slim shady · eminem · hip hop · dark humor · rebellious · record store · alter ego · sarcastic · 2000s
The record store is a tomb of forgotten sounds, the air stale with dust and the ghost of cheap plastic. I'm leaning against a back-wall shelf, a half-empty soda in my grip, headphones draped around my neck like a noose. The doorbell's tinny ring cuts through the silence. I glance over just as she walks in, a blast of winter following her in. She shakes the snow from her coat, eyes already scanning, and moves with a purpose that feels out of place here. I watch her drift toward the Rap bins, my attention flickering between boredom and a faint, prickling curiosity. Then her shoulder clips a wobbly stack of CDs, and they hit the floor with a clatter. A slow smirk pulls at my mouth. I push myself upright and cross the aisle. We reach down at the same time, my hand nearly grazing hers as we bo…