the record store; iii; gabrielle aplin.

[dedicated to cavalieryouths, my wonderful friend who always changes her username to words i have to think about the spelling of: that's this one, and the paper towns reference on your other account. i hope you have an excellent year x]

"Yes." He said to me. "I'm guessing you play something along the lines of a musical instrument, seeing as you're here, too."

I shook my head. "Nope." I said back, popping the 'p' at the end.

He stood there for a little while, unsure of what to say back. His guitar was resting between the floor and his left hand, and his right remained in his pocket. I stood with my left leg crossed over my right: the position that I always unintentionally took when I was unaware of what to do next, or when I was partaking in something of an awkward silence.

"Been keeping well?" He asked. It was obviously a filler question.

"Yeah." I said. I wasn't exactly making the conversation easy for him, but I really had no idea what to do. "You?"

"As good as it gets when all you're doing is stacking CD's all day."

I guessed it was a little bit of a tedious job, no matter how much you liked music, or stacking CD's, for that matter. I changed my position into something a little more comfortable, and waited for him to say something else, or me to step forward and play a part in the conversation, instead of just a few small words.

"So." He said, saving me from asking something I'd probably be too embarrassed to remember later. "Did you come here for any reason tonight? Wait." He paused. "I didn't mean it to come across as rude. Sorry."

"No problem about the phrasing thingy." I thought in my head, I couldn't have thought of a better way to phrase it. "And I don't really know why I'm here, I guess I just came." It was part of the truth, at least.

"Nice." He said. "Now I know one more thing about you."

"What exactly do you know about me?" I questioned, I was a little puzzled.

"You're Hollie, and you enjoy making random appearances at open mic nights." He smiled.

"I think..." I paused. "...that is the best description that anyone had ever given of me."

"I think you're a little more interesting than that." He said, and I shrugged my shoulders.

At this point, most of the people around us had cleared out, and people with clip-on name cards were removing speakers and untangling wires. I took my scarf from my arm and placed it around my neck. I guess it was half of an 'I actually can't be bothered to carry it', and half a subliminal message of 'I really don't want to be the last person left in here'.

Luckily, or unluckily, Davie took it as the second.

"Did you walk here?" He said as we walked out.

"Yeah." I said. "Probably going to call for a cab or something, for the way back."

"Walking's always an option." He said. "I'll walk you home."

"I'll let you know one thing about me. Actually, two more." I said. "I hate walking, and I live about two miles away. And it's pitch black outside."

"I'll give you a piggyback or something?" He questioned. I nodded, he seemed like he wouldn't leave the matter unless I agreed. "I can find more out about you, then."

"There's still a chance of me backing out of this, remember."

"Sure." He said, as we stepped outside, and I put my coat on, as he put his guitar, which he'd already placed into it's case, on his back.

Even at the hour of eleven at night, the streets were still reasonably full. People were walking about with dogs, and the occasional businessman walked past, brushing us with his briefcase. It was a little weird, but it was a Friday night, so I guess it was a little normal too.

"Questions now." He said. "I'm going first."

"Okay." I said. "Not too many though." I didn't want to be caught in heavy conversation. "And I want to ask you some, too?"

"How old are you?" He went straight for it.

It took me a minute to actually remember my age before I said it. "Sixteen, seventeen in a few months." I paused, but spoke quickly again. "You?"

"Seventeen." He said. "Now my go. Favourite lyric of a song?"

"Ugh." I said. "You have to pull out a 'favourite' question, didn't you. Couldn't you have just asked me where I go to school, or something?"

"Okay then. That too."

"Bridgewater." I said, hoping he'd know where it was. "I don't think I've seen you around?"

"Because I don't go there. Home-school." He stated. I'd never really met anyone who got taught at home, it was a little... different? "Answer the lyric question?"

"I honestly don't know." I said, honestly. It'd be a question that I'd have to think months on.

"Give me an 'until then' answer, then." He was persistent, I'd give him that.

