Dan was twenty.

The humid summer air in the unconditioned record store he worked in made his brown hair look at least two shades darker with the amount of sweat residing in it, and his black t-shirt clung to his skin due to the dampness. Thankfully, the heat was making people stay in their houses, and not many people were around the see him like that.

An hour before closing, the bell above the door let out a tiny ding, and someone walked into the shop. At first, Dan didn't recognize them, but after a few minutes of watching them browsing, he realized it was Phil. He ran to the other side of the counter and flung the door to the storage room open, startling the only other person working there that day.

"What's wrong Dan?" he asked him, noticing his panicked look.

"Are you able to go out and man the counter for a bit? I'll do whatever you were doing. Just... please."

The guy simply shrugged, placed down the box he had been carrying, and went out to the front of the store. A couple of minutes later, Dan heard them talking, and couldn't help but to listen for a bit. He didn't hear the first part of their conversation, but he did hear Phil ask something about seeing someone he recognized and wondering if they worked there. He sounded a bit disappointed when the worker told him he had no idea what he was talking about, but Dan knew he was probably wrong, and dismissed it.

Why would anyone be disappointed not to see him? If anything, Dan thought he should have been happy about it. Sighing, he picked up the box again and decided not to think about it.