Chapter Text
Outside, the rain showed no sign of slowing down on a cold November afternoon in Portsmouth, New Hampshire. The weather had just started its late Autumn transition only a week ago, and already it was impossible to recall the beautiful array of fiery leaves that lined the hills and highways and what the sky looked like in other tone aside gray. Deep puddles hard started to form among the cobblestone streets and the back alley sidewalks that were less cared for than the ones in front of the high end boutique shops. It was just Finn Balor’s luck that he had elected to search for some record store off of the beaten path today, when New England weather was at its finest, but with mid-terms approaching and more students than usual needing a sympathetic body to breakdown in front of, he didn’t have much time to get out lately.
“These reviews had better be accurate,” he grumbled to himself as he felt water starting to seep into his trainers. Maybe it would have been easier to stick with the place that he had started shopping at when he first moved here, but the owner had been such an insufferable elitist jerk, and several times had even gone so far as to openly mock Finn’s purchases, so he didn’t really have much desire to give his patronage to someone so obviously miserable. Such poor business practices certainly weren’t advised in a day and age when finding an alternative was as easy as having good cellphone reception, and that’s exactly what Finn had done, but now he was soaking wet in some random alley, spurred on by reviews from strangers on the internet that promised that the place he was looking for was unquestionably best in the area; however, it could also be argued that it was poor business practice to own a business that couldn’t be located. Finally, after what felt like a lifetime in a concrete labyrinth, he found a sign dangling above a heavy-looking door for New, Xchange, and Trade Records. Why on earth was it called that? Weren’t “exchange” and “trade” the same things?
A short hallway practically wallpapered with posters and stickers for local areas bands and shows lead into the main store, which was warm and dry, and the smell of cardboard and plastic wrap was both comforting and inviting. While the square footage wasn’t particularly impressive, the use of vertical space made up for it, with a few step ladders dispensed throughout the floor in a similar fashion to that of a library. Shockingly, it lacked the distinct scent of mold, but when Finn spotted a large dehumidifier in the corner humming away, he had to admit to himself that he was a little impressed.
“Hi there!” Called out an amicable voice from off to the side, and Finn turned his head to acknowledge it. From behind a glass display counter, a friendly looking bearded man smiled and waved, and Finn waved back. “How’s it going?”
“It goes. Yourself?” Finn responded, not exactly in the mood for small talk, but the general disposition of this employee seemed so pleasant that he didn’t mind, either.
“I’m doing well! Let me know if you need help finding anything, OK?”
“You got it, mate.” Finn nodded, then turned his attention to the merchandise as the other man busied himself with a turntable behind the counter, and a short while later the unmistakeable heavy bass guitar and aggressive vocals of a punk album started to play through the store’s PA. There was quite the massive collection of albums from local area talent, with a few zines scattered around for good measure, but Finn’s interest was drawn to the more niche genres and he was blown away by the immense amount of EDM and hip hop records, and the equally impressive amount of rare Bootlegs. As he thumbed through the trip-hop section, something quite unbelievable caught his attention: a double vinyl of Sneaker Pimps’ ‘Bloodsport’ album, for far less than the market value price. A quick check of his bank account balance from his phone assured Finn that he could afford it, and he carried his treasure with him up to the register.
“Find everything OK?” the employee asked, then looked down at the merchandise and whistled. “Oh man, isn’t this sweet? It’s red vinyl, too. Not as rare as the white one that I’ve heard about, but it’s still so rad.”
“Yeah, I was shocked to see it. Is this the right price?” Finn inquired, uncertain if he just shot himself in the foot over such a bargain.
“Sure is.” He punched a few keys into the register, and while still looking at the monitor, asked, “So where are you from?”
“Hm?” Finn responded as he pulled his wallet out, and when he looked up to hand over his credit card, he was greeted by another friendly smile.
“Your accent. I take it that you’re not from New England.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m from Ireland, actually. Migrated here for a teaching gig.”
“Ah, that’s cool. What do you teach?” He took the credit card and swiped it.
“Illustration and fine art for now.”
“Oh, you’re an artist?” He handed back the credit card and waited for the receipt to print out. “I’m Sami, by the way. I own this place.”
“Yeah, just finished my graduate program, so this is the next step on my journey.” Finn took the merchant’s copy of the receipt and a pen to sign his name. “I’m Finn. Wonderful shop you’ve got. Not sure how you make money selling vinyls at that cost, though.”
“Hey, just because I don’t price gouge doesn’t mean I’m gonna go bankrupt. Record collecting’s an addictive and expensive enough hobby as it is, why contribute to something bad that oughta be fun and accessible?”
“That’s awfully generous for a business owner.”
“It gets people to spend money though, doesn’t it? You just gave me $180 for this little gem, after all.”
“Clever.” Finn smirked, unable to come up with a better retort, and awaited for Sami to hand over the bag with his new purchase. When it was finally in his position, he noticed that it had been bagged several times and looked back up at Sami.
