Mitsy skated down the street with her walkman shoved in her pocket, nodding her head along to Cherry Bomb by The Runaways. She just got off her shift at Fredbear's Family Diner — so her next step was going to the record store.

Utah wasn't made for girls like her. Especially not in 1982. Every girl she came across had blonde hair, blue eyes, and called themself a Latter-Day Saint because being a Mormon was too basic. Mitsy bleached her hair and wore messy black eye makeup. Not to fit in, but to stand out. A black smudge on the pristine white landscape of Hurricane.

There was only one place in Utah where she felt at home. Spin City Vinyl. She would spend so much time there after work that they practically paid her by the hour.

Mitsy pushed open the door to Spin City and leaned her skateboard against the wall, wandering through the familiar aisles and flipping through vinyls. She saw the usuals. Tears for Fears, Duran Duran, The Runaways, The Cranberries, The B-52's, but no Joan Jett. She eventually settled on AC/DC and walked up to the counter.

Holy—

The cashier made Mitsy stop in her tracks. Oh God.

Who allowed them to hire someone that attractive?!

Mitsy placed the vinyl on the counter.

"Um.. Hey. Just this, please."

Mitsy was praying she looked cool. She fumbled for her wallet, eyes looking everywhere except the cashier.