If there was a single place that Abel felt most like himself (outside of performing), it was something as musically pleasing as a record shop. Truth be told, he was shocked to see it still standing, but it wasn’t without the lack of wear. He’d been a regular his whole teenage stretch, buying used records while everyone else wasted their money on booze. It held it’s character well, just as it held every memory he’d ever shared within those freshly painted walls. it was just another spot on Philly’s map that reminded him of her.
Their friendly hangout had been solely his idea. It was a chance to brush over old memories, all while making new ones. The time set meant nothing to him, seeing as he’d arrived almost an hour early with the intention of scanning over the old shop’s collection before they shared a look together. He was impressed by the upkeep of stock, it’s old records mixed with releases giving him hope that stores such as this one could keep going under the digital pressure. Curious and a little too excited, nimble fingers flipped through a box until he landed on a personal favorite; Play Deep, a golden release by The Outfield.
As if on cue, a familiar voice lightly spoke the lyrics to a classic he’d strategically placed the needle on many times, sometimes even multiple times in a row. He remembered the playful annoyance in her voice, begging him not to play it again. “Honestly? I’m impressed,” he admitted, turning to smile down at the female he was trying to play friendly with. If she wanted a friendship, he’d give her that and maybe a little more. “Can’t believe this place is still up and going. They’ve got a pretty nice selection for vinyls to be taking the backseat to phones. It’s so much more authentic than some of the places I went to in Nashville. It’s not filled with brand new releases with shiny cover art. Look at this,” he hummed, holding up the same vinyl she’d joked about. “You wouldn’t find something like this in some of those places. This is music.”
After the final word has left his lips, Abel felt the nerves wash over him. He’d been so caught up in his speech that he hadn’t even noticed the pounding of his heart against his chest and the way it drummed in his temples. Every time felt like the first time and he couldn’t help but wonder if that’d ever change. “It’s good to see you,” he finally complimented, hoping the words wouldn’t cross the line of friendship they’d agreed upon.
A laugh tumbled from Monika’s lips. “Abel Thomas is impressed. What an honor that is for the owners.” Her understanding of music was limited to appreciation, and of industry was even more limited to what she’d heard from Abel in the months since his return to Philadelphia. She understood his inclination for the classics ⏤ both in genre and format ⏤ but couldn’t deny how it made him sound like an old man calling for children to get off his front lawn. “Hey, I’m pretty sure they have your albums kicking around here.” Her smile broadened when he showed her the album again, the strokes of color transporting her back to her teenage years, when they’d lie on the floor in his living room and listen to records. He’d sing and she’d try her best to carry a note. In retrospect, it was one of a few signs back then that he was destined for something more than this city could offer him. But Monika knew that now, just as she’d known it then. She felt herself swell with pride at the thought, a genuine flood of happiness washing over her, for him and for everything he’d accomplished over the years. Making it in music didn’t seem easy, not by a long shot, and he’d gone and proven people wrong on his way to carving out his own audience, releasing hit songs, selling millions of albums.
“It’s good to see you, too. I know you’ve been busy.” She’d been busy too, with end-of-the-year preparations, but it somehow seemed far less hectic compared to his schedule of meetings and songwriting sessions. “So I’m really glad you could fit me into your schedule,” she added with an exaggerated sigh as she flicked through the vinyl in front of her. “What prompted the return to our old stomping grounds? Are you on the hunt for something?”
stormborns
titsay
romaincrisis
blakekathryn
turnnoffyourmind
gummygunk
