- INTRODUCING DYLAN CARPENTER !

SOUNDTRACK CAN BE FOUND HERE

Slight TW: PTSD mentions

no matter what dylan had the intention of doing or going on a day off, his feet always seemed to take him HERE. it was as if some divine force was pulling him towards the shop, and most importantly, to clementine. he was a lover - it was in his nature to find the good in everyone. but she’d enchanted him the moment he’d seen her spooning out soup at the kitchens. he’d tried to stay away - he was damaged goods since the war. it was bad enough he had to burden his best friend and roommate with his baggage, he couldn’t bear to weigh a such a bright spirit like clementine down.  

who: anyone at all! where: rockin’ n rollin’ roller rink!

‘you’re not smoking out here, are you?’ the voice of jess’ boss at the roller rink rang out behind the building, where jess was taking an indulgently long break. the back door opened and the manager poked their head out, looking between their employee and the person standing with them. “no one’s smoking out here, man. we’re like, zero percent interested in that stuff. swear on my life,” they assured boss man, who gave them the ol’ stink eye after hearing jess’ strained voice, but still went back inside. the cloud of smoke that exploded out of jess was thick and potent, leaving them coughing, laughing, and extending the joint they’d been hiding behind their back to their partner in crime. “thanks for not blowin’ up my spot. you want a hit?”

dylan gave the old man a crooked smile - he’d never done well with the uptight middle-age age group, and today wasn’t the day that would change. he could feel the man inspecting his half-buttoned shirt he’d fished out of the salvation army bins and his old army cargo shorts. he didn’t quite look the part of an upstanding conservative citizen. 

he nodded in agreement as they spoke, letting out a chuckle as the door slammed behind the man. “impressive lung capacity.” he stated with another laugh before taking the offered joint. dylan had never said no to a drug offering in his life. perhaps he could have used a lecture on peer pressures, not that he would have listened to that at any point. he let the smoke billow out of his lips as his lungs filled with the herbal smoke. “no, thank you for sharing. with a boss like that, i’d suck that whole joint up and still need four more.” he conceded, handing it back to them. 

Open starter!

Location: Vick’s Vinyls in the afternoon

Ronnie had leftover snacks from lunch… snacks she had stolen, putting them into a box she had taken with her for her snack heist. It was nothing but Planters potato chips, Banana Flips, Nabisco Cheese Tid Bits, Toastettes Strawberry Toaster Pastries, Ding-Dongs, some new candy called Ring Pops, and Slim Jims.

She came back into the shop with a smile.

“I’ve got snacks for everyone! It’s my treat. Come and get em’!” Ronnie said with a grin before she undid the wrapping on a Slim Jim and took a bite out of the savory stick made out of meat.

sporting a hangover and stoned - as per usual - dylan paced the aisles of the record shop. he liked the smell of the records and the chilled atmosphere of the shop. he had no money or interest in buying anything, but he was able to charm his way into loitering almost anywhere. 

𝐖𝐇𝐎: marilyn mcfadden & OPEN

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄: crescent paradise

Working at Crescent Paradise wasn’t Marilyn’s first idea at a stellar job. She’d much rather be interviewing criminals or modeling for Vogue, but alas, that would never happen. Instead, she settled for the easiest job she could and what was easier than laying out in a swimsuit all day? It’s not like people drowned or got eaten by sharks and if they did… well, that’s what her one day CPR training and the police were for! Other than that, she could kinda just do whatever and blow her whistle at ugly people.

Marilyn had long abandoned her post, something she did fairly often, and instead of sitting in her lifeguard chair she was instead laying on a beach towel. If no one was dying, then she was going to sunbathe. She didn’t need to look like some pale freak. As she laid on the towel, soaking in the rays that would eventually give her some kind of skin damage in her late adulthood, she felt the presence of the sun go away. Thinking it was simply the clouds coming out, she raised her disco glasses to sit atop her head, only to be met with a person who was blocking the sun instead. “What?” She snapped. “Unless someone is like, literally dying or combusting into flames right now, I need you to get out of my sun.”

Dylan cursed as he felt the sand make it’s way between his ( admittedly quite dirty ) feet and the soles of his hand-woven sandals. Though he was quite the stereotypical hippie, he was far from the beach rat type. If he wanted to lay around what was essentially the world’s litterbox and sweat, he’d rather just hang out at Indigo on one of his off nights. Yet again, he’d heard through his own grapevine that there was considerably less volunteer beach cleanup happening at Crescent Paradise. As always, he decided to take it upon himself to scour the beach and clean up what he could. 

Once he was happy with his progress, he was left with a plastic bag chock-full of various garbage. He wasn’t a difficult guy, but DAMN IT this stuff was starting to stink in the persistent California heat. He spotted the nearest lifeguard chair, which was to his surprise, fully empty. It only took a few seconds for him to locate the lifeguard’s uniform lounging on a towel, soaking up the rays. The snappy voice brought a crooked smile to his face, eyebrows lifting beyond the bright red lady’s sunglasses he found earlier on in the day. “There’s a lot of people here today. Aren’t you supposed to be... Oh. I don’t know.. Guarding? Lives? As the job title clearly describes?” Taking a moment to look out at the water, he turned back to the bronzed girl with a chuckle. “Anyways. I was doing some beach cleanup. No garbage cans big enough for the size of this heifer. I can leave this with you, right?” He asked with a sweet smile as his fingers loosened their grip on the heavy bag, letting drop on the edge of her towel.