"You ever listen to vinyls?" Jacob's smile was strained but I could tell he was trying his best to maintain an aura of friendliness and calm.
I pursed my lips and nodded slowly. My brain started to come back online, leave the fight behind me and enter the space of pleasantries and polite conversation.
"Are you a collector?"
"Haha, something like that," Jacob scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
The gesture reminded me of Kay. The voices behind us seemed to grow in volume. I swallowed dryly.
Jacob raised his voice to speak over them, "This is where I work, part time."
I looked around for the first time since entering. My previous question felt foolish. We were standing in a record shop. Crowded tables filled with milk boxes of vinyls lined the walls and created aisles to peruse.
Above me hung at least a dozen statement piece light fixtures. I whistled appreciatively.
"Give me the name of your electrician," I paused, then added in a whisper, "So I can avoid them."
