"That's it."

9.55 AM

Stella slammed her car door and looked up at the sign.

Vinyl Records.

With a sharp nod, she mumbled, "Let's do this." She opened the single-handled door, and immediately, her nostrils flared as a faint draft of must filled them.

It was the accumulation of dust, body odor, and aged cardboard covers containing the world's greatest songs ever created. God, how she loved this place. She ripped off her sunglasses, and just as she predicted, it was deserted. Not a single person around. Which was ideal for her. The fewer people she had to interact with, the better. People talking gave her hives.

Stella shivered at the idea of holding a conversation with a stranger.

Bending over was a chubby brown-haired guy wearing brown cargo shorts that exposed his ass that would make a plumber proud. Rocking a blue collared shirt with the pattern logo of the record store dispersed amongst the material. His name was Tom Jones, though he went by Tommy.

"Tommy." Stella sang, unable to exclude the overtop excite­ment she was feeling. Rocking back and forth on her toes. She snickered as the poor man basically leapt out of his skin at the sound of his name being called. He's always been an easily startled man.

Looking over his shoulder, his face crinkled with relief when he saw who it was. Pushing his glasses further along the bridge of his nose, he absentmindedly ruffled his hair and smiled back. Which hopelessly failed at masking the sheer fear he had displayed previously.

Stella smiled cheekily. She always got a rise out of scaring him. She was unsure of it was because he lacked excellent communication skills, or he still became slightly tongue-tied when she was near, considering she was a woman who was purposely talking to him. Maybe it was both. Stella was pos­itive. The last time one interacted with him was his grade teacher. Poor guy, she thought watching him scramble to his feet. He attempted to push the box of albums he was racking aside only to end up needing to pick them up instead. He was a sweet, caring, and thoughtful guy. Too bad, those traits are useless when the looks were absent. Stella was not a vain person, just a realistic one.

Tommy cleared his throat as he appr­oached Stella. "Stella Sinclair. Always had the knack of scaring people."

Stella wrinkled her nose, she shoved her hands in pockets, and a soft rumble pushed past her lips. "Nope, Tommy, just you. Never get bored of it either."

"Clearly, you've been doing that since we were five," Tommy reminded her. It was actually how they met. He was alone at the park, the other kids had singled as a weirdo and an outcast. Then there was Stella, her pink and yellow glitter glowing sandals barely toe deep in the sandpit when she had spotted Tommy at the monkey bars, head hung low and sad. She decides to walk right up to him, screaming, "Boo!" Nearly had a heart attack as he spazzed from the random girl. Ever since then, they have been good friends. Only friends. Unlike that was surprising.

"Yeah, well, there's not much to do in this little town," Stella counter-marked.

Tommy snapped out of his thoughts, focusing back to Stella. He managed a smile, "So, what brings you in today? Usually, you're here on Sun­days," he commented now that he thought about it. No wonder he had been taken by surprise. The amount of people that come in on a Wednes­day is minimal at best. So, what was she doing here and not at work?

"Well, if you must know, I have the day off. I know," Stella dragged the word stifling a laugh. "That may appear incomprehensible to you. I swear your boss enjoys overworking y'all like the lackeys you are." Stella's smile widen in reaction to her crack. "Anyway, I saw a record I'm interested in buying on the online website is on sale- "Stella stopped talking when she saw the mortified look on Tommy's face.

Feeling the color drain from his face, Tommy shook his head distraught, filling him. "I had no idea I said all those things." He was appalled that he would say aloud what he had been thinking. Stella scrunched her face in confusion. "What all things? You simply asked what brought me in and noted my predictable work or daily schedule." She scratched her cheek, "Look, Tommy, I was giving you a hard time, that's all. So, please unbunch your underwear and point me to the bin or aisle this record is on?"

Tommy took a moment to collect himself after it dawned on him what happened. He was an idiot. Plain and simple.

Forcing a smile, he spoke, "Sure. What's the name?"

"San Junipero."

Tommy pulled his mouth back slightly as he recalled where that record would be. "Oh yeah, third one back in the sales bins. Can't miss it."

"Cool," Stella replied and took off.

Tommy got back to stacking.

It didn't take long for Stella to find the album and as promised, they were indeed on sale. She grabbed five and bee lined it to the front, where Tommy stood waiting for her.

Dropping the vinyl records on the counter, Tommy began ringing them up.

"You grabbed quite a few, I see." Tommy noted then paused as he stared at the record cover. It was two women peering at each other intensely. Seductively, almost.

"Yeah, they're gifts." Stella leaned against the counter, eyeing Tommy.

"Right." He exaggerated the word his disbelief clear as day in his voice.

Stella's eyebrow twitched. Then she shrugged. "Or maybe I'm buying them to resale on eBay at a higher price? The listings already posted. All I needed to do was purchase the mer­chandise. Who knows," Stella remarked.

Tommy's face fell when he heard Stella's words. He held one of the albums mid-air, completely taken aback. Taking a moment to recover, he spoke, "Seriously? Because reselling is illegal."

"Yet people do it all the time. I mean, two words, Black Friday." Stella shrugged." Anyway, chill dude. This soundtrack is based on the most iconic LGBT video streaming episode in history. It's inspirational for the community and allies who enjoy watching as well. Like hell am I going to sell them."

Tommy's eyes reflected interest. "Is that right?"

"I said what I said."

Tommy pressed his lips together. "So, are you a part of the community or an ally?"

Stella smirked. "What do you think?" Curious of his answer, she crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

"I think you're hot," Tommy blurted out. He cleared his throat at his blunt comment. He could feel his face growing hotter, and his throat tightened.

Stella stared at him. Her arms dropped to her sides. "Hot?" Stella demanded ludicrous at such an out­rageous comment. "What a preposterous comment." Stella clenched her teeth. "Well, to answer your question, I'm a lesbian, but hey, at least I'm hot," Stella preserved.

"He's not wrong."

Stella turned around to see who said that.

There she was, racking the vinyl records Tommy had previously been doing. Standing up, she wiped her hands on her overall's as her eyes steadied on Stella. One strap was unhooked, revealing she was wearing the same blue collared shirt with an abundant amount black vinyl record logos riddled along the material as Tommy's. She had freckles covering the majority of her face and arms, tight blonde dyed coils sprung underneath a Fadura hat. Sharp hazel eyes pierced through blue framed oval glasses. Who was this mysterious woman? Who had the nerve to say such a brazen statement? Carefully, Stella pulled back the corner of her mouth and asked, "Who is that?" in what she hoped to be a barely audible whisper.

"That's Tré. She's new here."

Clearly, Stella thought to herself. Deciding not to comment further, Stella dug a twenty out of her pocket and slammed it on the counter. She grabbed her records if she was short, then she would pay her debt at a later date. Right now, she wanted to hightail it.

Turning to leave, Stella's eyes locked with Tré's once more. Without saying another word, Stella left the store.