Welcome to Gaia! ::

There were several wonderful things about working at Big Willy's. The first and most obvious thing was that, whenever she had a shift, she got to be surrounded by music all day. The second, less obvious thing was that Big Willy knew a lot about music, and he liked to laugh. This was nice because his laugh was always loud and hearty, and his great round belly jiggled like Santa Clause's with the force of it. The third was that the humble corner store sat directly across the street from her apartment building, so it never took very long to get home.

She didn't have to wear a uniform or some silly blue apron. No, Big Willy didn't bother with expenditures like that. "Uniforms rob a person of their individuality," Big Willy would bark in that casually contemplative way of his, "don't need them here when the clothes I have do just fine any other time."

Vanessa, who was busily chewing a piece of gum and doodling on her arms with a marker, looked up from her position behind the register when the bells that hung over door the chimed. At the site of Fallon she smiled. It was a big, genuine grin that reached all the way to her eyes.

"Of course!" She chirped enthusiastically, taking the gum from her mouth and flicking it at the nearest trash bin. "That's what I get paid to do, but I would help you even if I didn't work here. The sign out front says this is a record store, and we do have a bunch of those, but we also sell all the other goods too."

According to Big Willy, business wasn't what it used to be. Over the course of the passed few years he'd been forced to expand the personality of his merchandise. The old records were kept in decorative milk crates at the centre of the room, arranged according first to genre and then alphabetical order according to artists. Along the left wall, which was farthest from the cashier, a colourful collection of movies sat on racks nailed to the wall, sporting everything from rentable VHS copies of 'On the Waterfront' to purchasable, never-been-used-before (Big Willy was so proud) DVD and Blue-ray blockbuster films. At the back of the room were racks of graphic tees, wallets, wrist bands and other band-related paraphernalia. Hundreds upon hundreds of CDs made themselves at home in handy trays that were stacked like stairs on the right side of the store, organized in the same fashion as the old records.

"Was there anything in particular you were looking for?"

At the back of the store Big Willy, mumbling absently to himself and scratching his head, disappeared into a back room.

The auburn haired girl was certainly no rocket scientist, but her failure to recognize that Big Willy's was clearly not Fallon's regular sort of place had less to do with her intelligence level than it did with her blind love of people. Extremely sociable, and occasionally loud and rowdy, Vanessa was a lively and exuberant rocket of smiles and well-meaning jokes. She should have been able to tell by the clothes Fallon was wearing and the way she adjusted the leaflets on the counter that the other girl was a little out of her element, but Vanessa, a girl who was comfortable pretty much anywhere, simply didn't think like that. She didn't think very much at all, in fact.

It surprised her slightly when Fallon opened up about a friendship that had drifted apart, and Vanessa did little more than stare in wide-eyed and thoughtful courtesy.

"Wasn't vague at all," Vanessa protested amiably with a gentle wave of her hands, and, scooting out from behind the counter, gestured at the colourful collection of merchandise that decorated Big Willy's store. Fallon hadn't exactly given her useful information, but it was more than she'd expected, and rather particular. It wasn't everyday somebody admitted to being desperate, and Vanessa's heart went out to the girl who was attempting to buy back her friend.

It occurred to her that this might not be the best idea, but maybe Fallon was attempting to compensate for a mistake she'd made- like when men on TV bought their women chocolates.

"That's awful nice of you, to buy a gift for him when you say that you aren't very close anymore. Did you have a fight?"

She was prying, a little, but not because she was nosy. Curious was a better word.

"I got in a fight with Steven once and he broke my skateboard. I told him that he had to buy me a new one- but Steven is not my friend. We hate each other, actually." She thought about it for a second and then added, "But I would probably buy a friend something, to apologize if I'd done something mean."

"If you never talked about music with this guy- how do you know that he even likes it?" Vanessa cocked an inquisitive eyebrow. Then she grinned, certain that she'd caught on, and winked at Fallon in a manner that clearly suggested she'd understood something. "You're in love with him, aren't you? You're in love with this guy, but you don't really know him and that's why you told me you drifted apart, even though you don't know what music he listens to."

Talking was one of Vanessa's talents. She had a long wind, and could go for hours if comfortable enough and she was almost always comfortable enough. It was a part of why Big Willy, who didn't talk very much at all, had hired her so readily. Vanessa had been coming around the store for years before she'd been old enough to actually work there, dragging a tiny John Jr by the hand; the pair of them usually devouring some flavour of ice cream cone as they wandered around his store. Big Willy had allowed them to stay all day if it suited them, as he was on familiar terms with their father and knew that Mr. Rae couldn't always afford to pay for a babysitter. Since the day that he'd met her, when she'd been no bigger than ten years old, Vanessa had chatted Big Willy's ear off.

For Vanessa the music store was a bit of a second home, and Big Willy like a father. Or uncle. Or grandfather. Or something.

"No fight, huh?" there was a genuinely empathetic note to Vanessa's voice as she repeated what Fallon had said, "That bites. Have you ever tried just telling him how you feel about drifting apart? If it was me, I would tell him how I felt- and then maybe I'd punch him for forgetting about me."

