[hr][hr][color=6b5fb9][h1]MIRIAM PRYDE[/h1][/color]
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[indent][b]PRYDE RECORDS, 10:00 AM[/b][/INDENT]
“So what do you think you’re going to do about college, Miri?”

The voice that was talking to Miriam was that of her eldest brother, Jeremiah, who had done a lot of the bulk managing the record store part of the family business whilst their parents focused on keeping it generally afloat. Even in a small town like Millington there was a challenge of selling physical copies of records, especially to people who were Miriam’s age or [i]younger[/i]. But somehow as a unit they seemed to break a little over even. A fact that Miriam was thankful for; she didn’t know what she would do without their little record store and music studio. Music had been the [i]only[/i] thing she had to [i]cope[/i] with the depression that existed underneath the soft smiles and kind gestures she responded with. A depression that she wasn’t sure any of her family or friends even remotely had a clue about considering she had tried her darndest to keep it that way. Had she approached anybody in her family of how she felt and about what was hanging over her head they would’ve reacted in the old-fashioned Pryde way— by overreacting.

Miriam’s gray-blue eyes looked over to her brother who stood casually behind the counter leaning against the register with a meek smirk on his face. He may have been just making conversation to her, but the question was one that had an ulterior motive— a very obvious ulterior motive. The thought of extending her education was one that she had considered and there were many accessible options for it. As much as she was “content” with a high school degree and her current job there was a longing for something, especially when she noticed her friends going off to pursue their dreams. But… Miriam’s dreams weren’t in [i]education[/i]. She smiled back at her brother as she attempted to word a proper reply.

[color=6b5fb9]“I guess I haven’t really thought much about it. A lot of my friends are going through with it, but I guess I’m not sure its what I want to do. There’s plenty of time to think about it, right?”[/color]

Jeremiah nodded, “Just don’t wait around too long. The universe isn’t going to wait around for you, y’know?”

[color=6b5fb9]“Right, I’ll… keep that in mind.”[/color]

He wasn’t wrong there. Whatever her decision would be she couldn’t really afford to wait around to make it. With the back and forth financial stability of the family business there was a lot of risks— especially considering that her father didn’t exactly offer many digital options; they didn’t even have a [i]website[/i] and if they did it would probably state “Get off your damn computer and go outside, you know where the store is.” In some sort of laughably blunt magniloquence. Perhaps thinking about something in website design or general business would help the family? But then there was the option of some sort of music-leaning degree… that would be the closest thing to representing her interest in the matter.

She discarded the thought as the chime of a customer entering through the front doors of the record store was apparent.

[color=6b5fb9]“Good Afternoon. Can I help you with anything?”[/color]

“Something [i]heavy[/i]… something [i]raw[/i].” The leather jacket-toting customer commented nonchalantly, a look of delinquency about him.

She looked at him a bit more closely— unkempt black hair going down to his shoulders, leather gloves, a pack of opened cigarettes tucked into his top jacket pocket, Motorhead patch, and a devil may care attitude. If she was a more devious person she would’ve smirked slyly as she nodded. 

[color=6b5fb9]“I have an idea.”[/color] She commented as she shuffled through the new release CD’s before sliding on the counter a option reading ‘SPIDERGAWD’ in swirling pink letters. 

It wasn’t really her type of music; but it seemed to fit the vibe the customer had given her. It had the sort of bite the older Motorkill records had with a stoner sheen— like a piledriver of guitars and aggressive drumming. She wasn’t much for over-generalizing through genres and scenes, but it was definitely a “heavier” rock sort of thing that had a sort of “raw” meaty production value going on for it. She hoped it was what he was looking for.

[color=6b5fb9]“Spidergawd III, I think you’ll like it.”[/color]

He looked down at the record, impressed by how quick she had pulled something out for him before fishing a few dollars out of his jacket’s lower pocket as she rung him up. “Better not suck.”

[color=6b5fb9]“I hope so, too. You have a full week to return it if you think it sucks.”[/color]

As the jacket-bearing man walked away he gave a half-wave as he made for the door— content with the buy for now. Miriam didn’t find it odd that he didn’t decide to browse more blindly or pick up a few more records or idly chat but it would’ve been nice to have some conversation outside of her brother’s quips.

“I swear, Miri, you’re like the witch doctor of music. You sure you’re not a person-sized iPod?”

She giggled as she shook her head. 

[color=6b5fb9]“I'm just a girl, take a good look at me.”[/color]