setting : record shop in essex, 1997.
you walked down the street, cold and alone. the streets were pretty vacant, as your light footsteps were heard clattering against the damp pathement- in the direction of your favourite record shop.
the small bell on the corner of the door rang as you entered the shop, wiping your feet on the welcome mat and heading straight for the vinyls. you flicked through them,
"beatles, stones, oasis?!" you muttered, "aha!"
you pulled the vinyl from the back, "queen!"
you felt a presence beside you, turning you see a tall, rather skinny blue-haired man.
"you like queen?" he mutters in a meek, quiet voice.
you clutch the vinyl close to your chest, "oh yes! i love queen!" you squeak.
the man looks at the ground intensely, "shame about freddie... you know, passing away."
you frown, he'd only passed away around six years ago at this point. "yes," you whisper.
a long silence,
"is there um, any more of those?" he asks, getting closer and flicking through the albums.
"i'm not sure, this is the first one i saw and i just gra-"
"none." he sighs and turns to walk away, you clutch the album closer and squeeze your eyes shut— boy, you were going to regret this.
"would.... would you like this one?"
he stops dead in his tracks and doesn't even turn around.
"no, no, keep it.. but..." he finally turns back around.
"but.. maybe you could, uh, give me your number and i could come round and listen to it, yeah?"
you smirk, "i don't even know your name, boy." he smiles, his blue eyes staring right into yours.
"stuart, stuart pot." he replies, "what about you?"
you walk over to the counter, he chases after you, "oh come on, i've told you mine!" he presses,
you leave the shop and keep walking down the street with him hurrying by your side. "it's (name)."
he finally gets infront of you, blocking your path. "so, how about that number then?"
"stuart, if i give you my number, will you leave me alone?"
he nods quickly, "oh yes! i won't bother you any longer."
you find a handy pen in your pocket. "arm."
he obliges and pulls up his sleeve, you write your number on his arm- hoping it might smudge off.
"goodbye stuart, now- shoo! shoo!" you tease, waving him off.
he leaves, not before looking back at you several times until he was out of sight. you sigh.
"oh roger, why couldn't it have been you chasing after me?" you giggle, caressing roger taylor's face on the vinyl cover.
