Downfall | Austin Butler

Chapter 3

and you're the only thing
that's going on in my mind
taking over my life a second time
- ugh!, the 1975

——

Now, no I wasn't a runner, nor a track star — but damn did I sprint out of that place like a whole gazelle. I guessed I could check off another —'never in my life did I ever thought'— moment.

The fact that I had to retreat from the only location in Los Angeles I considered a retreat besides my job of employment didn't sit well at all. Well, at least I stood by my moto to never ever run for a man. Instead, I ran away from said man. So, it didn't break any of my morals.

Funny enough, Marlon — God bless his soul — barely batted an eye when I came barreling into the shop looking like a sticky tomato, drenched in sweat from all the running. He just looked up at me, nodded, and then went back to his work like nothing happened. That man knew me like the way I knew every word from the script of the Rocky Horror Picture Show. My best talent. So, this was simply normal for him. God, I hoped I didn't have any pit stains on my light button up. My outfit was too cute to be ruined today.

After breathlessly drawing out a hello, I ran into the back bathroom to check myself and fix myself up before I set foot on the floor and got busy with the shelves. My hair looked even messier than before — sticking up like Albert Einstein. I quickly went to work, brushing through it with my fingers to tame before twisting it back up in a clip.

Eh. Whatever. At least it looked a little better.

Once I exited the bathroom and dropped off my tote for safekeeping — I walked out the back and brought up the cart of books I was entering into the system to be shelved for purchase. We got a few loads of new shit yesterday, so I had to look through it all. I heard Marlon handling a customer so I didn't bother walking up to the front to bull shit with him. Had to make myself look busy when people were around and all.

Finest professionalism.

But, boy did I love this place. Besides Sunshine Spot — which always held the top spot on my list of favorite locations — this came to a close second. Most people out there probably thought I was crazy for saying such a thing. Like why not the beach? Or the fucking Hollywood walk of fame or whatever? Nope. Not at all. Sorry — I mean they were talking to a coffee-aholic rightfully mixed with a book-aholic. If coffee and books fucked and decided to have babies, there would be millions of little mes running around.

Introducing everybody's worst nightmare. Wow. Scary. Or the most boring person alive — as some people liked to put it. But whatever, I enjoyed it. How me and Sydney were friends when she was far from boring? I didn't know. I guessed opposites attract or whatever they liked to say.

"Rianne!" Marlon suddenly hollered between the shelves, completely taking me out of my train of thought.

I almost ate shit and dropped the book in my hands that I'd been holding for the past few minutes, aimlessly staring off into space at the shelf I was working on. "Over here!" I called out once I got my shit together. Ever since the diner, Ken-Apollo was truly taking up every inch of my brain. I was already regretting not getting a second cup of coffee to go.

"Rianne?" He called again, this time with a hint of a question. Sometimes I forgot the poor man was deaf. I hollered again, but that didn't seem to help. A few seconds later and some shuffling he finally came around a curve and found me. "Oh? There you are." He observed what I was doing — looking surprised yet pleased at my work. "I hope these books are worth the shot," he said with an eye roll. "I swear, I don't understand your generation. Books used to be so good back then. Now they just write cheesy Hallmark shit. Don't tell Mar I said that though. She'll kick my ass."