Retribution [H.S]

12

Harry Styles

Tuesday's in work were always the most dull, it was inventory day and with the amount of old records in the shop it almost always took up all day to get it done, along with serving customers in between and remembering where you were up to with the stock. I was always drained on a Tuesday evening and I could already feel my eyes dropping and it was only 3 in the afternoon, I still had 3 hours to go.

I picked up the old, battered clipboard and placed it down on the counter next to the till, marking the place on the list with a pen so I remembered where I was up to. I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the slight sting radiating over my eye lids.

"Leonard I am just heading for a cig, I won't be a minute" I call out to Leonard, the owner, before he mumbled something inaudible from the stock room, making me chuckle slightly under my breath.

Leonard was a smaller man in his 60's, his grey hair was long and messy and always strung up in a messy man bun at the back of his head. He was always wearing stonewashed denim Levi jeans, a band t-shirt and a leather jacket. He was definitely stuck in the 70's and he was unbelievably cool.

I hoped I could be like him when I was older, he was a kind man, he had his quirks but he was mostly gentle and had become the father figure I never really had growing up.

I was stood outside leaning against the wall puffing on my cigarette, trying to wake myself up. I liked this part of London, it was what I would call vintage. It was full off independent shops and bars and restaurants, they were always full of interesting and quirky people, who had a whole array of colorful stories to tell, and I always loved listening to them.

I flicked my cigarette across the street before heading back inside glancing at the watch on my left wrist, 2 hours and 50 minutes to go.

"Right, its half 5 I'm off" Leonard announced snapping me out of my mundane task of neatening up the records in the crates, he was zipping up his leather jacket with his motorbike helmet balancing under his arm, "don't forget to lock up and"

"and post the keys through my door, yeah I got it" I smiled as I spoke the end of the sentence in unison with him, every Tuesday I locked up the shop and posted them through his flat door on my way home so he could open up Wednesday mornings. It had been the same every Tuesday for almost 2 years.

"Good lad" He smiled, patting me on the back as I was putting the last few records in their place before starting clean up. I watched as he hopped onto his bike at the front of the store before firing it up and hearing the engine roar before he darted off down the road. So fucking cool.

It cleaned up the shop and made sure everything was turned off and all the cctv cameras were in working order and it was finally time to go home.

I had the key in the lock of the shutters outside as they were slowly lowering to the ground when my phone chimed in my pocket.

1 New Message

From: Nialler

Pleaaaase pick up Pizza on the way home, 2 large. We have company ;)

I furrowed my eyes down at the text, company?

We never had company, let alone had company for dinner.

I shook my head and jammed the phone into my pocket, turning the key back to lock position and throwing them up and down slightly, catching them every time.

Before long I was at our front door with two large pizzas from Mario's, kicking it through the frame, I could hear the sounds of females laughing when one giggle cut through the air and I knew instantly who that giggle belonged to.