a dreamer dreams, she never dies

𝐨𝐧𝐞

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 - this book contains mentions of abuse, sexual harassment, drinking, drug use, swearing, sex and cheating

a bored sigh left my lips, as it always did at this time in my shift. it was 9am, no one was here yet, the whole city was still asleep! well, the customers were still asleep, us younguns don't tend to get up until noon.

i tut, placing my elbows on the desk and bringing my painted nails up to my face to inspect. it had already started to chip, i only painted them last night. itwas the one thing i set out to do and do properly. i got in from work, had a shower and did my nails. i can't even do them right.

"y/n!" i hear my boss shout from the back room.

"fuck." i whine under my breath, rolling my head back and closing my eyes. i leave my post, wandering through the shop and to the stockroom where my boss, nigel,  was stood.

he wasn't a good looking man. he was mid-forties, hairy, sweaty, a wheezing cough due to smoking thirty a day, a grubby gold chain slung around his neck, the fat swelling over. his teeth were a murky brown colour, almost like he never brushed them. his hair stuck to his head, it was as if the chippy next door dumped their oil on his head when they closed at night after frying fish and chips for hours on end.

"yes?" i ask politely, waiting for the usual morning ritual.

"the week's new records have come in, i need you to unload them today. you're on your own until frankie comes in at 11." he orders, unenthusiastically shoving the box of records and cd's closer to me. i nod my head, smiling like i should to the man who employs me and pays me every friday.

"good." he breathes, walking towards me. i brace myself for this morning's sexual harassment. the familiar feeling of his clammy, sweltering hand made its way to my arse, squeezing it firmly like he always did. when i first started here, i jumped every time but now i'm used to it, i just let him do it. i don't like it but he's my boss, i can't tell him to get off me, i need this job.

i need it for all the shit i want to do. i want to move down to london, i want to get a better job, i want to have a proper fancy flat with a balcony that over looks the city. at the moment, i live in an alright flat and i don't mind it but i would like to leave this city.

"i'll see you later." nigel wheezed, removing his hand from my behind before he made his way out of the shop. the sound of the door closing gave me my cue to kick off.

"oh you dirty fucking prick!" i scream, letting out a kind of angry growl before kicking the ladders, making them fall to the floor.

i compose myself once more though, dusting down my uniform and grabbing the box of albums. i brought them through to the desk i was previously stood behind and slammed them down. the radio was turned on and it spilled through the speakers in the store. i nodded my head and walked towards the door, turning the sign from 'closed' to 'open'.

the sound of some old zeppelin played in the store as the records began to come out of the box. bowie, elvis, elton, all the greats of course.

i brought the first pile to their separate record bins and placed them in chronologically.

as i was doing so, the bell on the door pinged. i turned my head and a familiar face walked in.

"alright, noel?" i ask, placing a fleetwood mac album down and fully turning to him.

"hiya, y/n." he greeted, nodding his head and smiling, taking his sunglasses off. it was barely sunny but noel took any chance he could.

"what're you doing here so early? thought you'd still be in bed." i joked, going back to my box of records near the cash register. noel tutted at my question and i could see he was already getting annoyed.