It wasn't a lie.

Then, with her brow furrowed and tongue sticking out of the side of her mouth in concentration, Vanessa ventured through her mental catalogue of Big Willy's music collection.

"Weeeell, we've got all the bigs. The Beatles. Michael Jackson. Could you guess if he'd like rock or country? Heavy-metal or alternative? Pop? Classical, maybe? There's also a couple of old records with swing and ragtime on 'em- but kids don't generally listen to those very much anymore. Also a couple of records from the 70's and 80's and, you know, whenever records were popular. Or do you want CDs?"

"Really, you'd be surprised what a good punch can do to calm your nerves," Vanessa babbled conversationally. This was what she did. She was good at it. However, it did also occur to her that all this talk about hitting things might give Fallon the wrong impression and, not wanting to come across as a total thug, she cleared her throat. "I mean, there isn't anything better than some action to fix stress. Its like an earthquake, see?"

Big Willy, who'd come out of the back room and was heading towards the cash register, snorted audibly. He had seen Vanessa's report card. He knew the grades she'd received in all of her science classes for the last couple of years.

She stuck her tongue out at his back before turning back to Fallon, "If pressure builds up, it has to go somewhere- and the fastest way to let it out, I find, is to hit something, or bang things."

It wasn't the best advice to give anyone and Vanessa was most definitely not qualified to give it, but she had an unpredictable and very hostile temper. She had broken more windows and thrown more glasses than all the people in their apartment complex put together, but that had been years ago. Since then, she and her father had worked out a safer and more practical strategy, since Vanessa never actually meant any harm and usually felt awful the next morning. Nothing helped her relax better than a nice jam session with her drum set. This was also why John Jr. kept multiple sets of earplugs in his pockets.

Then, as Fallon spoke, a particular word caught Vanessa's ear and she grinned, golden eyes twinkling mischievously, at the other girl, "Your friend likes to drink, does he? Did you consider getting him some booze?"

Big Willy, who wasn't keen on losing any business, scowled at Vanessa over Fallon's shoulder. She turned slightly pink, but otherwise pretended not to notice him.

"There are a couple record players in the back. They're Big Willy's favourites. If he had a choice, he wouldn't listen to music any other way. I could show you, if you like?"

Fallon's age came as no real surprise to Vanessa, who had not presumed to know anything about the other girl based on her appearance. She flashed a cheshire grin at Fallon and, leaning a little closer so that she would not be overheard by Big Willy, murmured; "If I could get somebody to buy the alcohol for you, would you maybe be interested in that?"

She glanced cautiously over her shoulder, watched as Big Willy thumbed through the leaflets Fallon had so industriously arranged earlier and then tossed them back on the counter with little consideration for the cinnamon girl's effort, and then turned back to her customer. "I might ask you to buy something cheap from the store still- I'll give you a 50% discount on something, just 'cause I don't want Big Willy to be upset with me for getting in the way of business."

Vanessa didn't care that Fallon was making Andeon sound like an alcoholic. She didn't generally have much of a reason to drink herself, but the types of friends Fallon liked to keep certainly wasn't any of her business.

"Its up to you," she said with a good-natured shrug and pointed in the direction of the back room, which was separated from the front of the store by a curtain of vibrantly coloured beads, with her chin, "They're right through here. Follow me."

"I can get the alcohol for you, then," Vanessa informed the younger girl, whispering as low as it was possible for her naturally booming and penetrative voice to go, "Vodka, right? Hairy Pete could pick it up for you, no problem. I dunno where he lives or anything, but he's a good guy- usually hangs out outside the store, actually. You might have seen him on your way in."

Clearly, Vanessa never turned down an opportunity to make friends. She had known Hairy Pete for years and, while she didn't know his real name, had shared many a conversation with the homeless man she usually bribed to buy her fireworks. Vanessa was certain he wouldn't have any qualms about buying her alcohol either.

"Oh!" her golden eyes lit up when Fallon mentioned buying her friend a shirt, and she made a little detour towards the metal racks on their way to the back room. "This," she said as she pulled out a black tee and held it up to show the other girl, "is my favourite. I have one just like it at home."

The phrase 'I'm naked under here' was printed across the chest in white block letters.

"Yep, that was probably him," Vanessa confirmed with a noncommittal nod of her head. "I'll pop outside with you after we're done in here, and we'll get Pete to go pick up the stuff. Trust me, you can trust him."

She watched Fallon explore the racks the shirts hung from, and giggled companionably whenever it was appropriate. The t-shirt with the unicorns on it was another one of her particular favourites, but one she could never get away with wearing at home.

At the Shakespeare tee, she wrinkled her nose in distaste. Vanessa didn't write any poems. Nor did she read Shakespeare outside of english class. The joke was lost to her. Her eyes lit up, however, when Fallon confirmed that she was not going to buy just one t-shirt, but two.

She tilted her head to the side, considering Fallon closely for the first time since she'd walked into the store. "This is a very nice thing you're doing, for your friend. If this doesn't work- if it doesn't do what you want it to, then you deserve better."