𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗬𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗩𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲 (𝙵𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚢 𝙱𝚡𝙱)

Track 14 | 𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗠𝗲, 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗠𝗼𝗼𝗻 (𝗗𝗲𝗺𝗼)

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"How long have you worked here?" I asked Ari as he locked the front door of the record store shut so that no one would break in during the night. The store even had this drop-down metal fence put up against the storefront window. Inside, it was completely empty and all the lights had been shut off. Ari's boss lived in the apartment above, so he never left the store.

It was an interesting sight to watch Ari commit to his day-to-day job; greeting the passing customers—whether new or familiar—dusting off the front counter, attentively stacking products, stocking inventory, etcetera, etcetera. As fewer people showed up to the store as it closed for the night, it felt like I had skimmed through the history of a simple cornerstone.

"Few years. Long story, but basically, this store was the first place I went to the moment I got here," Ari answered, dropping his keys into his pockets along with both of his hands. The two of us took a stroll back to our bikes. "It was freshman year when I moved to Cloverland. And when they were introducing me to my new foster parents and shit, I just... kinda left and wandered around town for a bit. Something attracted me to this store, so I went inside and continued to wander around. Vic probably thought I was a vandal or something so he tried talking me into leaving, but then it turned into a full-blown conversation about music and bands that we liked," Ari chuckled softly, recalling the memory. "He admired me so much for what I knew at my age that he just decided to let me hang around from time to time every day. This place literally became my safe haven. He gave me a job at sixteen."

"So you've been working here for three years almost?" I estimated, grabbing the handles of my bike, which stood against the bike rack. I began to shiver a little, as it was 7:30 PM on a chilly mid-March evening. In my hand, I gripped tightly onto the paper bag which held my vinyl record.

"Yeah, I sort of became a part of the 'Tunes family'. That's Victor, Tara, Ashley, Taylor, then me. We're all coworkers under Victor. I'm the youngest—and newest—recruit." Ari unchained his bike and hopped on top of it. I did the same.

"We're still going to your house right?" I reassured, Ari nodding in response. "Am I going to have to meet your foster parents?"

"Don't worry, I have a way to steer clear of Mr. and Mrs. Hurricane," Ari joked, pedaling his bike out into the street. He made it seem like he resided in a living hell at home. "Keep up the pace, Northwest!" He shouted, not looking back.

Not wanting to be left too far behind, I frantically mounted and balanced myself on the bike seat, setting my feet down on the pedals. I put the tip of the paper bag in my mouth, clenching my teeth down hard. I leaned forward and biked out onto the street, hurriedly riding back up to Ari's side. Ari giggled quietly as I tried to steady myself on the bike.

We both rode out of the main part of town and found ourselves entering a deeper aspect of the neighborhood. I made sure to stick by Ari's side. He was the one leading the way.

The two of us biked in silence. Our shadows floated by on the concrete floor of the roads we covered, projected by the orange and cream hues of the several street lamps lighting our way. There was an occasional passing glance at one another—a sigh or a soft chuckle—but overall, it was still and quiet. That didn't make it awkward, though. It just felt like we were two friends who respected one another enough to know that no words were needed to fill the empty spaces.

Eventually, once we crossed into a new block, Ari rode his bike back onto the sidewalk, his wheels slowing down. I did the same. While his bike was still moving, he stood up on the pedals and lifted his left foot, swinging it around and climbing off of the bike like it was nothing. He landed on the concrete, holding onto the bike and walking it over to another brownstone house, one that had three stories and looked homey and welcoming.