"I came in like a wrecking ball." I said, jokingly.

"Okay, okay." He was laughing. "I'll change the subject."

"Thank god." I said a little too loudly. "It's like a job interview." It was.

"You do know how to make a guy feel good." He stopped walking. "Wait, where the hell are we?"

"Ever the polite guy." I said back, joking again. "And near my house. Look around, you should know where you are."

He looked around, taking in his surroundings, before carrying on walking. It was a little misty: the fog and the dark both equally not helping to quickly give away the location we were standing in, which I guess wasn't really helping him when it came to distinquishing any stand-out features of the street.

But even if he didn't know where he was, I guess he hid it well.

"So." He said to me. "Which one's yours?" He looked at the row of houses that was now in front of us.

"Neither. None." I said. I was telling the truth. It was a pretty big housing park, one built in the nineties, or so I was told, in the hope of bringing in rich business owners into one of the many houses. Of course, none of them wanted to live in a neighbourhood which had little other than an corner shop within half a mile of it, so they dropped quite a bit. It was a pretty nice place though, even if I did have to walk for about a mile to reach anything like civilisation.

"So it's pretty big then, this place." I nodded as he spoke. "Never really been here before."

"I guess you wouldn't have unless walking round houses is your hobby."

"You're really sarcastic." He was stating the obvious now.

"Aha, you caught me out." I said. "They say sarcasm is the highest form of wit."

"And you're wrong there, Hollie." He said. "But it is nice to dream, I guess."

"Hey!" I said, pushing into his side. He carefully dodged the bin he was going to fall into.

He steadied himself back onto his feet. "You're pretty strong."

"I practice in case I get pursued by strange guys who stack CD's for a living."

By this point, we were pretty close to where our conversation would end, my house. It was still pretty well lit, the fluorescent streetlights scaring off any kind of nocturnal creature for at least the next few hours. It was the kind of light that would leave you squinting when you walked under it, so I carefully tried to avoid them as I walked past.

Davie, although unknown to where he was going, was still talking the lead. He was about three or four paces in front of me, occasionally looking back to see if I was still behind him, and asking me if I wanted to slow down. I was probably going to have to catch up sooner or later, because I didn't really have the loud kind of voice to tell him he was going down the wrong street.

"Hey." I said as I caught up with him. "Is that yours back there." I pointed to a guitar pick.

He put his hand in his trouser pocket and pulled it out. I picked it up and he looked at it, and nodded. "That's mine, definitely. It was the good luck charm that didn't make me mess up on stage tonight." But it was still in my hand as we carried on walking.

"Don't you want it?" I asked.

"You can keep it." He said. I looked a little puzzled, and he obviously saw me. "I've seen chick flicks. Some girls like souvenirs, or something like that-" He cut himself off. "God, I don't know how to explain it."

"So." I said. "I'm 'some girls'."

"You know what stood out to me when I first met you?" He asked me. I shook my head. "Most people who walk into the shop, I can guess where they'll go. Which genre, I mean. But you, you surprised me."

"Why" I asked. "Because you." He said. "You walked in with a Fall Out Boy shirt on, and went straight for the classical section."

And in that moment, I'm almost completely sure that by saying that statement, that was the reason that made me sure that I wanted to see him again.

- - -

[ a pretty overdue chapter, i guess. but it came, and i'm not 100% sure that i like it, but i guess we'll just roll with it. school is back for me, so i guess i'll just have to be working super hard to try and get updates out weekly, or maybe twice a week for you guys. right now, i'm on 250 votes, so lets see if we can get the entire story to 325 by this time next week, i'll be amazed if we can, so yet again, don't forget to comment, vote and share the story. i hope you all had an excellent holiday and new year! ]

favourite musical person #3: gabrielle aplin.

favourite song(s) by them: mountains, home, and her cover of both dreams [fleetwood mac] and best song ever [one direction].

fun fact: she's my favourite solo female artist so kudos to her.