chapter one: his name is ludwig van beethoven

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         When my bra snapped during the first hour of my shift, I instantly knew that my first day at work was somehow going to go horribly wrong. Standing awkwardly in the corner of the store, I frantically adjusted the clasp before a customer came walking in. There were no other employees in the CD and DVD rental store; just me, Kiara Bergmann, the girl with no work experience stuck in a lonely store.

         I don't know what was funnier; me working at a CD rental store, or this place being called C&D Rentals.

         The only exceptional thing about the job was the music; playing Vancouver's number one hit radio station in the background made me in the mood to dance any time a customer wasn't around (which was all the time). An Ed Sheeran song was playing softly in the background. There was a jingle of the front window door as I was humming along to the song.

         Although this person was the second customer of the day, my heart skipped a beat since this was the first real first customer of the day. The first customer that had walked in hours earlier had mistook this place for a pizzeria.

         "Hello!" I chirruped, bounding my way up to greet the rather frail looking lady who had just walked in. "Can I help you?"

         Always be nice to the customer, the manager of the store had said before he left for a two hour long coffee break, or else you'd be losing my income.

         Her mouth opened, then closed. She exhaled some breath that I didn't need blown on my face. Then her lips parted again, this time to speak with a raspy voice. "I'm looking for a CD."

         Why else would you walk into a CD and DVD rental store? "Um, what kind of CD?"

         It took her a while to swallow whatever was at the back of her throat. "Something for my grandson."         

         "What type of CD would he enjoy?" I tried not to falter my smile.          

         "Oh, I don't know," she said in a slow, unhurried pace. "Do you have some Ludwig van Beethoven?"

         "Beetho-what?"          

         "Beethoven?"

         "Uh, I'm not sure," I said honestly, pulling my smartphone out of the back pocket of my jeans. "Give me a second, I'll make a quick Google search."

         I typed in to the search bar: Baytoeven. Thanks to my fast data plan, the search was instantaneous.


Did you mean: Beethoven


         Tapping on the link with my index finger, I waited until there was a link Beethoven' Wikipedia page, which I also tapped on. His birthdate was 1770. He was obviously dead. I narrowed the facts down, and figured him to be a classical composer.

         "I think he's in the classical CD's section," I said to the lady who had been patiently waiting. "Follow me."

         Leaving the lady in the classical section to ponder on Beethoven CD's on her own, I stood behind the cash register in place, waiting for the lady's payment. The radio had kept me entertained, but the lady had taken half an hour to choose a single Beethoven CD as I waited behind the register for her.

         Scanning the barcode of the product, I glanced at the album cover and squinted. This Beethoven dude had an awfully scary looking face. And his hair. I didn't even want to talk about the hairstyle he wore (it was that bad). It was like he was struck by lightening.

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