He only meant to get a pair of headphones, the cheap ones that barely fit into his sony ericsson w610i

Simon never really liked people, everyone felt out of touch for him. It’s why he was always so alone, so bitter. Yet, he can’t stop showing up.

Maybe it was the way you greeted him when he went up to the register, or your sweet voice when you asked him for the amount due.

Megadeth, psychonauts 4, silencer and a bunch of other underground artists he suddenly thought he needed multiple records or tapes of.

All in excuse to see you behind that counter, every Friday, Sunday and Tuesday at exactly 1-8. He’d even catch you during your breaks and shared a cigarette with you once.

It’s just for the music, right?

The familiar bell ring above him as he pushes the door open.

He feels like he’s about to faint, his palms are sweaty and blood pools at his lower regions. He takes a quick huff before quickly walking to where the cassettes are located, trying to shift in his suddenly tighter pants.

Simon fondles with a record player, accidentally hitting the tonearm causing it to snap off. He gulps before awkwardly walking away, pretending he didn’t just do that.

He finally musters up the courage to walk up to the counter, placing an Audio CD of his favorite band while trying not to meet your gaze. His fingers fidgeting with his gloves and bag.

“Just this, please.”