#fucking dumb I like haven’t been able to listen to music Properly unless I’m screaming in the shower with my fancy little speaker

[buysomecheese]

You’ve ruined music for me; I can’t enjoy a song without your voice louder than the lyrics

[slipping-through-my-fingertips]

mad woman

part of my folklore series

Summary: Kurt is concerned that Santana has lost her voice; Blaine helps her get it back. 

Notes: I really feel that this song embodies Santana. I can’t explain it but it just reminds me so much of her. HAPPY 1 YEAR OF FOLKLORE!!!!!

AO3

Anytime he heard Santana singing in the shower, Kurt wondered why she gave up performing. Sure, she had the Spotlight Diner shifts but she was seldom a soloist. More likely, Santana opted to be backup vocals unless she was feuding with Rachel that day. It was like glee all over again. Her voice silenced or drowned out by the attention seekers. She didn’t fight for it as she had during her short-lived time as a member of the Treble Tones. Hell, she wasn’t into the music as much as Elliott and Dani were when One Tree Hill had been a quintet. 

Kurt was worried about her. Though she’d deny it, Santana loved to sing. She needed glee just as much as the rest of them. The problem was since she moved to New York it was like she lost her voice. 

He remembers feeling like that when he first arrived. Without NYADA, Kurt was another drop in the huge sea of city folk. No longer did he stand out for his bold fashion choices or being gay. Here, the things that once made him eccentric were just another thing people tried to ignore as they went about their days. No one in the city had time to pick on or compliment a newcomer from a small town in Ohio. 

At first, Kurt liked it because the fear of being beaten for being himself had completely vanished within a few weeks of moving. That was all behind him. Way back in Lima. After a few months, the novelty wore off. He actually started to miss the stares from his classmates at McKinley High. 

He hated to admit it but Rachel may have been right when she said they were similar. Sometimes, Kurt felt like Tinkerbell too. He needed applause to live. Craved the attention. Then, he got it at the Winter Showcase. Madame Tibideaux handed the limelight to him on a silver platter. The entirety of the NYADA staff got to hear him sing. 

Of course, he could’ve thrown up because he was so nervous and completely unprepared. Yet, it had been exhilarating. That rush of being on stage with a captive audience. Combined with his attendance to NYADA being on the line, Kurt hadn’t felt this energized since he last saw Blaine in person. 

None of that seemed to faze Santana Lopez. 

Honestly, after pulling her into the band and having her quit, recommending the evening dance classes at NYADA, and taking her out to Callbacks on weekends, Kurt was out of ideas. She refused to get on stage. But he saw that small smile on her face when she hummed under her breath when she thought no one was listening. No matter how vehemently she denied it, she missed singing. So, Kurt called Blaine. 

“I don’t know, Kurt, it’s kinda hard to help when I’m not seeing the situation for myself.” Blaine sighs, likely bummed he can’t solve this. 

Kurt practically saw him pouting through the phone. Thank god, they weren’t on Skype. He hated seeing his boyfriend looking so defeated when he wasn’t there in person to kiss the top of his head. 

Blaine had become the self-proclaimed advice-giver of the New Directions since he transferred. 

He helped Mike Chang fix his relationship with Tina when they had a week-long fight about only eating at Asian restaurants on their date nights. Tina had been pissed. No simple apology was going to cut it.  Blaine single-handedly compiled a list of Tina’s favorite places to eat and added a few of his personal favorite date night places. 

When Finn would forget special dates and Rachel got fussy about how Finn never uses the couple calendars she made for them, Blaine stepped in and helped him set up a reminder alert on his phone. 

And there was that whole fiasco about Miss Pillsbury not-so-subtly hinting that she wanted to get engaged. Blaine was able to straighten Mr. Schue out pretty quickly that day. For the life of him, that man didn’t understand why Miss Pillsbury was acting so weird. 

“You don’t have to be so roundabout, you know?” Kurt told him. 

“Huh.” Playing dumb, typical.

“Just come up to the city, Blaine,” he said. “I know you want to ask.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, boyfriend of mine,” Blaine huffed. “I have zero ulterior motives while being completely unhelpful to your current predicament.” 

“Uh-huh, I’m sure that’s the case. I’ll see you next week.” 

“Unless Cooper can find an earlier flight!” Blaine exclaimed. 

