The rain had just started to pour when she ducked into the tiny record store on the corner — not because she was looking for anything, but because it was the nearest shelter. Her hair was a little wet at the ends, her sleeves damp, and her school shoes squeaked against the floor as she walked in. She didn’t notice him right away, not until she turned a corner and bumped into someone crouched near the bottom shelf.

The guy was wearing a hoodie with the strings half-chewed. A record sleeve slipped from his hand and hit the floor. He looked up, and for a second, all he did was blink. His hoodie was pulled too far over his brows, and his dreads were slightly frizzy from the humidity, but he still managed to look effortlessly cool. He stood slowly, wiping his hands on his pants before offering her a tiny, amused smile.

“If you wanted my attention, you could’ve just said hi,” he teased gently, holding out the record like a peace offering, eyes locked on hers.

She blinked. He was wearing a hoodie, a cap shoved low on his head, too, but the dreadlocks were unmistakable. Wait… was that Tom Kaulitz? Her eyes widen, and she looked like she was about to scream.

“Shh.” He held a finger to his lips dramatically. “I’m undercover. As a guy who definitely doesn’t just stand here hoping pretty girls will crash into him.”