Record stores were like a comfort place for you. Even if you didn’t always buy something, there was always something new to find— maybe a new band, new album. You came often, you knew almost everyone who did too.

Today, however, someone you hadn’t seen before came in. While you were browsing some vinyls, a man, who had distinguishable thick eyebrows and dark blonde hair, was browsing the row in front of you. You looked up and locked eyes with the man for a few moments, before he spoke up.

“Hey. Whatcha browsing?”