He had been using up the countless number of frequent flyer miles his older brother had racked up to make weekend trips to New York. After Cooper discovered their long-distance relationship (likely after one too many late-night calls from Blaine missing his boyfriend), he offered them to Blaine. 

Blaine arrived the following Friday. McKinley had some teacher’s day so Blaine was able to hop on a morning flight. He was waiting in the loft when Kurt finished classes for the day. 

“Okay, we’re going to Callbacks tonight,” Kurt said, removing his coat. 

“Hello to you too,” Blaine replied, standing up from the sofa. “How are you, Blaine? How was the flight, Blaine? I missed you so much, Blaine.” 

Kurt rolled his eyes and ignored his boyfriend. 

“This isn’t about you, Blaine,” he said, “it’s about Santana.” 

“Wow, Blaine, you look great! Aren’t those my yellow pants you’re borrowing?” Blaine crossed his arms. 

“Hey!” Kurt exclaimed. “Those are my pants!” 

“Yeah.” Blaine blushed. “I rolled them so they’d fit better.”

Kurt marched over to him and knocked him onto the couch. “You look hot in my clothes.” 

“I look better out of them.” 

Instead of verbally agreeing, Kurt unbuttoned his yellow pants. Blaine was quick to keep up removing his own shirt and attempting to pull off Kurt’s as well. However, Blaine was sitting on the couch and Kurt was kneeling between his legs. It was proving to be rather difficult a task. 

“Kurt…” Blaine groaned, “come up here with me.” 

“I can’t very well do what I want up there, Blaine.” 

He sat up straighter. “Is this payment for not properly greeting me because I’ll take a blowjob over ‘how do you do’ any day?” 

Kurt pressed his face into Blaine’s naked thigh. “So long as you aren’t accepting blowjobs from anyone but me.”

“No, I would…” Kurt licked around Blaine’s hip. “Never.” 

Within seconds, Blaine’s head was fully tipped over the back of the couch and the only thing coming from his mouth were moans. He couldn’t even force the word ‘Kurt’ from his lips. When Kurt finally gave in and decided Blaine had received efficient teasing, he sucked at the tip until Blaine screamed his name. 

They were quick to clean up their mess afterward, unsure of when the girls would be home. It was one thing to have sex in the living room, it was a whole other to get caught. Though, Kurt figured Rachel owned him after Brody paraded around naked for the few months they dated.  

“Okay, now that we’ve defiled Santana’s bed, can we focus on helping her?” 

“Step one, don’t tell her about this,” Blaine suggested. 

Kurt slapped Blaine’s chest. 

“Ow.” 

“Be helpful. You said if you were in New York, you’d be able to help better. So do it.” 

“FIne,” Blaine replied, “no Callbacks. I have a better idea.” 

Turns out that idea was a speciality club night of Alternative Tunes. 

“It’s open mic. There’s gonna be singers, poets, magicians, and I heard their harpist is opening tonight,” Blaine explained, as they waited in line. 

“Is that why she brought your violin?” Rachel questioned. 

“Yup!” Blaine held up his black case. “I haven’t played to an audience of more than one in a while.” 

Kurt smiled at him. He loved when Blaine performed just for him almost as much as he enjoyed watching Blaine in front of an audience. Something about his face just lit up on stage. The same way Santana’s did in front of a microphone. 

“As much as I love talking about violins…” She rolled her eyes, “is there alcohol at this place?” Santana asked, “because that’s like 90% the point of going out.” 

“Yes, there’s alcohol,” Kurt confirmed. 

He told Blaine they’d need at least two drinks into Santana before they brought up performing to her. Which proved true. After nursing two long island ice teas, Santana was finally talking to Blaine about being on stage. He hadn’t gone up yet and she was teasing him.

“Come on, you brought your own instrument and everything,” she said. “Give us a show and tell.” 

With that, Blaine stood up and walked to the stage. No one was in line so he went right up after the juggler finished. He tapped the microphone and introduced himself.

“I’d like to dedicate this first one to my boyfriend.” 

He mouthed an “I love you” towards Kurt, who blew a kiss back. 

Then, he was lost in the strings. The next song he did was for Santana. Blaine didn’t announce it or anything but he watched her face when he could during the progression of the song. When he finished his set, Blaine thanked the audience. Kurt whistled and clapped, Rachel was jumping up and down while screaming for an encore, and when Blaine was back at the table Santana offered to buy him a drink. 

