The Sound

Part 3 - Jules

I was at home, getting ready for work. I liked dressing up for concert nights, meticulously picking out the earrings I aligned in my ears and spending extra time on my makeup. I swiped eyeliner above my lashes, humming along to the Tears for Fears album I had playing in my room. There was a soft knock at my door.

"Come in!" I called. My eccentric father opened the door, smiling wildly. "Hey, pops!"

"Hey, kiddo – just wanted to say bye before I left for my shift." He crossed over, kissing the top of my head. My dad was a scientist at the local lab – he had a penchant for night shifts, insisting that it was the time of day when he was the smartest.

"Well, isn't that nice," I responded, making him smile. He sat on the edge of my bed as I continued to apply makeup. "Guess who I saw last night?"

"Big Foot?"

"Your favorite nephew!"

"Ah, my only nephew," he responded, making me laugh. I nodded. I paused before saying the next piece.

"Apparently he's friends with that guy I work with," I said this quietly, looking ahead to the mirror. "The one I've told you about?"

"The asshole?" My dad, while a kind man, was direct. "That's disappointing."

I laughed, nodding my head.

"I just thought it was interesting, especially because Dustin's such a sweet kid," I pondered, wanting my dad's insight. He shrugged before standing, walking back over to me.

"Well, maybe there's more to the asshole than we are currently privy to," he said this nonchalantly before patting my shoulder. "It never hurts to be kind to people, Jules. Even if they don't deserve it."

I smiled, nodding at him. He was who had instilled my kind spirit, always teaching me to treat people with respect and love. He kissed the top of my head again before heading out for his shift. I finished getting ready, pairing a red flannel with a crop top and ripped jeans, determined to be kind to Eddie Munson, even if it killed me.

Or if he killed me.

---

I swung the front doors of The Sound open, grinning at the exiting customers. I placed my bag behind the counter, tucking my hair behind my ears before heading back to the office. I opened the door, ready to punch in, stopping when I saw Eddie and Alan talking.

"Hey, guys!" I tried to be cheery, but I could tell I had interrupted something. I slunk across the room, marking my timecard. Eddie huffed out of the room, not responding to me. I was suddenly paranoid, wondering if Eddie was complaining about me to Alan.

"What was that about?" I asked. Alan looked up from his desk, smiling brightly.

"Nothing – we were just catching up." I could sense that he wasn't telling me the whole story and my paranoia grew.

"About how much Eddie hates me?" I asked, walking back towards the door. Alan snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Eddie does not hate you. I promise. Go help him get things set up."

I groaned, heading back out to the store, wondering what he meant by "I promise".

Eddie was maneuvering different chairs around, lining them up for patrons to sit on during the concert. He wasn't wearing his jacket, just a tight, white shirt – his lean, defined arms were flexing as he lifted the furniture. I couldn't help but admire his tattoos – all black and grey, mostly skulls and dragons, the occasional script. My favorite were the bats on his forearm; I had noticed those a while ago.

"You going to help, or am I going to do all the work as usual?" Eddie quipped. I rolled my eyes – it was disappointing someone as cute as him was as mean as he was. I swallowed my frustration and smiled brightly.

"I'll help!" I chirped, following his suit in organizing the chairs. We were side by side, working in silence again. Eddie groaned when I dropped a chair that was too heavy for me, and I bristled.

"It never hurts to be kind to people, Jules. Even if they don't deserve it."

I took a deep breath, looking to Eddie.

"Kind of cool that you know my cousin," I offered. He didn't look at me. I continued to rearrange the rows. We sat in silence for a while, and I tried to think of what to say.

"You guys have different last names."

I almost jumped out of my skin – Eddie responded to me. I looked at him, and he was glancing at me from the corner of his eyes. I smiled.

"Yeah – his mom is my dad's sister. When she got married, she took her husband's last name. My dad kept their last name," I replied, trying not to get too animated about telling any stories to him – something I knew he hated. He nodded, a look of realization coming across his face.

"That makes sense."

I paused, wondering if I should stop while I'm ahead. I rolled my flannel sleeves up as I crossed to the front counter – this was the area we always converted into a bar. I sorted through the different bottles of liquor Alan had bought, organizing them to allow us easier access to pouring drinks. Eddie was suddenly behind the counter with me, helping me unpackage the different liquors.

"He's a really good kid."

My brows furrowed as I looked up at him. I was confused. He glanced at me before turning his attention back to the bottles.

"Dustin. He's a good kid," he explained. My expression softened as I smiled. "Really good at Dungeons and Dragons, too."

"That's awesome," I remarked, wanting to ask him a barrage of questions. I didn't, remaining quiet, knowing how much Eddie hated my questions. I was confused by his sudden interaction with me but hoped that it meant we could at least become acquaintances.

His hand brushed against mine when we both reached for the plastic glasses, and he ripped his back quickly. I flushed, embarrassed, looking up at him.

"Sorry – I promise I'm not radioactive," I tried to joke, hurt by how disgusted he apparently was by my touch.

"No, no, no – sorry," Eddie was suddenly stammering, so different than his normal icy exterior. He grinned widely, waggling his fingers in the air. "Super dry skin. Wouldn't want to give you a rash."

I returned his smile, noticing the calluses on his ringed fingers. I popped down, grabbing my bag, pulling a bottle of lotion out.

"What are you doing?"

I stood again, motioning for him to hold his hands out. I squeezed a dollop onto his palms.

"I always hate having dry skin. Thought that would help."

"I didn't say I wanted to fix it," Eddie snapped. I winced, looking down, putting the bottle back in my bag.

"Okay, sorry. I was just trying to be helpful." Eddie was so confusing – I didn't understand his constant animosity. I was wondering if my dad was wrong. He started rubbing his hands together, sighing deeply.

"You gave me too much," he commented. I looked up, unable to fake a smile. He smirked at me, reaching out for my hands, rubbing the excess on each of my hands between his large palms. His calluses scratched my hands, sending a jolt through me. His rings were cold, biting my skin. I watched his serious face, broken into an uncharacteristic grin. His normally intense, dark eyes were soft and kind. I started rubbing the lotion into my hands, confused by the sudden intimate interaction.

"You've got cool tattoos," Eddie complimented. Before I could thank him, he turned on his heel, stomping towards the back of the store to finish setting up.