[ She seems to still be lost in her own world, like he's not even there even though she's talked to him. Which is endearing, in a way, because Baby can relate, all too well. After all, he is still wearing earphones himself, Nirvana blaring in his ears - rock helps him when he's stacking in the store.
The way she says his name is mocking, a sharp edge to the name that makes him want to reach out and cover the nametag for a second. He frowns, before smoothing out his features to his customer services face. It's not the first time his name is being mocked by a customer. ]
It's just my name. Are you happy to browse, or would you like me to direct you towards a genre or an artist you may be looking for?
The name suits you. ( that's true, at least. he doesn't exactly strike her as a killer or mack. baby's genuine, sweet, well-intentioned. ) I don't think I could pull it off quite as well.
( a shuffle back to the end of the row retrieves the half-dozen vinyls collected during her explorations; she holds them to her chest, fingertips drumming along the edge to the beat of the store's background music, and watches him for a moment before she pipes back up again. )
Honestly, I thought you were hitting on me at first — ( a grin in his direction as she heads towards the next aisle ) — but you're not, are you?
[ Baby smiles, refraining from rolling his eyes. He knows he looks young, and he feels young most of the time, but it doesn't change the fact that it often feels very condescending. ]
No? What's your name, then?
[ Probably something cool and edgy.
When she tells him she thinks he was hitting on her, his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. ] Uh, no ma'am. [ He emphasizes the word. She's an older lady, and if she's going to jab him for his name, he'll jab back. He smiles, customer-friendly and a little amused. ] Just doing my job.
( it's clipped and short, like all the words that seem to fall out of her mouth, but there's nothing joking about it. it's honest. she tried for so long to change her name, to hide the parts of her she didn't like; nowadays, it's just easier to let things be what they are, to let the chips fall wherever they might go, and to say fuck it to anything that doesn't work out along the way. )
And before you ask, yeah, like the flower.
( she does him the courtesy of looking up as she says it, but once the statement gives way to silence, her gaze drops back down, this time to a stack of cassette tapes in a bucket at the end of a table. she can't remember the last time she'd even seen cassette tapes. )
You don't have to look so horrified. It's okay if I'm not your type, you know.
[ Daisy. Like the flower. It feels too sweet, somehow, for the obviously angry girl in front of him, but there's something about it that also fits. For some reason, it makes him soften up a little, too. ]
It's a nice name. Suits you.
[ He's not lying. He doesn't really lie. ]
I'm not horrified. [ believe him, that's not what horrified looks like on him. ] I'm sorry if I sounded unprofessional, is all. I really need this job, you see.
[ Aka, don't go reporting him to his manager for harassment, please. He is just out of prison, this job is an absolute hail mary. ]
I'm not going to get you fired, Baby. ( though her head doesn't lift from its bow over the tapes, hands busy spreading them out across the table top, picking up one every so often to peer at it more intently, her gaze does flick up to look over at him, partially obscured by the fringe of her bangs. ) I'm not a total dick.
( a tape with a faded baby blue label catches her eye, and daisy picks it up; it lingers between her fingertips for a moment, thumb and forefinger pressing tight against the edges before she suddenly tosses it in his direction. underhand, though. soft enough to be caught even if he's caught off-guard, or so she hopes. )
The store has an intercom? Play that for me. ( a beat. ) I want to hear how it sounds on speakers, not headphones.
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killertrack) wrote2017-09-01 07:34 pm
no subject
[ She seems to still be lost in her own world, like he's not even there even though she's talked to him. Which is endearing, in a way, because Baby can relate, all too well. After all, he is still wearing earphones himself, Nirvana blaring in his ears - rock helps him when he's stacking in the store.
The way she says his name is mocking, a sharp edge to the name that makes him want to reach out and cover the nametag for a second. He frowns, before smoothing out his features to his customer services face. It's not the first time his name is being mocked by a customer. ]
It's just my name. Are you happy to browse, or would you like me to direct you towards a genre or an artist you may be looking for?
no subject
( a shuffle back to the end of the row retrieves the half-dozen vinyls collected during her explorations; she holds them to her chest, fingertips drumming along the edge to the beat of the store's background music, and watches him for a moment before she pipes back up again. )
Honestly, I thought you were hitting on me at first — ( a grin in his direction as she heads towards the next aisle ) — but you're not, are you?
no subject
No? What's your name, then?
[ Probably something cool and edgy.
When she tells him she thinks he was hitting on her, his eyebrows shoot up towards his hairline. ] Uh, no ma'am. [ He emphasizes the word. She's an older lady, and if she's going to jab him for his name, he'll jab back. He smiles, customer-friendly and a little amused. ] Just doing my job.
no subject
( it's clipped and short, like all the words that seem to fall out of her mouth, but there's nothing joking about it. it's honest. she tried for so long to change her name, to hide the parts of her she didn't like; nowadays, it's just easier to let things be what they are, to let the chips fall wherever they might go, and to say fuck it to anything that doesn't work out along the way. )
And before you ask, yeah, like the flower.
( she does him the courtesy of looking up as she says it, but once the statement gives way to silence, her gaze drops back down, this time to a stack of cassette tapes in a bucket at the end of a table. she can't remember the last time she'd even seen cassette tapes. )
You don't have to look so horrified. It's okay if I'm not your type, you know.
no subject
It's a nice name. Suits you.
[ He's not lying. He doesn't really lie. ]
I'm not horrified. [ believe him, that's not what horrified looks like on him. ] I'm sorry if I sounded unprofessional, is all. I really need this job, you see.
[ Aka, don't go reporting him to his manager for harassment, please. He is just out of prison, this job is an absolute hail mary. ]
no subject
( a tape with a faded baby blue label catches her eye, and daisy picks it up; it lingers between her fingertips for a moment, thumb and forefinger pressing tight against the edges before she suddenly tosses it in his direction. underhand, though. soft enough to be caught even if he's caught off-guard, or so she hopes. )
The store has an intercom? Play that for me. ( a beat. ) I want to hear how it sounds on speakers, not headphones.