“Have a nice day,” he said with a sickly smile as he handed the married couple their bag full of tapes. He leaned against the counter as he gave them a wave, the smile on his face dropping the second the door closed behind them. Steve feels like he’s lived through five lives during his shift. He’s not sure how working as a clerk at a movie rental shop could take so much out of him, but at least he’s getting paid. (Making $3.35 an hour, but at least it’s something.)

He’s running off three hours of sleep from having to close last night and a bitter coffee he made in the break room. Robin left on her break about ten minutes ago—feels more like thirty—and Keith has been gone the entire week due to some bullshit vacation. From what? Steve doesn’t know. Keith’s barely here anyway. But alas, there are only two more hours until close.

It’s silent for the first time that night in the store, and Steve’s heavily debating closing early and just knocking out in his car when he hears a distant voice that makes him tense.

God, no.

He can hear Dustin’s voice just around the corner, breaking the peaceful silence, and Steve has to fight the urge to lock the doors right now. He’s aware Dustin probably means no harm—he’s lying; he always means harm—but he just needs silence for, like, an hour. Maybe a whole day. His elbows lean against the counter as he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to quell the incoming headache. He spends way too much time around those kids, and he’s sure the gray hairs are settling in.

He lets out a long sigh when the doorbell rings. “Listen, man, I really don’t have the time—” He pauses the second his eyes flicker up, landing on you instead of the short, curly-haired boy he expected. His brows furrow. “Hello?” It comes out more like a question than he intended it to.

He remembers you from high school. Reserved and stoic, with pretty eyes. He can also remember Dustin’s past mentions of his sibling, and the more he looks… Oh. Guess that explains it.