holiday_pirner (
holiday_pirner) wrote in
birthright_rpg2013-09-13 12:51 pm
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Bad Tastes
When Holly entered Tracks, the record store was mostly empty, save for a few people milling over some new releases. A Cinderella track was playing over the sound system, and strains of glam metal accompanied the brunette as she wandered over to the cassettes.
As she rifled through the Q's, trying to find a Queen album a friend had recommended, a movement in her periphery caught her eye. A boy, maybe in his mid-teens, was grasping a few tapes in his hand and acting twitchy.
Holly tilted her head, watching him closely. He was too busy looking out for store employees to notice her, until she pointedly cleared her throat. "Are you sure those are the ones you really want? I mean, if you're going to opt for the five finger discount, make it worth your while."
The brunette approached him, ignoring his surprised glare. She grabbed one of the tapes and held it up. "This one isn't too bad, but...is that Quarterflash?" Holly shook her head disapprovingly. "I think someone should call your parents just to warn them of their son's budding horrible taste in music."
He pulled away from her, grabbing the cassettes back. "Do you work here?"
As she rifled through the Q's, trying to find a Queen album a friend had recommended, a movement in her periphery caught her eye. A boy, maybe in his mid-teens, was grasping a few tapes in his hand and acting twitchy.
Holly tilted her head, watching him closely. He was too busy looking out for store employees to notice her, until she pointedly cleared her throat. "Are you sure those are the ones you really want? I mean, if you're going to opt for the five finger discount, make it worth your while."
The brunette approached him, ignoring his surprised glare. She grabbed one of the tapes and held it up. "This one isn't too bad, but...is that Quarterflash?" Holly shook her head disapprovingly. "I think someone should call your parents just to warn them of their son's budding horrible taste in music."
He pulled away from her, grabbing the cassettes back. "Do you work here?"
no subject
He looked at the other customers nearby and then inclined his head, indicating that they should walk away from the register. He stopped in front of a rack of band t-shirts that he could feasibly fold and manage to appear busy while they had a conversation.
“Yeah.”
He held up a finger.
“I’m not sure why I walked over here just to say that. Pretty innocuous.”
He grabbed a shirt that a customer had draped over the top of the stack. The Rolling Stones. He attempted to improve its condition and rapidly remembered why he wasn’t the employee who did this.
no subject
Holly casually leaned against one of the racks. "I've kind of taken a break from the harder stuff, but if you're into green, I always have a plentiful supply."
The brunette patted her olive green bag.
no subject
Too bad clarity wasn’t coming. It didn’t seem to matter if he was high or not; nothing changed.
“Trying to be responsible. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.” His mind was on the confrontation with that vampire.
no subject
"Now everything seems painfully unreal, so what do you do then?"
The brunette quickly realized she was rambling. Maybe it was time to just take a shot in the dark. If he thought she was insane, she could avoid the store. He'd never have to see her again.
"So, what is it then? Fangs? Or are you a wolf masquerading as a human?" She touched his arm. "You seem warm enough."
no subject
“I…”
He wrapped his hands around the back of his neck. What should he do, pretend he didn’t know what Holly was talking about, or pretend that he did? Because neither seemed like an honest response. He let his arms flop to his sides. “I’m as human as it gets,” he said. Well. Technically. “C’mon, let’s talk outside.” He pointed at the door that led into the store room.
Unless she was a vampire.
He looked beyond her at the end of the aisle, where a spherical mirror hung on the ceiling. No, she had a reflection.
no subject
"Me too," the brunette replied matter-of-factly. "We have so much in common."
no subject
Brian led Holly through a stockroom. It was cramped with half-empty boxes of casettes, a small table and four chairs for meals, and an assortment of trash bags full of Styrofoam peanuts. The air in there was stuffy, so when he opened the back door, the fresh air was a relief. He let the door slam shut and reached up, where a ladder extended off the fire escape. It rattled to the ground.
“Nobody goes up here,” he said. These days, he didn’t want to hang out in the alley. It seemed excessively dangerous.
no subject
Holly waited for him to go first. It wasn't until a breeze tousled her hair that she realized she still had the tapes in hand.
"I'm going to pay for these, promise."