Loving The Rock star (Lesbian Story)

Running Into Old Friends

(Lily’s POV)

My fingers run across the wide array of records in a small shop in Williamsburg. The place is a relic certainly, with mint green paint peeling off of the walls and a Velvet Underground record on the lonesome turntable in the corner. The only relatively new item in this shop is the teenage boy sat behind the register. His name tag says TJ and he has a Black Flag t-shirt on. He sits behind the counter watching over the store like an all seeing higher power. He knows everything and sees everything. The kid looks like a modern punk but nothing too over the top. He’s probably just trying to earn some money to make it to college or maybe take some girl he met on the streets out to a movie.  

His bored expression proves that he most likely would rather be out skating in some abandoned parking lot. I try my best not to keep staring but the kid intrigues me. I don’t know he just seems cool. He is there but he is not noticed. Finally, he meets my gaze. “You need something?” TJ probably thinks I just stumbled upon some popular Nirvana song on the internet and now I want to buy all their records or something like that.

I grab Jacky’s favorite, Pink Floyd’s “The Dark Side of the Moon,” and shake my head. “I just wanted to buy this, thanks.” He slowly nods his head and goes back to drawing circles in a notebook. I start my way towards the faded front desk licked with dents. I set the record down carefully so that the already disintegrating sleeve won’t damage any more.

A ding signals a new customer and change from TJ. His boyish grin peaks up at the new customer and then back at me. I wait for him to bag my record impatiently. His body leans forward and with full lips next to my ear I hear, “Dude I think that chick is famous.” I raise an eyebrow and slowly turn around nonchalantly.

With what should have come as no surprise, the woman I’ve been trying to forget for months is busily browsing through the rock section. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I let out. Both TJ and Taylor dart their eyes towards me and suddenly, Taylor’s face hardens.

The blonde that is now rocking a shorter hairdo shoves her hands in her pocket, “Lily.” There’s a curt way about it and it almost seems formal. My name falls off her tongue as if she’s just said the name of her fourth grade teacher. Every emotion that I finally was able to bottle up and store away gets opened up and kicked over by some toddler running in my brain.

“I came to Williamsburg, fucking Brooklyn to try and avoid you. Why are you here?” It comes out as a shout and this is not how I pictured it would be. I thought I would be more passive and civilized. Poor TJ must be really uncomfortable. This is what happens though; Taylor always does this to me.

She seems taken back. “I’m sorry. We’re going on tour in a few days and I was picking up some records for the road. Um, I didn’t know I wasn’t allowed to come here.” Her voice is polite and not at all sarcastic. It’s a genuine apology.

I try to gather myself and not just slap her on the spot. I clear my throat, “No, I’m sorry. You have every right to be here just as I have. I’m sorry for overreacting.” It takes everything in me not to start ranting.

She laughs that smooth chuckle of hers and smiles, “Look at you all grown up. As soon as I saw you I thought I’d be starting tour with a black eye.”