“It’s wet out there, don’t want to risk any damage.” Sami beamed, as though he was the sun itself on this grey and miserable day. “By the way, if there’s anything that you’re ever looking for, let me know and I’ll see if I can get ahold of it for you.”
“Thanks, mate. Can’t think of anything right now, but I’ll hit you up when I do.”
“Sounds good. Take care, Finn.”
“You too, Sami.”
Finn shoved his purchase underneath his coat before venturing back outside, where the weather was far less welcoming, and managed to find his way back to the main street, where he saw a huge window display for Sami’s record shop and realized that he had gone the long way around and could have avoided all of that time spent trying to locate it. Soaked clothing aside, it had absolutely been worth the trip, and his brief interaction with Sami was much nicer than almost every other person he had dealt with during his stay in New England so far. When he got back to his apartment, his opened the plastic off of the record and popped in onto his turntable, then fired up his laptop, opened a bottle of merlot, and wrote a lengthy positive review about his experience on Yelp.
Since the computer lab aide had caught some nasty illness, Finn had been volunteered by the department head to stay after class and help students with their final assignments. The few scraps of peace that he'd have from someone's venting or nervous breakdown, he'd quickly jot down different albums that Sami could possibly locate for him. A lot of the stuff that came to mind were out of print and not exactly something that he had actively sought out, and realistically he didn’t need a copy of The Crystal Method’s ‘Vegas’ LP, but he had every intent on putting the friendly record store owner to the test.
A Google search of when the store closed and a glance on the clock confirmed that Finn that he wouldn’t have time to head down today, and he sighed. It didn’t matter when he ran the list over to Sami, but an escape from the stress and negativity of the lab would have been welcome. To make matters worse, he still had a stack of assignments to go over from the History of Graphic Design students that the professor had pawned off on him, so it was likely that he’d have to pull an all-nighter. Thank goodness the cafe that he lived above stayed open late during finals, as he wasn’t quite ready to go home, either.
Once the lab was finally cleared out and Finn had locked up, he loaded everything into his satchel, retrieved his bike, and pedalled towards downtown. He didn’t have classes until 10:00am the next morning, so if he took a shower after his visit to the cafe and skipped jogging tomorrow as well, he could realistically stay up until maybe 3:30am and still be somewhat functional when he woke. As the soft glow of the cafe came into view, he pumped the brakes and pulled over, then lifted the bike and brought it up the stairwell that lead to his apartment. Once it sat securely in the entryway of his kitchen, he bounded down the stairs and pushed open the door of the little shop, greeted by the heavenly aroma of coffee. Finn’s favorite barista was behind the counter, a friendly brunette that kept her hair up in a side ponytail, and she double-checked to make sure that he wanted his usual before she prepared it.
“Bayley, could I trouble you for an extra shot of espresso?” Finn asked as she rung him out.
“Of course! Late night, huh?” She took his cash, “forgetting” to charge the $1 for the espresso, which he gladly added to his already generous tip.
“Unfortunately. Suppose it’s something I should be getting used to, though.” Finn tried to keep his voice unbeat as Bayley frowned at him, unused to seeing her in anything other than a cheerful state.
“Still sucks!” She called behind her shoulder as she prepared his beverage and handed it over. “Alright, get to work, mister! Don’t let me distract you.”
“Aye captain.” Finn saluted and Bayley giggled, before he retreated to the small corner table that was thankfully vacant. Papers were unloaded and he spread them out, along with a ledger, a pencil, and a pen. He unfolded his reading glasses and put them over the bridge of his nose, then propped an elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm as he read over the first test. Of course there was an essay portion as well. Goddammit.
The chiming of the bell hung over the doorway had gone off several times, but beyond that and the inoffensive acoustic guitar reworkings of classic rock songs that played over the PA, it was relatively quiet. So far, Finn had knocked out 7 of the 20 papers that he had to grade, and wondered if he should get up and stretch for a bit.
“SAMI! What can I get for you tonight?” Bayley’s voice rang out through the tranquility, and Finn’s head shot up. It couldn’t be.
“Hi Bayley! Can I just get a masala latte?” the patron happily responded, and Finn craned his neck and started to stand to get a better look around the corner. From where he was, he could see the back of Bayley’s head, and across the counter someone with red hair and a flat cap. It was definitely Sami. Finn tried to avoid creeping, but he smiled as he heard Bayley goad Sami into also purchasing a slice of lemon poundcake, which she offered at a hefty discount and therefore was an irresistible deal.
“So, you here all by yourself tonight?” Sami asked before he took a bite, and immediately Finn sat back down, burying his face in another assignment.
“Nah, the upstairs neighbor is hanging out tonight.” Bayley hitched a thumb over her shoulder, and Sami peaked around the corner of the counter to follow where she the direction that she was indicating. Against better judgement, Finn raised his head just high enough to confirm that he was being looked at, and sure enough he and Sami made eye contact. He had been spotted, and the wide grin on Sami’s face most likely meant that he had been recognized.
“What’s going on, professor?” Sami greeted as he sauntered over to Finn’s table.
