dottiesxdreams:
@reedxruiz
Evenings at Fidelity were particularly slow. The midday rush had long passed, as did the sun over the Brooklyn skyline which in no time, was replaced by the glow of a humble crescent moon. Dorothy still wasn’t quite sure why they stayed open so late, but Rob insisted, and after a few years of working at the record store she knew not to question certain rules. The industrious blonde had already gotten the last of her closing tasks out of the way, it was never anything too demanding (tidying up, alphabetizing records, etcetera), and now all that was left to do was to lock up. Dottie took a brief moment to glance at her watch, whose fluorescent hands alerted her that she’d be captive for another hour and a half. Dot couldn’t fight the frustrated exhale from escaping as she cracked open one of the worn magazines on the counter, “Punk 365” and skimmed through the pages the best she could with the New York Dolls self titled album blasting throughout the store. Rob would definitely lecture her for tinkering with the playlist in the morning.
Dorothy wasn’t quite sure how many times she had reread the same sentence when the jolt of the shopkeeper’s bells stole her attention away from the text. “Welcome to Fidelity, we’re twenty minutes to closing but feel free to ask for––“ Her brows furrowed for a moment in thought before she realized that the customer she had been shouting over the music at, was Reed–– a familiar face (and a handsome one at that) who was paired up with her for the speed social a few days prior. “Oh, it’s you!”
If Reed was honest, he never really had all that much going on. He had boxing, sure, that took up his mornings for training and a few nights a week for matches. Dealing, too. Which, admittedly, took up way less of his time. Otherwise he coasted the humble life of unemployment, the occasional (fake) tear-filled phone call to his parents enough to keep him coasting. It was admittedly a rather boring existence most days, but he was always one to find a way to spice it up. He’d signed himself up for some speed social, whatever that was, in attempt to seek out who he hoped were some of the cool people in this city. Everyone seemed just fine, but one blonde stuck out in his mind. He’d been wandering around the city out of sheer boredom when he spotted Fidelity, hadn’t she said she worked in a record shop? It was worth a shot.
He ducked into the shop, grinning as he spotted exactly who he was looking for behind the counter. He approached with a small shrug of his shoulders, elbows resting on the counter as he gently plucked the magazine out of her hands, “It’s me. At risk of sounding like a total stalker, I remembered that you worked here, and figured I’d pop in to say hello.”
