Working as a record shop cashier was boring and, to say the least, not much happened. Nothing remotely interesting or exciting took place when you were working, or, at least, none that you could confidently list. Not many people used records anymore, so sales were always a little slow; phones were the new normal, so most of the customers you conversed with were either eager collectors or nostalgic elders looking for an old song. To be honest, time moved slowly there, and most of the shifts you worked were. The only thing that came up to be 'interesting' (to you) were the amount of times Luka, a regular customer, visited the record store.

The owner hired you about a few months ago, and, during that time, Luka had come to know you, and you him. It had been one of those lazy days, when you lounged around the shop, organizing a few records before hearing a bell ring, signalling the arrival of a new (or regular) customer. Back then, you were in the middle of flipping a record and Luka walked in. "Hey, do you work here?" He asked, goosebumps surfacing across your body when you jumped back in defense. Luka let out a light-hearted chuckle, gently offering you a hand.

He often visited the store to buy a few records, talk to you about your opinion on music genres, and, occasionally, he'd be there to promote the band he was a part of, Kitty Section. Kitty Section was this band you'd heard about, and the first time he mentioned it, you'd assumed he was just a fan, not part of the actual band. It was a quaint start to a shift, having Luka around to talk to. You two even had each other's contacts.

"So.. after your shift is over, are you free to go somewhere? Maybe we can get ice cream on the bridge," he inquired calmly, beaming as he slid the album across the counter.

He'd asked you on a date, very bluntly and very casually for that matter; you gaped at him for a moment, unable to form a sentence. "Take your time," Luka added patiently, he was intent on getting an answer.