Chapter Text
Matt Bellamy looked up from his book at the sound of the door chime, signalling that yet another customer had come and left the store without buying anything. He sighed, and folded the corner of the page he was looking at, placing it neatly on the ever-growing pile of books that he planned to take home after his shift. He adjusted the glasses sitting on his face, downing the rest of the leftover tea from the evening and placing the empty cup on the counter with a quiet thunk.
There had been a sharp decline in new customers, all thanks to the new and shiny movie theatre that had moved in down the street just a few weeks earlier. It seemed that more and more people these days were exclusively interested in knowledge they can access without having to lift a finger. The sacred word of text had begun to be replaced by cheesy movies about nothing in particular, much to the dismay of Matt and his plethora of novels overflowing the shelves and tables in his tiny flat. His firm belief in the practicality and art of books was often lost on his peers, so his friends consisted mostly of the old owners of the quaint little shop on Lake-front Avenue (in which of a body of water was absent for several dozen miles), and his neighbour Janice, who could scarcely remember to feed her herd of cats. He often had to come over, to help her out with odd chores, but her caring personality and steady supply of home-made scones made up for it.
A quick glance at the ancient grandfather clock in the dim lighting of the corner told him he had another half an hour until he would be closing up the shop for the night. These days, his shifts were getting longer and more frequent, because many people had jumped at the chance to work in a new shiny theatre with promises of free movies and discount popcorn. Secretly, he envied his past co-workers who had managed to get under the theatre manager’s good graces, because he knew it would only be a matter of months before he would have to find a new job, this store being lost to the mass gentrification of his hometown.
Matt wandered over to the display shelves in the front window, minding his head on the low-hanging light fixtures and stumbling through the dim, narrow aisles of wooden bookshelves lining the interior of the store. He stopped along the way to rearrange some misplaced novels that had somehow ended up in different ends of the store. Upon closer inspection, he realized that some numbnut had toppled over a few book stands in a mad rush to grab the newest copy of some cheesy self-help book. He rolled his eyes and started to carefully rearrange the clutter, muttering softly about the kinds of people that would be so desperate for a wildly unoriginal book on personal aid.
Just as he was straightening out the last few novels, he spotted a figure through the window, standing on the pavement about ten feet away from the entrance of the store. Whoever it was, was leaning heavily on the payphone booth in the deluge of rain they were going to be receiving for the next few days. Matt shook his head and tried to go back to his task at hand, but he couldn’t help but put his face up to the glass, wiping it down with his sleeve as his breath fogged it up. This person was obviously having a lively conversation, animatedly talking with their hands to whoever was on the other line, occasionally laughing loud enough that Matt could make out that it was a man who was loitering outside the store. He found it odd that someone would be out yelling at 11:30pm on a Tuesday, but considering the sheer amount of interesting characters and drug-related crime in the quaint little town, he wasn’t too surprised to find someone behaving in a perhaps inebriated state. Just as whoever it was gave a loud giggle, Matt heard the shuffling on feet from the back of the store.
He quickly turned away from the window, tripping over a small pile of books before making his way to the counter where he was supposed to be stationed at. Just as Matt closed the employee gate, the old man who owned the building came out of his office, yawning and scratching the back of his neck. He had obviously been napping on his desk, as he often did, his sparse grey hair sticking up in a multitude of directions like a sea urchin.
“Now then,” grumbled the sleepy man.
“I’m all done in there, so uh, i’ll be heading home. I assume you can manage to close up by yourself, so I’ll leave the keys by the light switch.”
The man coughed and continued to speak as he sauntered down to aisles and out of sight towards the back exit.
“Oh! And also, there’s a book signing early tomorrow, so make sure the foyer is clear for the lads to set-up.” Matt cursed under is breath, before responding.
“Will do, sir, see you tomorrow” Matt chirped.
“Don’t stay too late!” The back door creaked open and closed, and Matt let down a long breath. It would take at least another hour or so to finish clearing out the front of the store, so he waved good-bye to the bright lights of the takeout restaurant across the street he was planning to get dinner at and began the long process of re-shelving books, and heaving too heavy shelves to the back.
He was about half-way through sorting the last shelf, when he heard the door chime at the entrance of the store. He spouted out a quick greeting, realizing that it was a customer who had just walked in the store and behind a half-empty shelf. He looked at the clock in the corner. It read 11:56, almost closing time. Matt continued sorting and quietly hoped that whoever it was would just get something and leave, because he really wasn’t looking forward to having to shoo them out of the store at 12am Just then, Matt heard the unmistakeable sound of wet shoes squeaking across the hardwood floor, no doubt leaving little puddles of mud and rainwater through the maze of books this person decided to travel at midnight.
Matt pinched his nose, already dreading having to clean up the mess this person was tracking down the aisles. He quickly walked to where he last heard the stranger walking, but all he saw was an empty aisle. Puzzled, he looked in a few of the other aisles, but there was no one to be seen. After peering down each of the aisles, he finally turned the corner of the World History section at the far side of the store, only to stop in his tracks at the sight in front of him. A trail of water and muddy footprints led to what he assumed was once a pair of white sneakers caked with mud, abandoned in the middle of the aisle. Now this was new. He gulped, the sound seeming unnervingly loud in the now-silent store.
“H-Hello?” Matt whispered into the empty aisle. His eyes darted around, searching for the culprit of the mess on the floor, but the sneaker-wearer was out of sight, and no matter how much Matt strained his ears, he could no longer hear footsteps on the creaky floor. All he could hear was his own heartbeat, thrumming through his ears. It had started to pick up at the thought of some weirdo looking to possibly rob the store, or worse, Mathew. He took a deep breath and gathered his courage before saying, this time a little louder:
“Hello?”
“Hello!” Matt whipped around, a shrill scream erupting from his mouth as the voice right behind him, presented some sketchy bloke in a trench coat, a book in hand. In a fit of fear and adrenaline, Matt, without looking twice, punched the intruder square in the nose, a loud smack sounding at the impact with his face.
“Ow!” the man stumbled backwards, clutching his nose as the the book tumbled from his hands and onto the floor. Now that Matt had a chance to look, he quickly discovered that this was not a criminal, and instead was some skinny blonde bloke, clothes darkened from the water, sporting bright green socks. Just as the dread of what he had just done started to settle in his stomach, the man stared to yell.
“What the fuck?!“ Matt brought a hand to his mouth, mortified of what he had just done.
“Oh my god! I-I’m so sorry-“ The man leaned against the bookshelf, his eyes squeezed shut, emitting groans of pain.
“I was just looking for a book man, chill out!”
“I didn’t know- I’m so sorry...are you okay? ...oh shit, you’re bleeding!
Little drops of blood were starting to drip onto the floor and on the man’s socks from behind his hand, which was still clutching his nose. Matt, on the verge of throwing up in embarrassment, grabbed some tissues from his pocket, shoving them into the man’s free hand with a string of apologies and curses aimed at himself.
“It’s just that it’s almost closing time, and I didn’t expect anyone to come in so I thought you were trying to rob me-“
“Well, rest assured. I’m not going to rob you, at least not with this nose. Jesus, are you a bloody boxer or something? This really hurts.”
“Here, let’s get you something for your nose.” Matt grabbed the man by the arm praying to whatever god might be out there that he hadn’t broken this poor man’s nose, and that he wouldn’t sue the store for having violent employees.
This was going to be a long night.