Without Kurt even realizing it, the next performer on stage was Santana. Just her. She didn’t introduce herself as Blaine did, the piano music just started to play and then she was singing. 

“What do you sing on your drive home?

Do you see my face in the neighbor's lawn?

Does she smile?

Or does she mouth, ‘Fuck you forever’?” 

Kurt couldn’t say why exactly but the song suited her well. Santana was always one to command an audience when she soloed. Soft instrumental with harsher lyrics was always her style. 

While Santana had the audience and Kurt captivated, Blaine bounced back over to their table. He had two drinks in his hand. 

“For you,” he said, passing Kurt a mojito. 

In return, Kurt pecked his check. He really was so lucky. Then, his full attention went back to the stage. 

 “Every time you call me crazy, I get more crazy

What about that?

And when you say I seem angry, I get more angry

And there's nothing like a mad woman

What a shame she went mad

No one likes a mad woman

You made her like that”

 As Santana finished her song, Kurt and Rachel turned to Blaine, who was positively beaming. He’d done exactly what he had told Kurt he could do. 

“How?” Rachel asked. 

“I’m a smooth talker,” Blaine said with a smirk. 

Kurt rolled his eyes.

 If anything, his boyfriend was a clumsy mess. Romantic and adorable? Yes. Tripped over his words? Constantly. 

“Come on, Blaine, give it up,” Kurt said. 

“Magicians never reveal their secrets.” 

Rachel huffed. She had a glint in her eyes suggesting she wasn’t giving up. Rachel rarely did when she really wanted something. Kurt had a theory that she could pester anyone enough to get what she wanted. Example A, a ticket to NYADA by tracking down the head of admissions and inviting her to Chicago to watch a show choir competition.  

Before Kurt could tell Rachel to drop it, Santana returned. She had a new drink in her hand. 

“Compliments of the lady in red,” she told them. 

“Excellent song choice,” Kurt said.

“Blaine’s idea.” she shrugged, sipping her drink. 

Blaine was still beaming. 

“It’s perfect for her, isn’t it?” Blaine replied, “When I first heard it I knew I had to hear Santana do a cover of it.” 

Santana winked at him from across the table. 

“What is going on with you two?” Rachel asked. “The devil incarnate and the sun from teletubbies should not get along this well.” 

Santana shrugged. “He’s besties with Britt.” 

“It’s true.” Blaine nodded.  “She even called us the Sunshine Twins.” 

Kurt’s eyes drift to Blaine’s—his—yellow pants. “Yeah, that fits.” 

[the-redhead-who-writes]

Musically Inclined

“James asks Sam to run into town and pick up some music for him, and this ‘dumb errand’ turns into a trip he won’t soon forget.” Music Store AU that is fluffiness to the max. This fic was inspired by the single 'Chained the Monster’, which is the opening theme for Seduce Me the Otome! I highly recommend you take a listen to it if you haven’t already; it’s an awesome song!

I hope you all enjoy!

Dedicated to @the-sassy-sister as a late birthday present! Thank you so much for all of your help with editing and for just being there for me.

Rated T for language, ‘cause Sam.

Link: FF.net               Link: AO3

Sam didn’t get the Human World.

Sure, there were some sweets perks to living in it: he had way more freedom than when he was living in the Abyssal Plains, for one. Yeah, he’d pretty much slacked off that whole time, but at least here, he could slack off and not have his douchebag Dad breathing down his neck.

Video games were pretty cool, too. Matthew had dug up some old human gaming console from the mansion’s basement the first week after they’d arrived, and since then, handing his ass to him never got old.

But the rest was kind of a shitshow.

Sam didn’t know much about Human World history either. Unlike James, who for some reason actually liked studying every aspect of human life. Their traditions and cultures were fascinating to him, and he seemed to start on a new research topic every other week. This time it was music. More specifically, a bunch of long-dead musicians.

“Sam, I’d appreciate if you could simply do me this favour,” James yelled tiredly through the open window. Sam didn’t have to see him to know he was pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation.

“Why the hell do I gotta go out and get your stupid music? Whaddaya even want it for anyway?” Sam groused, not bothering to open his eyes. Cushioning his arm beneath his head, he shifted onto his side, enjoying how the afternoon sun warmed the roof.

