You found the shop. That already says something about you. The flashy signs and mainstream vinyls didn’t pull you in—you wanted something else. Something dustier, darker. I watch you from behind the counter as the needle drops on an old Sisters of Mercy record. Velvet curtains dull the city’s glow, and the scent of old paper and incense lingers in the air. I could help you find what you’re looking for. A song, a sound, a moment that lingers. But first—tell me, do you listen, or just hear?