“Hi Sami.” Finn waved.
“It’s Finn, right?” Sami suddenly looked guilty, worry obvious on his face over something as simple as potentially forgetting someone’s name.
“It is.” Finn smiled. “How goes it at the shop?”
“Oh, it goes. I’m working on inventory right now, so I gotta burn that midnight oil.” Sami appeared as though he was about to say more, but then looked at the stacks of paper on the table. “Shoot, I’m sorry! Am I interrupting you?”
“Ah.” Finn looked down, then back up at Sami’s face. “You know, I was just about to take a break, anyway. Would you like to join me?”
“Sure!” Sami grinned and took a seat, and Finn felt himself involuntarily grinning back at him. The papers were cleared away and Finn found that small talk with Sami wasn’t awkward or forced. They discussed where they had moved from and why, Sami explained that years ago he had been in a band with his best friend, clarifying several times over that is was his former best friend, and were travelling around finding minor success and gaining traction, but just as they were about to get their big break the former friend elected that it was time to break things off.
“It was a really ugly period of time.” Sami laughed.
“So how’d you end up with a record store?”
“A series of fortunate circumstances.” A bite was taken from the poundcake, and Sami offered a piece to Finn; at first he declined, but Sami insisted that it was really good and broke off a portion for him, and Finn couldn’t say no to his acquaintance’s earnestness. “A few years back at our last show, the previous owner of the record store was there and approached me after to pay a compliment. I sorta vented about how broke I was and how my bandmate had blown it and that I was gonna have to live in the van, and he offered me a job to get back on my feet. Well, he later ended up marrying into money and taking a job with with his wife’s family’s business, so he offered to sell the shop to me instead of closing it.”
“That is fortunate.” Finn agreed, Sami’s enthusiasm so tangible and refreshing. They conversed for a while longer, about the local music scene and eventually Sami asked about the Venom tattoo on Finn’s upper forearm, which lead to the topic of comics and general nerdiness, and a confession that made Finn laugh. “Archie? Really?”
“Well yeah! I dunno, my mom didn’t want me reading Marvel and DC comics when I was a kid because she thought that they were too violent, so I had to sneak them in my bedroom and hide them from her. But she’d always pick up an issue of Archie for me at the grocery store every week, and I still read it. It’s very socially progressive, y’know.”
“So I’ve heard.” Finn giggled at Sami’s defence of his beloved series. “Y’know, you sorta resemble an Archie character a tad.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sami raised an eyebrow.
“Your hat. The red hair. Your friendly disposition. You’d probably fit right in at Riverdale.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Sami smiled, his eyes so bright. It was hard not to smile along when he did.
“Hey boys, I’m closing up shop in a bit. Gonna have you kick you out. You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here, etcetera,” Bayley announced from the other side of the cafe as she wiped down tables.
“What time is it?” Finn asked as he glanced at his phone, and saw that it was almost midnight. “How did two hours go by?!”
“Well, I should probably get back to inventory.” Sami stood up and stretched as Finn gathered the remainder of his tools and packed them in his satchel. “Sorry about distracting you, though.”
“No, it’s quite fine. It’s nice to talk to someone that for once isn’t a student on the verge of a crisis or a burnt out faculty member.”
“I gotta imagine that this time of year’s rough.” Sami picked up his own cup and then took Finn’s, as the beverage had been finished over an hour ago, then placed them on the counter for Bayley to collect.
“Oh, you didn’t have to-”
“No worries.”
As Bayley shooed them away and locked the door, they stood out on the sidewalk, the chill in the air causing Sami to zip his coat up.
“So you live upstairs, huh?” Sami asked, eyes cast upwards.
“I do. It’s quite convenient to not have to make my own coffee in the morning, saves me an extra step.”
“I’m jealous. Must smell wonderful.”
“Mhm.” Finn nodded, and there was a moment of awkward silence.
“Well, I’ll see you around?” Sami asked, and Finn could have sworn there was a hint of hopefulness in it.
“Yeah. Actually.” Finn reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper, then handed it to Sami.
“What’s this?” Sami turned it over, and then unfolded it.
“You told me if I could think of anything to let you know, and I came up with a few things that I’ve been looking for.”
“Oh yeah, I’d be happy to! I’ll have my guy get right on it.”
“Great, thank you.”
“Can I have your number?”
“My...number?” Finn swallowed.
“Yeah, so I can call you if they come in?”
“Right, yes. Let me get a pen and-” Finn started to pat himself down, trying to remember where he placed it. “Aw man, I think I left it in the cafe.”
“I mean, I can just put it in my phone if that’d be easier.”
“Oh. I guess? That makes sense.” Finn watched as Sami pulled his phone out, then he relayed his phone number to him.
“Alright, should take a few days to get an answer. I’ll call you as soon as I know.”
“Thanks Sami.”
“You got it. Have a good night!”
“You too!”
Finn turned and walked up the steps that lead to his front door. After he got inside, he moved to the bay window and looked out it, just catching sight of Sami before he had vanished into the night.