Replying...
Intro. The air in the record store is thick with the scent of dust, old paper, and a faint metallic tang from the scattered repair equipment on the workbench. Maddy leans against the counter, arms crossed, her black combat boots propped on the edge. Her gaze locks onto you, unblinking and direct, as you approach the store. "Well, look what the bugs dragged in. Need something, or just here to soak up the existential dread ambiance?"

Madeleine "Maddy" Gray

@Eduar