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Astan had thought he had broken himself of this silly behavior months ago, but apparently, he had been fooling himself. It had been an innocent enough trip at first. He had simply stopped by this place to pick up some vinyl, but now he somehow found himself in the CD section of the store, scouring the T-racks for his band's only disc. He had already looked through the Hard Rock, Country, Rap, Classical and Folk sections, and finding his band's debut effort under any of those genres would have been preferable to seeing it in the section where he now stood - Alternative. Yet, there it was. Astan sighed. The Tawdry Roadhogs were not alternative.

With a comedically covert look around the immediate vicinity, Astan pulled the lone Tawdry Roadhogs CD out of its place and tucked it under his arm, then turned with determination back toward Hard Rock.

Hmm. Someone was coming toward him. Astan halted his hasty retreat and sloppily shoved his CD in somewhere under the Zs. As much as it hurt his ego to leave it there, it was better that than being called out for what he was actually doing.

To further cover his actions, Astan inched back toward the Ts, flicking a wave at the green-haired woman nearby. "You like this stuff, eh?" It wasn't immediately clear why he was speaking to her at all, but the slightly disappointed note in his deep voice was similar to that in a child's who had just learned Santa Claus wasn't real. Yes, Astan was pouting over a total stranger's taste in music, among other things.

Of course he'd run into the one person keen on shelving things properly who didn't work here. Astan's apprehensive expression deepened the closer the woman got to his discarded CD, until he was finally forced to consciously wipe the grimace from his face before she truly looked at him.

"Yeah, it's pretty good stuff for a group without a label," he said airily, ignoring her disapproving tut while trying to sound nonchalant. "Rock. It doesn't really belong in this section. I only put it back because I remembered I owed my friend some money." It was a flimsy excuse considering the album only cost a few bucks, nor did the statement address why he had felt the need to shove it in the Zs.

Oh, jeez. His friends would have a field day if they could hear him now. For all of the illegal activities he had participated in over the years and had no problem with, pirating music was not one of them. Every download was like stealing food from your own mouth or ripping clothes off of your back. Astan didn't know a thing about copyright law, but that hadn't prevented him from rambling on about his version of it after hours of practice left him more prone to yakking than usual.

Still, this was a way out. He smiled, pulling himself out of his embarrassed slouch. "Sure, I wouldn't have a problem with that." The ball was in her court now. He only hoped she wasn't a plant. Astan didn't have the money to pay a fine, and although he was fairly certain he would do all right in prison, he definitely had better things to do with his time. He glanced around the store again, trying to determine if this petite woman had any accomplices bent on grabbing him when he tried to run from her potential accusations.

What now? He had already implied he was short on cash, which he technically was, but he was not too short to entertain a cute girl, or any girl for that matter. He doubted he would ever be too broke for that. There was another option, but Astan wasn't sure she'd agree to it, having only met him five minutes ago.

"All right," he drawled. "I know a place nearby, but it's usually pretty crowded. They'll get me in though and you too, if you want." They'd let him run a tab as well, if only for appearance's sake. He should have been hesitant to spend any significant amount of time with this woman, after all, all she had to do was check the liner notes of the CD in her hand to know how silly this entire situation was, but he couldn't pass up the challenge. Life was decidedly lacking in challenges lately. "I'm Astan," he said, further deepening the hole he found himself in.

Astan chuckled at the way she drew out his name, then went momentarily crosseyed as she bopped him on the nose. He watched her walk away for a bit, a distraction he was glad to have, but soon he realized he was being left behind. He hurried after her, trying hard not to lumber along like some toddler chasing its mother.

"Longway, eh?" he said when he had caught up, the smirk on his lips present in his voice as well. "Interesting. I've met a lot of Tiffanys and Ambers over the years, but never a Longway." He kind of assumed it was a surname, but he didn't mean to pry, only to tease.

"And you don't have to do that. This club... they'll let me pay for it all some other time. Anyway, I owe you for the CD," he added, keeping his voice down now that they were nearly at the register.

Fair enough. He might have preferred there be some sort of monetary exchange, but perhaps this would open up a chance for him to repay her in the future. Give him a reason to see her again after she ripped him a copy of his own CD. "Maybe I'll find a way to pay you back some other time then, Longway." He smiled and pushed at the shop's glass front door, holding it open for her.

"Follow me." Astan was all business as he led Longway out of the store and began the short three block trek west to Forty-Five, a club with an eclectic selection of live nightly music. Astan was a frequent patron when he didn't have better things to do, at least on the nights other rock acts took the stage. What better way to check out the competition? He didn't know who was playing tonight. Hopefully, whoever they were, they weren't awful.

He stayed silent for a short while, then asked, "So, you ever been to that place before?" which was as broad a question as he could think of. If he grilled her about more personal topics now, what would they talk about later? Frankly, she didn't look like the type to troll middle district music stores, but what did he know?