Y/N

_

NOTHING BEATS waking up from a good night's sleep, and knowing you're going to get your butt kicked.

Actually, I take that back, there are alot of things better than that. But unfortunately, none of those 'better' things applied to me. I spent the night in the attic of Rinks, sleeping on an inflatable mattress hidden in the stacks of vintage records.

Finn said he usually stayed in the space whenever he had to work late nights. It was comfortable, but it didn't last long.

Well, that's because I woke up to 207 messages from Jane, asking where the hell I was. Not to mention the messages from my bandmates, the messages from my mother, the messages from father, and just ugh. Messages.

Swiping into my phone, I clicked on my driver's contact, and waited for the dial to start ringing. He answered almost instantaneously.

"Hey, Henry," I yawned, stumbling onto my feet, "can you come pick me up?"

He didn't sound amused through the phone, "Jane's been looking for you."

"I know."

"Send me your location, and I'll be on my way."

"Thanks, Pal," I sighed, hanging up.

Grabbing my sweater up from the floor, I pulled it around my shoulders, and let out a puff of cold air. Jeez, it was frickin' cold in Vancouver. Deflating the mattress, I rolled it back up and tucked it into the corner it belonged in.

Clambering down the stairs, I passed by the stacks of records, raising my arms up into the air above me.

"Gooooooodbye!" I yelled at the top of my lungs, straining out every vowel, "see ya' never, Rink Records!"

Even though the store provided me shelter, and some temporary peace, I didn't expect myself to ever go back. Once I stepped outside of that door, I was back to my usual life: [y/n] [l/n], the indie-pop artist.

The life where I was about to get yelled at by my manager.

"Where the HELL have you been?" Jane exclaimed, storming down the stadium hallway.

As soon as Henry dropped me off at the stage door, I got hit with this. I deserved it, honestly. I really did. I skimped out on my responsibilities, for a few hours of temporary solace.

I even let a stranger poke a needle through my ear! Damn, I was a reckless teen last night.

"I took a vacation day," I smiled sickly, "what did I miss?"

Jane didn't find that joke funny. She took a moment to make herself calm, but I could still see a vein almost popping out of her head. Fun.

"Do you know how much damage control I had to do last night?" she hissed, "covering up for missing the interview, and ditching your bandmates onstage!"

"The show was over, Jane."

"None of that matters!"

"Neither did my broken eardrum either, apparently," I spat out, "I'm tired of you denouncing my actual problems, just because Vanity Fair wanted to see me take a lie detector test!"

She opened her mouth to say something, but she knew I was right. Obviously, she wasn't going to admit it, so like the typical person she was, she changed the conversation.

"You have rehearsal for your final show here," she huffed, pointing towards the stage, "don't keep them waiting any longer."

Narrowing my eyes, I brushed past her, storming onto the stage.

As soon as I stepped foot on the Marley, I heard people yell my name. Niall, my bassist, Sadie, my drummer, and Harry, my lead guitarist, were all waving for me to come over.

"Hey, guys," I said, taking off my sweater and tossing it onto the platform, "what are we starting with?"

Niall laughed, "oh, we aren't talking music right now."

"Excuse me?"

"We're talking about yesterday night," he smirked, "where'd you run off to?"

I rolled my eyes, snatching my mint-green Stratocaster up from the stand. I should have known. My group of friends were a bunch of old-timey gossips, and wanting to know where I went was definitely on brand for them.

"And why did some techies tell me your face was all bloody?" Sadie yelled from across the stage, leaning her elbow onto her soundbox.

"Thanks to that faulty earpiece," I explained, "the sound turned full volume on the encore, and tore my eardrum."

"You're joking!"

"I didn't just run away, there was a reason, duh."

"You fixed it, right?" Harry yawned, "the show's in five hours, and it'd be hell if you split it again."

I grinned, my fingers running against the strings of my guitar. Turning my head to stare at the empty stadium, I remembered the song that played around the shop last night. Elenore, by the turtles. Good song.

"Yeah," I nodded, "interesting story involving that."

"Then spill it," Niall pressed, "tell us the deets."

"Just because you said the word 'deets', I'm not telling you."

"Just tell us!"

"Fine, fine, stop talking and I will," I laughed.

I slung my guitar onto my back, my hand brushing against the spine for safety. Niall, Harry, and Sadie all leaned into their chairs, eager to know what I had to say. I wasn't sure how to phrase it, but I just let my mouth run wild.

"After I ran out of the stage door, I got mobbed by the crowd," I started, "so I ended up running into this vintage record shop a couple blocks down."

"Did you buy me something?" Harry yelled out, a smirk on his face.

"No, I did not," I smirked back, "but I did meet someone who stitched my ear back up."

Sadie wrinkled her nose, "like an old doctor person?"

"No, a teenager like me."

"A BOY?" all three of them yelled, hopping out of their seats.

It was like I pressed some imaginary button, and they all got thrown out of their chairs at the same time. Gosh, my bandmates were so overdramatic, but I loved them. I was about to question how they knew it was a boy, but I decided just to continue.

"His name is Finn," I smiled, "he was really nice to me, actually."

"Did you guys kiss?" Harry teased, cupping his hands around his mouth, "woot woot!"

"Oh, shut up, Styles."

"Wouldn't be the first time you sucked face with a stranger!"

"That was one time!" I yelled back, my face flushed red with embarrassment, "and it was just because we got stuck in an elevator and thought we were going to die!"

"Good thing you didn't," Niall added on, "or we wouldn't have heard the story!"

"Will you boys zip it? She's trying to tell the story," Sadie hushed, rolling her eyes.

"There really wasn't anything after that, though," I admitted sheepishly, "I just asked to crash at the shop, and he said yes, and that was it. He was gone when I woke up."

Saying it out loud made me realize how anticlimactic the story actually was. When I was there, it felt like I was having the time of my life, singing vintage tunes and  letting a cute boy tell me all about his feelings towards Willow.

But it really only lasted an hour.

"I think fate led you to that record store," Niall swooned, clutching his heart, "out of all the places to go, you managed to find one with a cute boy."

"I never told you he was cute!" I frowned.

"You wouldn't be blushing if he wasn't."

"I appreciate a personality just as much as the next person, so don't even start with me, Horan."

"Alright, you crazies," Sadie giggled, "we're leaving tomorrow night, and we need to actually practice our setlist before the show."

"Which means you probably won't see your lover boy ever again," Harry pouted, "how unfortunate."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," I sighed, rolling my eyes, "let's start with Roma."

As Harry began to pluck out the first few notes on his guitar, I ran over to my sweater for my guitar pick. I always kept a few spares in my left pocket.

"I took a train from Florence," the boy began to start, "expecting nothing more."

"But that was all before the time you walked in through the door," I mumbled under my breath.

Digging through my pockets, I stopped when I realized there was something inside. It wasn't a guitar pick, I knew that for sure. Pulling it out, I gazed at a tiny thin note card, with a familiar logo printed on the front.

"And like a summer's sunshine," I continued, "your light was all that I adored."

It was a coupon.

BUY 2 VINYLS FOR THE PRICE OF 1, it read, ONLY AT RINK RECORDS.

"Of course," I whispered under my breath, the smile on my face uncontrollable, "I should have known."