Behind the Camera Lens [On Hold]

Chapter Six

10:31 A.M., Holiday Inn (Wes)

The snow came fast. The sparkling white substance covered the surfaces of everything in sight. It came down like there was no tomorrow.

            “Are we really going to be stuck here for the day?” I asked in a tired, wearisome voice.

            “Ha, more like for the next week,” Tony stared outside the hotel window. “There is no way we are going to get out of here.”

            “Well, it’s kind of starting to stop now,” our bass player, Ian, remarked as he retrieved a bottle of water from his bag. He was always the most logical and sensible out of all of us; he was that one guy that knew exactly what to do in a sticky situation.

            A few minutes passed by and I slowly found myself getting bored with checking my phone. “I’m gonna head out,” I grabbed my jacket off the back of bed post I’d hung it off of and put it on. I threw on my disguise to complete the look.

            “And where are you going to go?” Jason looked amused.

            I shrugged. “Wherever I wish,” I adjusted my beanie and slipped on my glasses and walked over to the mirror.

            “You’re crazy,” our tour manager, Chase, stated as if it was completely normal.

            I took off my glasses and somehow managed to put in my color contacts despite them being so dry and irritated from the cold.

            “Is the snow even cleared from the street?” my band-mates wouldn’t stop interrogating me with questions.

            After taking a peek from our window, I said, “Yeah, there isn’t much snow on the sidewalk, at least.”

            “Yeah, but there’s probably ice. You never know.” Tony reminded me.

            “Better go find out,” and with my last words, I was out of the room. I needed to get away from reality for a moment. A moment being at least an hour, give or take a few minutes.

            As I made my way downstairs, I noticed the hotel lobby was completely deserted and just as Ian had said earlier, the snow had stopped falling. I was thankful for this because it meant that I was able to go somewhere. The sidewalk was a bit icy, but definitely walkable. After cautiously making my first step and not landing on my ass, I breathed a sigh of relief and continued to make my way down the path.

            Looking to my left, I saw a few of those old antique shops inhabited by elderly shop keepers. I had to admit, those stores were pretty cool. I mean, most of the stuff in there was probably older than me. There was also an ice cream and sandwich shop along with a record store. Immediately drawn to the record store, I sauntered inside and adjusted to the tiny, compact space. It spelled like incense inside and every inch of space was utilized to the fullest, housing what I would guess to be at least a thousand records; pretty remarkable considering the small square-footage. Eric Clapton, Bruce Springsteen, Elvis Costello, and The Beatles were only some of the names that jumped out at me.

            Starting off with the pile of records near the store’s entrance, I sorted through all of the various artists. I literally think I looked through R&B and Hip Hop for fifteen minutes without realizing it. Finally, I found my niche smack-dab in the middle where all the good ole rock/punk records were. Yes, rock and punk are like two completely different things (and I guess it depends who you were to ask) but I equally love both. I felt completely at home with the Blink-182 and Sum 41 vinyl right at my fingertips. When I reached for one in the very back of the stack, my hand was not the only one to grab it.

            A pale, dainty hand touched it at the same time. “Oh, sorry,” a female voice said. I looked over my shoulder and then realized that she was standing right beside me.

            “It’s cool,” I grinned and she laughed, probably having noticed my stupidity.

“So, do you um, want it?” she asked.

This time when I glanced over at her, I saw someone that I knew. It was surely, no it couldn’t be-

“No thanks--“ I trailed off, searching for her name.

“Miranda,” she caught my drift and held out her hand.

“Nate,” I took hers and shook it. I never thought I’d see her again in my life. Sure, it had only been a little less than twenty-four hours but-

“Well, thank you, Nate,” she picked up the record and stared at the cover admiringly.

“You’re welcome,” I replied. “You’re definitely a lot nicer than the first time I met you.”

“What did you say?” she questioned.

Had I really said that out loud? God, I am such an idiot. “Oh, it’s nothing,” I said quickly.

“Right,” she nodded thoughtfully.

“So, wanna grab coffee some time?” I didn’t know what else to say at the moment without making the situation more uncomfortable.

“Easy there, tough guy,” she poked me in the stomach playfully. “I’ve got to run an errand for a friend.”

“Oh-“

“You know what,” she rummaged through her bag and found a piece of scrap paper and a blue ink pen. After scribbling something down on it, she handed it to me. “Here. I normally never ever do this, but-“ she paused. “I told myself I would do something out of my comfort zone every week and this seems like the perfect opportunity,” she finished.

“That’s pretty brave and adventurous,” I remarked.

“Thank you,” she slung her bag over her shoulder and walked over to the register to pay for the record.

“No problem,” I followed her like a little puppy dog.

            “Ten fifty-six is your total,” the lady at the register said.

            After Miranda gave her the money and stuck the record in her bag, we walked outside.

            “I guess this is good-bye,” she smiled at the ground and kicked the tip of her boot at a pile of snow causing half of it to topple over.

            “I hate good-byes,” I admitted.

            “Same,” she agreed. “I better get going,” she turned and started walking.

            I figured I would do the same. I walked very slowly until I heard Miranda yell, “You’re quite a catch, Nate!”

            I stopped in my tracks and carefully whirled around. “So are you!” I shouted back.

            She pointed at me one last time, making me laugh and started to walk in the same direction again.

            Delightfully surprised, I chuckled and watched her walk away. And there she went, ever so gracefully, her hair dancing in the wind and her bag swinging from over her right shoulder. There she went; the girl of my dreams.