𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗆 𝗂 𝗇𝗈𝗐?

( maris racal , cis woman , she/her , twenty-four ) ⸒ a little birdy told me AURORA “RORY” BAHANDI just moved to sunset hills . have you met them yet ? i heard them driving down the street playing TO HAUNT, TO STARTLE by PENNY AND SPARROW , they sounded a little pitchy but they had the spirit ! must be their favorite or something . hey … it looks like they just moved into MIDNIGHT PARK . have you heard about what they do for a living ? someone told me they’re a LIBRARIAN / ASPIRING WRITER , but who knows if that’s even true . guess we’re just gonna have to wait and see . nervous ? don’t be , i think you’re gonna get along just fine ! i can’t wait to see what they get up to .

hi all! i’m vee and this my baby rory! pls come love her. 

tw for death and grief 

𝐖𝐇𝐎: hudson drake & OPEN​​​​

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓:​​ hudson likes to harass teens @ the record factory <333 employee of the month if u ask me!

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: the record factory, baby!

“Aht, aht, aht!” Hudson chided, leaping off the counter that was at the front of the Record Factory and beelining immediately for a teenager who had decided to help themselves to the records in the store. The Record Factory had gems, like fucking rubies and sapphires, on their shelves. There weren’t many, but they had a groovy online system so they could ship off their diamonds to more valuable buyers than the next teen girl coming in for the newest Harry Styles album. You know, real vinyl collectors. He snatched the 45 out of the kid’s hand and held onto it like it was his child. “Do you know what this is?” The kid shook his head. Typical. “This is a fucking mint condition The Prettiest Star 45 rpm. Your grubby little hands are on hundreds of dollars of pristine gold. Do you realize that?” The kid shook his head again. 

“Get the hell out of here or go over to the new releases where you belong. I’m sure there’s a new shiny Drake or Logic record over there that you can fondle all day long.” Hudson waved his hand over to the front of the store where all the new shit was. When the teen scurried off to the front of the store, Hudson turned his head, snatching up another record to play over the sound system. Aladdin Sane. He returned to his little spot behind the counter, pulling the record out of its sleeve, and replacing it with whatever had been previously playing. Watch That Man began playing and Hudson looked at the nearest person to be the subject of his rambles. 

“Shit on a brick, I love this song.” He said, snapping his fingers and pointing at said person. “You fuck with Bowie?”

rory was and always had been a creature of habit, clinging onto to her little comforts and finding her comfortable spaces. ever since moving to sunset hills she’d often found the halls of the record factory far more comfortable than her industrial studio, especially as she watched clementine work and settled into the bean bag squashed into between the folk and punk sections. she’d come for the records but mostly stayed for clem. she crossed her legs over one another settling back boneless into the wall as the sounds of david bowie’s croonie crackled nearby. it wasn’t easy to live in a new place, even somewhere only a few hours from her own town, but music was eternal and constant no matter where you went. there would always be siouxsie and the banshees, and the smiths, and fleetwood mac, they were such perennial figures of music that would follow her regardless of where she was or who she had become. 

she quirked an eyebrow up at hudson, caramel skin gleaming in the low fluorescent lights of the store. “jesus hud, you could have been a little scarier i don’t think he shit his pants fast enough.” their friendship had come mostly by proxy but was entertaining nonetheless. “of course i fuck with bowie i’m not an animal. but you should have put on hunky dory.”

for: open!

location: the sunset hills public library