He heard James sigh.

“I’ve already told you. If we are to stay in this world, we must learn all that we can about the people who occupy it. The research I’m compiling highlights the men and women that greatly affected humanity; explorers, theorists, musicians and scientists alike. Beethoven, Bach and Mozart for example - seen as geniuses for the prominent pieces of music they’d composed in their lifetimes, and whom are still considered to be the most brilliant minds of the age in modern-”

“Ok, ok, I got it. Geez… But why me? Isn’t this Damien’s kinda thing? He loves all that stuff about humans: just get him to do it.”

“Damien and Matthew are out shopping for this week’s groceries, and before you ask, Erik is gone as well. He’s picking up some books that I need from the library.”

“So why don’t you go and get the CD’s then?” Sam retorted, adding under his breath, “You’re the one who actually wants to waste his time listening to ‘em.”

“I heard that,” James snapped, “And for your information, I’m still in the process of finalizing our Citizenship documents. Fake as they may be, blending in with the humans and their routines is crucial to the start of our new lives. Unless you’d rather spend the duration of our time here confined to the mansion.”

How the hell did his stupid research have anything to do with that last part?

Sam didn’t respond, rolling over onto his back.

Their freedom depended on some old dead guys who could write music? That logic made zero sense. But even the idea of not being able to leave the mansion for the rest of his life really sucked.

Before he had a chance to finish his internal debate though, James took his lapse of silence as a ‘yes’.

“Be sure to take some money with you, as well as one of the disposable cell phones I bought, just in case. And you can take the bus into town to get to the record shop.”

“Oh, one last thing,” James called over his shoulder, voice growing fainter as he walked away. “I’ll leave you a note with directions and a list of several composers and song titles on the dining table. It should make finding the materials simpler.”

And with that, he left, his footsteps echoing softly off the marble floors.

Once he was sure James was gone, Sam opened his eyes, squinting up at the sky. Freakin’ perfect. Reluctantly, he braced himself up on his left hand, rubbing his other palm into his eye.

All this for some stupid music…

While on his brothers’ dumb errand, Sam discovered something else he didn’t understand about humans.

Why the hell they ever took the bus.

Hot and cramped, with fifty other people crowding around him, it reeked like sweat and the ‘gasoline’ James had told him powered the thing. It was loud as shit too. People talking, some kid was crying, and there was a guy playing a game on his phone and screaming at it.

If the humans thought it was bad, it was a thousand times worse for Sam. With his enhanced senses, the smell and noise were practically choking him, and getting jostled every two minutes by the old lady knitting in the seat beside him wasn’t helping.

Agitated, he tried to adjust his hold on the safety pole but felt the steel crumple in his grasp. He quickly loosened his grip, only to find a perfect imprint of his hand dented into the metal. Sam groaned and resigned himself to leaning against the damn thing instead. That was precisely the moment that the old lady finished her row, and jabbed him squarely in the ribs again. Startled, he fell to the dirty bus floor, landing on his ass with a thud. The guy on his phone snickered, and Sam’s blood boiled.

Fucking awesome.

When the bus finally stopped, he vaulted over the seats, dashed out the sliding doors with inhuman speed, and skidded to a stop on the sidewalk. Bent over with his hands on his knees, he gasped for air, taking several deep breaths.

He was walking back to the mansion, no fucking question.

Once the horrible smell was out of his nose and the ringing had faded from his ears, Sam straightened. Breathing hard and pissed beyond belief, he pulled the paper James had left him out of his vest pocket. The faster he got this done, the better, and according to the crudely drawn map sketched on the note, the record store was a just a little further down the road - the fifth on the left.

He heard it before he saw it. Muffled laughter and music floated down the street, coming from a run-down looking shop.

It was definitely old, crammed between an arcade and a bookstore. The bricks were chipped and worn. Cobwebs blew gently in the corners of windows that were littered with faded posters, and a stained welcome mat sat in front of a tarnished brass door. In short, it looked like shit, but Sam couldn’t have cared less; it wasn’t like he planned on taking his time.

Pushing the door open, a bell chimed above Sam’s head and scattered voices mixed with the music playing in the background.

It was bigger than it looked outside, but just as messy. Boxes were stacked everywhere, while different instruments hung on the walls. A busted light cast shadows over the back of the store while the sections of CD’s were brightly lit. Rows of shelves held hundreds of discs for people to browse, but thankfully it was nowhere near as cramped as the bus.

