Chapter Text
Crap, crap, crap!
You’re running as fast as you can on the rain-slicked cobblestone. Every step threatens to send you flying face-first into the pavement. The worn soles of your favorite sneakers nearly slide right off of the slick surface, but you keep pushing, the buzz of your watch urging you on.
6:58.
You shouldn’t have trusted the hours online, but how were you supposed to know that the website meant mall hours, not individual shop hours? Why did shops even have their own hours? It made no sense to you—why would they even bother keeping the mall open ‘til 8 when nearly all the stores closed at 7?
At least the walkways are empty. The later hour and heavy rain have chased away whatever shoppers still remained, leaving you alone in the open-air center, guided only by the glow of lamplights and your own frantic heartbeat.
Come on, come on! Your eyes scan the doors of each shop you pass. None of them match the one you need. Did you pass it? Surely not: you would have noticed! You know this storefront by heart, it sticks out like a sore…
–thumb.
Your breath catches sharply as you see it not a hundred feet ahead of you, the blocky black signage still brightly backlit against its brick facade.
Hot Topic.
You force yourself to swallow and sprint towards the closed doors. They had to be open; they just had to be. It was only—
You tug once, twice on the cold metal handle. It clicks defiantly but does not give.
Your watch reads 7:01.
You slump to your knees. The plastic bag in your hand crinkles in protest. So close. You were so close. Pulling out the receipt, you stare at the date printed in black and white, willing it to change so your defeat hurts less. All it does is remind you of the bitter truth. Your thirty-day return window expired exactly two—no, three minutes ago.
Water pools around you, dampening your tights and threatening to soak your combat boots. You know you should get up, but wallowing in undeserved self-pity feels preferable somehow.
Part of you is hoping there’s still someone in the store, that they’ll see you and have mercy on your poorly timed return, but you know you’re being ridiculous. Any staff unfortunate enough to still be inside are likely in the back, most definitely off the clock, packing up their belongings and getting ready to leave the dreary world of retail behind until their next shift. With a sigh, you grab the door handle and hoist yourself up.
The door swings open. “Can I—”
“Ah!” You stumble back. The edge of the door catches your boot and knocks you flat on your ass and into another puddle. Great.
“Holy shit. I’m so sorry!” The employee kneels down beside you, eyes wide. His brow furrows as he fusses over you. “Are you okay? I honestly didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you saw me coming!”
He gives you a quick once over. Nothing hurts really, minus your pride, though you feel your cheeks start to burn as your eyes meet his. He’s older than you, definitely, at least in his mid-twenties, with long hair and stubble and the biggest green eyes you’ve ever seen. The small name tag on his shirt reads Daniel.
He cocks his head slightly to the side, and you realize you’ve been asked a question.
“Ah, s-sorry. Run that by me again? Please?” you ask sheepishly.
Daniel smiles, and despite the chill and rain you somehow feel warm inside. “I asked if I could help you with anything. Y’know, since you seemed in such a rush to get here.”
Embarrassment floods your body. You hide your face in your hands as his laugh confirms your worst fears.
“Agh! I’m so sorry, I just—I googled the hours earlier and thought you were open until eight, but that was just for the mall, so then I got here late and it’s the last day for my return, and I just really really wanted to get in before it closed!” Your rambling is interrupted only by the slight chatter of your teeth as you try to ignore the cold seeping into your bones. Even your words are starting to run together, but you’re too wound up and frozen and mortified to care.
Your fingers tremble as you start to run out of things to say. Daniel is patiently silent, and you wish he’d said something, anything to get you to stop talking.
“I-I know you’re technically closed, though,” you finish lamely, tearing your gaze away. “So, um, sorry to b-bother you…” You trail off and bite your tongue. If only there was a hole you could crawl away and die in.
You feel his hand on your shoulder as he pats your arm gently. When you look up, he’s grinning at you, his eyes bright.
“Key word there is technically,” he says. “It just so happens you’re in luck—I got carried away with a friend of mine and haven’t had a chance to close out the till just yet. Come inside, and I’ll see if we can’t get that return sorted for ya.”
He stands and offers you his hand, holding the door open. You slip inside and are immediately greeted by a blast of forced heat and Black Veil Brides over the loudspeaker. Clutching your bag to your chest, you can’t help the smile creeping its way onto your face as you take in the walls of band tee shirts and pop culture merch mingled with fashion guaranteed to make your mother purse her lips and pray under her breath.
This place is more than heaven on earth. To you, it feels almost like home.
Daniel closes the door but doesn’t lock it, instead flipping the sign to CLOSED and leaning a broom against the glass. You feel a rush of appreciation as he steps behind the counter and takes your bag.
“Thank you so much!” You beam, fighting the urge to hug this random stranger out of sheer relief and admiration.
He shakes his head.“Don’t mention it. Figured it was the least I could do—after all the effort you put in to get here.”
Your face grows hot, and he laughs.
“I’m just teasing ya,” he says as he scans the barcode. “Did you want a refund or store credit?”
You had planned on asking for a simple refund, but find your eyes wandering over to the women’s fashion section towards the back. He smiles.
“Go ahead and look around a bit if you want,” he says. “I’ve got some cleaning to finish up front—just shout when you’re ready, and I’ll ring you up when you’re done.”
You nod furiously before rushing across the store. The jewelry stand is lined with sets of earrings, novelty pieces, and chokers in various colors and styles. Your gaze settles on a pink velvet one with little roses. It’s roughly the same price as what you’re returning, a shirt you got on sale that looked way cuter in the store’s dimly lit fitting rooms than it did at home. Just the memory of your pasty skin against the muddy green fabric makes you cringe.
