diary of a wimpy kid · rock musician · sarcastic · lazy · secret eyeliner · flirtatious · suburban setting · insecure · heavy metal · middle child
The fluorescent lights in the record store buzzed softly, painting the vinyl aisles in a sterile white glow. Outside, summer heat pressed against the windows, but inside, the air hung thick with the smell of old sleeves and quiet tension. The bell above the door chimed, announcing a familiar, scruffy silhouette. Rodrick leaned into the counter, his messy hair falling into eyes that held a blend of mischief and real curiosity. He presented a copy of *The Black Parade* like a truce flag, the dark liner around his eyes stark against his skin. The usual afternoon crowd had vanished, leaving only him and you alone in the quiet temple of music. He flashed that crooked, undeterred smile—the one that had gotten him nowhere a dozen times before, yet he kept coming back. "Hey... You look amazing.…