Now that he was here, all he had to do was find James’s shit. Then he could get back to the mansion. Sam wandered to the nearest shelf and unfolded the list again. Ruffling his hair, he started scanning the names, already bored. After the first couple lines, though, he furrowed his brow and brought the paper closer to his face.

Looking over the titles a little more closely, his eyes widened. 

Shit…

He couldn’t recognize one damn word on the page.

It was no big secret that Sam couldn’t read, not extensively anyway. He knew the basics, kinda, but James and Erik were the ones who’d been taught properly, being the prospective heirs and all. Matthew had picked up some reading and writing from his mom, and Damien… Well, he had actually tried to learn once they’d ended up in the Human World, combing through the mansion’s library for practice. Sam had meant to join him once or twice, he just… hadn’t gotten around to it yet.

He could read some smaller words, and he’d been kind of betting on that to get him through the stupid trip. But the names and titles James had written were long and complicated, completely foreign to him. If he couldn’t pick out any familiar words, how the hell was he supposed to find the right CD’s?

Gripping the paper tighter, Sam tried to focus on the letters of James’s handwriting, but they melted and blurred together.

Fuck. Now what was he gonna do?

Growling under his breath, he picked a random case off the shelf and scrutinized it, trying to match the title cover to something on his list. …No, this one didn’t start with the right letter. He dropped it back in its slot and picked up another. The font was curly and intricate, which made reading it even harder. …Was that one long word or two really short ones…?

“Hi there! Can I help you with anything?”

Sam stiffened at the sudden, perky voice behind him, his fingers gripping the case in his hands hard enough to audibly crack the plastic. He was not in the mood for this shit right now…

With a grim set of his jaw and a biting “No, I’m fine, leave me alone” on his lips, he whirled around, but the words promptly died in his throat.

A girl was standing with her thumbs hooked casually in the front pockets of her jeans. Long, dark hair hung loosely around her shoulders, shining even in the dim light. Contrasting sharply against her fair skin, it brought out her wide, emerald green eyes; eyes that were watching him closely.

She tilted her head to the side, concern dimming her cheerful smile as she stared up at him. “Hey, are you alright?” she asked, noticing how white his knuckles had gone around the CD case.

“What?” Sam replied thickly, his thoughts buzzing as he tried not to swallow his own tongue.

Her expression softened, the corners of her eyes crinkling. “Can I help you?” she repeated patiently. “Are you looking for something?”

His brain froze; he couldn’t help it. Her voice was so soft that if he’d been another foot away, he might’ve missed it. And yet, it held such tenderness, something Sam had no experience with at all. He was utterly stunned; the deadly combination of both shock and awe rendering him baffled.

Blinked owlishly, he nodded, handing her the crushed note robotically. When her fingers brushed his, more warmth seeped through his already flustered body.

“It’s nice you have a list. A lot of the time, people just come in here with a general idea of what they’re looking for, and they end up wandering around for hours.” 

She laughed nostalgically at her own memory, before smoothing the paper over her leg and reading through it. “Alright, let’s see… Oh! ‘Bach, Beethoven, Chopin, Mozart..’. You’re interested in Classical music?” she presumed.

“Uh, well, yeah. I guess?” Sam muttered, cursing himself for stammering like an idiot. She was just some girl - a human girl - and yet he could barely string together a proper sentence. 

What the hell was wrong with him?

“Cool! It’s been too long since someone showed an interest in something other than the usual Top 40’s.” Nodding thoughtfully, she refolded his list and peered down at the CD he was still clutching. “But you know, I think you’re gonna have a little trouble finding what you’re looking for here…" she said matter-of-factly, and Sam’s breath hitched.

Shit. She’d made him. What the hell did he do now? Explain why he couldn’t read the labels? 

He blanked, her sudden appearance and the panic now flooding his veins leaving him incapable of responding, let alone defending himself.

But instead of scrutiny, her eyes sparkled with mischief, and she chewed her bottom lip. “…Because the Country section is a really bad place to start.”

The blood drained from Sam’s face, and she snorted, bursting into a fit of laughter. Light and happy, it rang clear as a bell, and even as he sagged against the shelf in relief, warmth flooded his chest. Who had a laugh like that? Dumbfounded, he listened as she continued to giggle softly, nose scrunched.