This choker, though. You hold it against your neck and turn towards the mirror. It’s perfect . One of the roses sits right at the base of your throat. You finger it gently, twisting the necklace side to side.
Oh, yeah. You grin. “Hey, I think I—”
You turn, eager to show Daniel your new find, and collide with something solid. The force sends you stumbling backwards into the display. Your feet slip out from under you, and in your desperation you seize the untethered jewelry rack, pulling it down on top of you.
Everything hurts. You land on your tailbone as pain shoots up your spine. The display’s metal hooks dig pointlessly into your body, not nearly sharp enough to do real damage. Still, they scraped and scratched at your exposed skin, all but guaranteeing future bruises.
“The fuck?”
You freeze mid sit-up. You were expecting to see Daniel—maybe he’d come to check on you, or had been quietly cleaning up behind you while you were too busy to notice. Instead of his wide eyes and friendly smile, you’re met with a ferocious scowl. Sharp bared teeth and narrowed, slit-like eyes hold you in place, ice blue and colder than the pelting rain outside.
Where did he come from? You feel yourself shrink under his glare and bite your lip, pulling your knees to your chest in a subconscious attempt to make yourself smaller. Your insides twist and tighten. You hadn’t heard the door open. Though his torn fishnet top looks like something pulled straight out of Hot Topic’s catalog, he’s got no name tag in sight.
Wait—Daniel. Where had he gone? You open your mouth to call for him—the store’s not that big after all, surely he’ll hear you?
The thought vanishes as the stranger kneels over you, seizing a fistful of your shirt.
“The fuck are you doing here, you little gnat?” he snarls. Any words you prepared die on your tongue, becoming a pathetic whimper as the frantic thrum of your heart threatens to shatter your ribs.
His grip tightens in response. “I asked you a question, you fucking little—”
“Peter! ”
Behind the madman, your savior appears. Daniel’s horrified. He scrambles to put himself between you and your assailant. To your surprise, the stranger lets go and backs off without a fight, though you can still feel him glaring daggers at you.
“I-I’m sorry…” Your voice shakes as you look down at the scattered remains of the jewelry display. Hooks hang askew, and countless pieces of costume finery litter the floor. “I was just looking—I went to call you, and–”
You cut yourself off, not wanting to say another word, not with the crazy guy still less than a foot away from you.
Daniel scratches his head and sighs.“Don’t worry about it, it’s fine, really.” He turns to the goth boy behind him. Instead of fear or intimidation, though, he just looks tired. “Dude, I said I’d be back in a minute. What the hell?”
You bite your tongue. After a moment, the goth boy tears his gaze away from you. His expression softens marginally when he speaks to Daniel. “I got bored. Saw this brat snooping around and making a mess of shit, so figured I’d scare her a little.”
Your eyes widen as your stomach clenches. Was he really trying to blame this all on you?
“I was not snooping!” you protest. A blaze of bitter heat in your core is enough to chase off your panic, at least a little. “I was just trying to make an exchange!”
The stranger sneers. “The store’s closed, dipshit. Can’t you read?”
Your hands ball at your sides as the heat spreads to your cheeks. Before you can say another word, however, Daniel intervenes.
“She’s right, Peter,” he says slowly. He’s pushing Peter back a bit, forcing the much taller boy to look at him rather than you. “I let her in. It’s just one item; it’s not a big deal.”
Peter doesn’t respond, though you can tell he’s less than pleased with Daniel’s explanation.
“You can deal with her mess, then,” he says at last with a shrug.
Your lip curls.
“I didn’t do it on purpose! You scared me.” You’re almost breathless, but you try not to let it show.
Peter glowers at you—and gets flicked in the forehead by Daniel.
“Is that right? Guess you’re in charge of clean-up then, bud.” Daniel shoves his broom into Peter’s open hands and ushers you over to the counter. You can still hear Peter grumbling, but being out of his sight is a welcome reprieve. It’s as if a weight has been lifted from your chest.
“Sorry about him.” Daniel scans the choker and removes the security tag. “Peter’s an old friend. Bit rough around the edges, but I promise, he’s harmless.”
You recall the feeling of his hand at the base of your throat and repress a shudder. Sure. Harmless. “Does he work here, too?”
Daniel shakes his head. “Nah. Technically he’s not supposed to be here after hours–vault security and all. But he helps clean up sometimes, and he’s good company to have when everyone else is clocked out, y’know?”
He must catch the expression on your face, because he smiles apologetically. “I’m sorry, I should have warned you. I told him to stay in the back when I saw you coming, but, ah, listening isn’t exactly his strong suit.”
“I heard that!”
You stifle a laugh as Peter shouts from across the store, followed by a few choice words. Daniel’s smile returns in full force. He bags up your item and walks you back to the front of the store.
Thankfully, Peter doesn’t follow him, though he does watch you leave. His demeanor reminds you of a junkyard guard dog, spiked collar and all. It chills you to the bone, the way he looks at you, the way his eyes follow your every move as you once again thank Daniel profusely, as he locks the door behind you, as you hurry back down the open air marketplace to your parents’ waiting car.
Even once you’re all settled in, purchase tucked between your legs, seat belt buckled and headphones on, tuning out your parents’ snapping at you over how long it took you to return just one item to that silly little store of yours, you can still feel his eyes on you.