RECORDS ◈ FINN WOLFHARD

3 | Wanna Trade?

Y/N

_

I'VE NEVER REALLY felt that strange feeling for a long time.

You know, that feeling that makes you want to squish into a ball and roll away. Not because I was scared, but because I could just envision all the mistakes I'd make as soon as I walked back into the record shop. Finn maybe left the coupon in there by mistake, and I'd just be embarrassing myself by thinking anything other of it.

He said he liked my songs, at least, so that was something. I've played in front of 50,000 people, would do it tonight, and yet I was scared to go to see one.

Frick this.

Grabbing the door handle, I walked inside the shop nervously. It was like I was repeating the same motions as yesterday. Feeling the air-conditioning on my skin, to hearing the Indie-Music blasting, and then the familiar stacks of records on the tables.

But wait... is that my song?

I recognized the lyrics to my album, the one that apparently made him cry, and it made me feel a little warm inside. I spotted Finn behind his desk, scratching something down into his notebook. He didnt' see me.

"You're playing my song," I said, causing him to jump out of his seat, "that's cute."

When he recognized me, he instantly stood onto his feet and brushed his curly hair out of his face.

"Hey!" He said, smiling sheepishly, "yeah, I am."

"Did it make you cry this time?"

"How could it not?"

I let out an amused exhale, approaching the desk with lingered haste. Slipping the tiny paper out of my sweater pocket, I slid it across the table and smiled. Finn's expression made it clear he put it there on purpose.

"I heard I could get two records for one," I grinned, "is that true?"

"True until tomorrow."

"Really?"

"It expires then."

"Good thing I came today," I nodded, "can I take a look around?"

He walked out from behind the desk, and guided me over to the vintage record part of the store. I liked that he knew I loved retro hits. I watched eagerly as he pulled out a worn White Plains album, flipping it around to show me.

"Single track of my baby loves lovin'," he said, "one of the greatest 70s hits."

"Is that so?"

"I believe so."

"I'm more of an ABBA girl," I said, reaching over to pull out a familiar casing, "I grew up on Mamma Mia and Angel Eyes."

Before Finn had a chance to respond, I caught sight of a fairly new rendition of Shania Twain's 90s album. Obviously, it wasn't sold on vinyl, but apparently someone adapted it onto it.

"My friend Harry would love that," I said, picking it up, "I think I'll go with these two."

"ABBA and Twain?"

"Indeed, Wolfhard."

The boy seemed shockingly impressed that I remembered his name, and that made me feel a little sad. He didn't think I'd come back either, did he? I understood that I might have seemed busy, but I wouldn't have forgotten about his help yesterday.

The boy bloody stitched up my ear! That was something I would never forget.

Finn slid over to his desk, scanning one of the vinyls with super speed. He had a soft smile on his face the entire time, but I didn't know what to think of it. Maybe I should have, but now wasn't the time. I had a plan!

"Thank you," I said, once he handed me the albums, "wanna trade?"

As he picked up my credit card, he cocked a brow. Cute.

"What?" He laughed, "trade for what?"

I reached into my pocket again, but this time I pulled out a different slip of paper. Not the coupon, but something else. (technically, this was Niall's idea, but he wasn't here to take credit. hehe)!

"You gave me the coupon," I explained, handing him the paper, "so I'm giving you a ticket."

"A ticket to your show tonight?"

"Yep."

"Holy shiiiiiiiiiiii," he started, clearly in disbelief, "these are front row!"

"I had them reserved," I blushed, scratching the back of my neck, "I just wanted to let you know I'm eternally grateful for your help yesterday."

I meant that. I wasn't just being polite, I was telling the honest truth. I'd probably be passed out in the hospital right now, unable to do my show because of blood loss. Thankfully, he prevented that.

Thank you, Finn Wolfhard.