Then indignation had him scowling half-heartedly. She was laughing at him. That girl nearly gave him a heart attack, and she thought it was funny? What the hell?!

Still trying to smother her laughter with her hand, she looked back up at him with the sweetest smile Sam had ever seen. His scowl faltered.

Well, she was… actually… kinda cute. She had to work here, right? Why else would she ask him if he needed help? Maybe he could get her name… No way, she’d probably freak out or something. Worse, she might figure out what he was, and then James would kick his-

Wait. Country?

Realizing his mistake, Sam’s face burned, and he quickly returned the disc. Shoving his hands into his pockets, he awkwardly cleared his throat, “So, um, w-where can I find those uh-”

“I can show you!” she offered, maybe a little too quickly, and her face flushed a warm pink. Sam gawked at her eager response and, embarrassed, she looked down at her shoes. “S-sorry. It’s just… been awhile since someone came in looking for Classical music, that’s all…”

The pink tint to her cheeks proved to be incredibly distracting, and since he still wasn’t all there, Sam just continued to stare like a dumbass.

It got uncomfortably quiet for a second; Sam standing like a statue while the girl shifted her weight from foot to foot. His brain was screaming at him to say something - anything - but she beat him to it.

“You know what, you-you brought a list, so you obviously know what you need.” She smiled sheepishly, and Sam’s heart lurched into his throat. “I should probably just leave you to-”

“No!” he cut her off sharply. Taken aback, she stared up at him with wide eyes, and he shook his head vigorously. Without her, he had no goddamn hope of finding the stuff for James. And for some stupid reason… he didn’t want to see her go. “Uh, no,” he said again, a little more put together. “You can help… If you want.”

His mumbled words were almost indistinguishable, but she caught them anyway, and another beautiful smile lit up her face, effectively taking his breath away for the third time.

“Ok then! Just follow me.” 

Beaming, she turned on her heel, and Sam couldn’t help but admire her figure as she walked away. Slim, but curvy, she held herself with the same grace he remembered from the higher ups in the Abyssal Plains. But that was where the similarities ended. There was something else - it wasn’t the same ‘holier-than-thou’, 'walks-with-a-stick-up-their-ass’ kind of attitude. The way she folded her hands, the light behind her smile. She was just… warm.

“Are you coming?” Her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and he quickly jogged to catch up to her. Together, they breezed past row after row of music, and at every turn, she was recognized by someone; asking how she was, or if school was going well.

“You’re pretty popular,” Sam commented as they wormed their way through the store.

She scoffed, which still somehow managed to sound endearing.

“Thanks, but I’m really not. I’ve only been working here part-time for about 6 months, just until I finish up my last year of high school. Most of our customers are regulars anyway; not many people actually go out to buy their music anymore, ya know?”

No, he didn’t. But Sam chose not to mention that in fear of looking even more stupid than he already felt.

Finally reaching an aisle around the far end of the shop, she spread the list out beside her and set to work, skimming her fingers lightly across the tops of the albums. Stacking CD after CD, she worked diligently with a determined smile, expressing how genuinely happy she was with the task of helping him.

Sam watched the pile steadily grow until there were about two dozen cases, at least.

Geez, how much music did James need?

Every so often, she’d lean over and check the paper before setting back to work, but the motion kept untucking a lock of hair from behind her ear. And seeing her run her small fingers through it, attempting to pin it back into place over and over again, was driving Sam crazy. So were the soft sounds she made, the little hmm’s and oh’s when she got frustrated, or the uh-huh’s and ah-ha’s when she found the correct album.

After a few minutes she finally finished, and Sam could breathe properly again. Adding one last case to the pile with a loud clack!, she turned back to rest against the shelf.

“Phew! That should be all of them! Quite the collection you’re starting; I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone buy so many CD’s at once.” Her bubbly enthusiasm was infectious, and slowly, Sam found himself relaxing.

“Thanks,” he said, scratching at his jaw absently.

“No problem. By the way, my name is Mika. Probably should’ve said that awhile ago but…” Trailing off, and once again brushing back that piece of hair, she looked at him expectantly.

“Sam,” he introduced stiffly, “I’m Sam.”

