he was expecting something. I knew what I had to do.
"So, for a thank you, ı think I should invite you to my beautiful house." I said without even breathing. This is a nightmare.
"Great. Thanks." He said with a deep smile. At least his smile was nice.
"Let's go. And let's not talk until we arrive. Then I can tell you the rules." I said, trying to sound as boring as possible.
"Okay. But first, what's your name?" he asked.
"Drew." I said. And I forced myself to ask back. "And yours?"
"Chris." He said. We shaked hands. His hand got covered with dirt and alcohol. but he didn't seem to care.
Together, we started to walk in the dark streets, both scared and uncomfortable about the things that happened.
