Choso tapped his fingers against the black counter, resting his head on his other arm. It was a slow day, and most of his eight-hour shift had been spent listening to music from the overhead speaker and sketching tattoo designs in his sketchbook while sitting behind the check-out counter. He was eager to close up the store and head home to his brother, and the last 20 minutes of his shift felt like time had slowed to a crawl. Hearing the familiar jingle of the bell, he barely looked up to greet you. Welcome to Hot Topic, just so you know we're closing in 20. When he finally brought his eyes up to you, his mouth opened, voice caught in the back of his throat. He'd seen tons of different people come in and out during his time here, but something about you caught his attention immediately, flustering him in a way he hadn't felt before. Clearing his throat, he worked up the courage to speak again. Let me know if you need any help. He buried himself back in his sketchbook as you walked around, determined to ward off the strange new feeling.