She must’ve smiled at him more than a half a dozen times now, but it didn’t stop her from sending another his way, just as dazzling as the others. “It’s nice to meet you, Sam.”

Fifteen minutes later, his CD’s were packed into shopping bags - three to be precise - and Sam was ready to head back to the mansion. Mika had offered to check him out, and she’d been incredibly patient as he floundered with the currency James had left him. Seeing his distress, she’d taken his money and counted out exactly how much he owed, despite the growing line behind them.

“Thanks… again,” he muttered lamely, collecting his change off the counter.

“It’s ok. You did have quite the bill,” she laughed brightly, scribbling something down on the last CD before dropping it into one of the bags. “I hope your friend enjoys the music, by the way.”

“Whaddaya mean?” Sam questioned, and she arched a brow.

“The music. It’s not for you, is it?” She drummed her fingers against the wood tabletop.

“I mean I don’t want to assume but…” He swallowed as she appraised his appearance with gentle curiosity - his vest, ripped shirt, and silver dog tags - before meeting his gaze with keen eyes, “You don’t look like you’re into Classical.”

Sam felt heat crawl up his neck and into his face. He dragged a hand through his hair in what he hoped seemed like a controlled action, awkwardly trying to regain a grasp on the situation.

It would be easier if she’d just stop looking at him like that.

She waved off his stuttered attempt at an explanation with a shake of her head. “It’s fine. I hope you’ll come back again soon, though. Maybe then I’ll get a chance to find out what kind of music you like to listen to.” The invitation to return had his heart sputtering wildly in his chest.

“Hey, lovebirds! Can we hurry it up please?” an aggravated voice shouted behind him in line, and Sam choked.

He whipped his head around. “We’re not-!” he began hoarsely - mainly because all the air in his lungs seemed to have disappeared - but Mika cut him off.

“Tony, be nice. We’re not going to have a repeat of last month’s karaoke night, are we?”

Laughter erupted in the line, and the man -Tony? - grumbled angrily.

Mika leaned on her forearms against the countertop, shielding the side of her mouth with her hand. “Had to be ‘removed from the premises’ when he flipped over a patio table,” she whispered under her breath, amusement dancing in her green eyes, and Sam smirked. Mika bit her lip to keep from giggling, hoping to maintain some form of professionalism as he picked up his bags and headed for the door.

“Thanks for stopping by!” Mika called from behind the counter with a little wave, and Sam’s heart gave one last loud thump at her brilliant smile. He nodded with a hesitant grin, and suddenly he was out on the sidewalk.

Sam blinked, turning to look back in through the large window, and saw Mika was already helping the next customer. It was the man who’d interrupted them, and by the way he was hanging his head and her stern finger wagging, she was letting him have it.

Chuckling, he walked back to the bus stop and was right on time to catch the next one out. He was lucky enough to score a seat this time around too, and gratefully dropped the bags of CD’s on the floor underneath him.

Sam quickly craned his neck to get one last look at the store. Mika was partially blocked by the angle, but he could tell she was talking animatedly to someone, and smiling just as warmly as she had before. Then she was gone, enveloped in a cloud of black fumes as the bus pulled away.

Sam shifted in his chair, trying to get comfortable, but while the smell wasn’t as bad this time around, the noise was still insufferable. With a groan, he gave up. Desperate to distract himself, Sam noted the bags on the floor and shrugged, leaning down and yanking one open.

Shuffling through the contents, he examined the cover art and odd titles until he finally came across a case at the bottom of the bag that made him pause. The artwork appeared to be graphics of chain link over a black background with bold, white text. That wasn’t what caught his eye, though.

Sam’s brows rose as he read one of the only English words he knew: his human name. Written on a piece of tape stuck to the front, it pointed with a little arrow, indicating he should open the case. He did so, and found a small, handwritten note scrawled on a fold of paper that had his ears burning:

Sam: “You seem like a rock kind of guy. Here’s an album by Rise of the Phoenix. I think you’ll like them! Let me know, ok? ♪ (XXX) XXX-XXXX ♫” - Mika

He couldn’t quite make out all of the text, but he sure as hell could recognize a phone number. Grinning to himself like an idiot, Sam let the bag of CD’s drop back to the ground below his seat but held tight to the one Mika had left especially for him.

He’d meet up with Damien in the library to start practicing first thing tomorrow. After he listened to a certain album.