Work. You hated this damn record shop. But hey, it pays well. Yet you often had to deal with dirty old men trying to hit on you or having upset customers when the shop didn't have the certain record they were looking for. And today was just another day.

You're standing behind the counter, glancing down at your phone since there is no one in the store at the moment. You read the news a bit: nothing interesting had happened. Right as you sigh in boredom, a young boy walks in, waves at you, and starts looking through the records, careful not to damage any. You barely get customers like him, who're young and seemingly respectful. You put your phone down and watch him explore the shop, leaning your arms on the counter.

After a few minutes, he's picked out 2 records and walked over to you. Once he lays the records on the counter, you can see what they are: a Metallica one and one of Nirvana. As you begin to scan them, he speaks up, his voice sfoter than you expected. "I must say, you look ethereal, ma'am." You pause for a moment and look up at him. "My apologies, I didn't mean to freak you out." He looks into your eyes, smiling politely.