My Moon

1

Martin held the vinyls in his hand, putting them back in their record sleeves. He was dusting, and cleaning up the record store as usual.

He'd been working in this shop, for the past 3 weeks. It had a good pay, and he had somewhat knowledge of songs, himself.

Being a high school student with big dreams, he'd decided to start working part time at a young age, to gather up money for stuff he wanted to buy.

This way he'd learn responsibility and the worth of money himself.

The owner was a nice old man, with great taste in music, but a little questionable taste in fashion sense. No wonder he was still single at 40.

Luckily Martin landed a good spot and continued working everyday after school.

Other than caring for the record store, he'd usually be sitting at the front desk. At the point, he knew everyone in the town who played music or listened to the old-style, retro music.

Usually it would be men in their late twenties or early thirties who would come by, sometimes women in their early twenties, would pass by as well.

But seeing any high school student here was rare.

Martin only came to the conclusion that not every high school student would have the same music taste as he did.

Martin had a few friends, who would stop by at his shop at times. But it wasn't anything unusual. They were just like him, around his age, who got into this style of music because Martin introduced it to them.

But there was one specific person that caught Martin's eyes.

Someone who always visited the store as soon as school ended, and he'd sit in a corner, listening to his retro-styled walkman.

Martin didn't recognize the latter's uniform in the early days, but started paying more attention to detail because the boy was a regular.

Martin knew nothing about him, because he was such a quiet kid. He barely talked and didn't interact at all.

A few things he noticed about him were, that he kept scribbling onto a notebook he always had on him.

Usually he would be drawing something on the paper, or would be writing down lyrics, yet making not a single sound.

Each time Martin passed by him, all he would hear was the sound of pencil being traced along the paper, and soft hums.

Other than that, he had a lot of old-school vibes, he carried a walkman with him and kept cassette tapes with him.

And after observing him for a while, he'd noticed that the boy liked MICHAEL JACKSON a lot. Usually he'd grab a CD, vinyl or cassette tape of his, and listen to his music all day long.

The boy had also memorized all the prices, whatever or how long he'd listen, he'd have the exact amount of money in his pocket each time.

He come by the front desk, place the money, bow and leave. Without a word, as always.

At one point, Martin even thought the boy might be mute.

He tried to find out more details about him, anyhow. He went out of his way, asking Juhoon, a classmate, and friend of his, if he knew where he studied.

Juhoon didn't know much, but he recognized the uniform he was wearing and informed him that the guy Martin was so curious about, was a student of Hanlim Multi Art School.

"What!?" Martin spit out the milk he was drinking, making Juhoon scowl.

"Ew, dude." Juhoon said dusting his own uniform.