Shiny Demon

Hearts Burst Open, Wounds Bleed Fresh

All the shop lights were off, but Seb could still make out the rusted metal sign for Doom Records from a block away. His flat was up the staircase right next to the main entrance, but he pulled out the large key to the security gate. He wanted to be back in the shop as soon as possible. There was someone he needed to see.

When the familiar smell of the old, mildewy building hit him, his eyes prickled with relief. He hadn't realised until that moment how much he'd missed it, and he could already feel his mind settling into old, comforting thoughts of a day's work. Pricing the vinyl, running payroll, organising the racks.

Gabby had done a great job while he was gone. The shop looked well-kept, the racks tidy, the floors clean. They'd chosen excellent placements for new release promos.

He was so happy to be home, but there was an odd tint of pain to the relief. Every step deeper into his quiet sanctuary made him a little more heart sore.

He spotted an old Lucinda Williams poster that was barely visible amongst the overcrowded walls. He'd never gone for the minimalist look there. He liked adding more and more to the walls, layers showing the passage of time like rings on a tree. The print plucked a sad note deep in his chest. It had been decorating the walls for no less than half a decade. He'd originally found it on a rainy day in a thrift store. The artwork had struck him, and on a whim he'd decided to get it. In the Villa, Stevie had mentioned being a fan, and he had intended to give it to her once they got back home.

It was her, he realised with a flash of frustration. He could feel her ghost looming in the shadows and corners. He swatted away the nagging bite of her memory. How could she be haunting him even now? She'd never even been to his shop.

But he'd imagined her there. He'd pictured her combing through the new arrivals, cradling Doom as she explored the aisles, sitting on the counter as she sifted through a stack of LPs like she owned the place. So many disembodied hopes he hadn't even known he had until now.

That sombre spiral halted when he stumbled upon a life size cardboard cutout of himself in his swimming trunks. He looked shiny and coiffed, particularly in contrast to the shop. It was propped up next to a chalkboard that had a speech bubble telling customers that he'd be back soon and to stay hydrated. Stevie would have never stopped taking the piss over it if she'd seen it. He shook off the thought. It didn't matter what she would or wouldn't have done, did it? This was getting tossed in the bin as soon as possible. Certainly before Viv could catch sight of it.

A thread of anxiety tugged at him at the thought of Genevieve. He missed her and was eager to see her again. Start their real life together. But what would she think of all of this? It was so shabby compared to the setting of their relationship so far. Those last few days had been a blur of lush surroundings, sparkling gowns, and Viv's bright sunshine filling up his view.

The extravagance was so unfamiliar. He felt like Cinderella returning from the ball, his Love Island win being the glass slipper that stood out strangely against the background of his old life.

He shook off the anxiety as he made his way to the back office. It was a silly concern. Genevieve saw the best in everything. Including him. It was nice to be thought of that way, even if he didn't always recognise himself in her compliments.

His heart quickened at the sight of a large crate made of canvas and netting that filled up most of the space in his office. He peeked inside and saw that the bottom was scattered with kitty litter, tiny feathered toys, and soft bundles of fur. He counted five kittens in all, curled up together, their bodies rising and falling in rhythm. They were a mix of black, white, and grey. They smelled terrible. He loved them already.