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Morro wasn’t the type to make assumptions. Everybody had their own life, their own issues, goals, wants, and needs; and it wasn’t his business to judge them on anything. He had already lived that life before, being an angry freshmen in college; snapping at professors, fighting with people in the streets. He should be lucky he was only given a handful of warnings, most schools in the area would’ve booted him the second he messed up. The wind elemental knew a thing or two when it came to being a ‘weirdo’ and a ‘freak.’ He promised himself to never make someone else go through that, the way he himself had to.
But.
This case was special.
As much as he tried, he couldn’t keep himself from not staring at the young man currently peering into his record stop. Eyes latched onto the displays, so much so he could see the glass windows fog up from his breath. He grimaced at the sight, turning away to avoid making eye contact with him. Morro tried, he tried so hard not to judge the kid, but he was just so..strange! Unsettling! Everyday, morning, and afternoon, that same teen would walk to his store. Stare into the windows for an hour, never coming inside, and then leave! He’d even pace back and forth before eventually returning back to his original routine.
It was creepy!
He could practically draw the kid from memory with the amount of times he came by. He would always just look, glaring at the records before eventually leaving. This went on for a good week, Morro even questioned if the teen was planning on robbing the store when he wasn’t here late some night, he was worried he’d have to spend this month’s income on security cameras instead of treating himself with a binge watch of NinjaBall Run.
And then, the impossible happened.
The kid walked into the store on a lazy Sunday afternoon.
And immediately left after meeting Morro’s eyes. Freezing up and running out like his life depended on it.
The wind master sat there dumbfounded at what just happened. However, with the short time he was actually inside the store. He was able to get a good look at who this mysterious kid was. Black locs, a shirt with some type of band on it, and ripped jeans. The most notable being the teen’s face, Morro wasn’t one to judge based on appearance, but that kid looked like he’d cry if he accidentally stepped on a worm. He looked like he couldn’t hold a dog, out of fear hurting it by picking it up! This kid wasn’t even the slightest bit threatening to his shop, the sigh of relief the man let out was worth it. Like a stressful weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
And then, the realization settled in for him.
The teen was just shy!
On a heavy level, that is.
With this conclusion, Morro made a plan. He was going to get this kid to come into the store..and do whatever he was planning on doing! One thing he noticed, was that he frequently stopped to look when a ‘Systems Of A Down’ was put in the window then any other record. So he made sure to keep the front doors cracked, with his personal favorite song from them ‘Darts’ playing on full volume. Successfully, the teen stood by the entrance, silently jamming to the music before going on his way. Occasionally, he’d come way early in the morning. Right after Morro opened, backpack hanging off his shoulder; and taking pictures on his phone of the vinyls. He didn’t stop him once, only watching from afar. He’d wait for the mysterious boy to come to him first.
Next, he pulled out any old band T-shirts he still had from his closet. Nirvana, Slipknot, Green Day and even his first Rob Zombie shirt he ever bought! It was honestly nostalgic to go over all the bands he once called his favorite, quietly humming the music in his ears as he went back to listen to them on his way to work. Ignoring the way people sent a glance over when he whispered..certain lyrics. Morro wore every shirt for the next few days; matching the store’s music with the chosen band. The teen spotted each logo he wore, it was obvious with how badly he wanted to run up and ask about it. Holding himself back.
However, there was development. Instead, he finally started coming inside. The wind elemental swore he wasn’t smiling when it happened more and more; hiding his happiness and watching with a warm tint in his eyes as the kid walked down the sides of the store. The walls shelve’s holding records, whilst the boxes out in the middle separated them from type—too artist. Morro thought he was going to explode with how the teen held a ‘Drowning Pool’ album. Carefully watching as he twisted it his hands, glancing back at forth between the man at the counter and to the cover.
And then.
He walked towards the register.
Morro could’ve cried. He doesn’t know why this made him so happy, he didn’t even know the kid! Maybe it was the fact they had similar music taste, yeah, it was definitely that. Totally not how the wind elemental related to before socially awkward, and having a horrible time trying to ask for the things he wanted. He winced at the memories of teachers getting onto him for never speaking up in class.
“Will that be all?” He asked in his customer service friendly voice.
“Mm..” The teen glanced down at his phone; before bringing it up for Morro to see. On the screen was a searched up image of ‘The Runaways’ album. “Do you..uh—have this?” His voice was quiet, but loud enough for the other to hear. The wind master tapped at his chin, pondering..there hadn’t been any shipments lately—which meant most likely he wouldn’t get any fresh ones until his suppliers decide to send them over. A sudden pang of worry hit him, he couldn’t just not let the kid go without getting the record he so deserves after gaining the confidence to buy something. An idea forming in his head.
“Sorry, kid. I don’t..”
The teen looked heart broken.
“But..”
He perked up.
“I could order one for you, what album is that?” Morro said; already turning to the computer on the side of the register. Typing into the keyboard as the other in front of him sat there jaw dropped. Shaking himself out of his shocked state and quickly fumbling open his phone for the image. Reading it off in a embarrassing stutter. “Queens Of Noise, 1977!”
It came up immediately, and with a few minutes of silence, a few hundred bucks down the drain. It was ordered, set to arrive in just two days, how lucky. Morro always hated how expensive old albums were, but then again he was a collector of them, so really where was he too complain?
“And the name for this order?”
“Cole..Cole Brookstone?”
“Well, Cole..want some recommendations? I think I got some that’d be right up your alley.”
That is how the wind elemental found himself before opening every Saturday, the teen would come by almost all the time; helping him open up shop. Morro was a little caught off guard by just the amount of strength he had, for a high schooler he would’ve expected him to barely be able to lift a box, no offense to him.
Cole gradually opened up more, finding himself more comfortable around the man. The small talk and listening to music, turning to full on chats about bands, and even upcoming concerts. Morro would never admit it, but it was nice talking to someone who shared the same taste as him. Surprisingly, the teen even made his own remixes and mixtapes. The wind master let him ramble on and on, even using his old boombox in the back to play a few songs out front; seeing Cole became routine. One that Morro hopes never stops.
And if he slipped concerts tickets in the kid’s bag, then that was his little secret.