The record store had been closed for hours, the shelves had been restocked and organized, the listening rooms and walkways had been swept clean, and a clear, black night was visible out the windows and doors of the aging building. The usually chaotic store was quiet, yet there was an excited energy emitting from the manager's office in the back of the store, where two employees sat next to each other on the worn, brown couch. One was leaned forward, his black leather jacket covered elbows on his knees, dark sunglasses covering his eyes as he muttered to himself under his breath. The other was wearing a blue plaid flannel shirt, a really faded S t-shirt, and was strumming his fingers across one knee while his other hand clutched the old beanie still covering his jet-black hair.
Suddenly, the door to the office opened abruptly, the blinds clanging loudly as they moved back and forth against the window. A young blonde woman with a high ponytail, a revealing black dress, a striking silver pendant around her neck came into view. "Joe?" she called questioningly, before stopping short of entering the room as she spotted Lucas and Jughead.
"Gina," the leather jacket-clad Lucas replied, his gaze fixed on her looming appearance in the doorway. He wrapped his knuckles together to appear more calm, as he heard her address him. Jughead stayed silent and appeared to not even be listening.
"Lucas, what are you doing in here?" Gina asked, with a thick tone of judgment in her voice, as she stared at him with a pointed look.
"My life has reached its pinnacle," Lucas replied, as he sat up straight and answered her question with unquestionable confidence. He reached up with one hand and pulled off his sunglasses in one quick and well-practiced swoop, as he lowered his chin to meet her knowing gaze.
"Joe's letting me close the store tonight," he revealed quietly, a pleased smirk on his lips.
"You're kidding," Gina replied after a moment of pause, expecting another joke or sarcastic comment to follow. Her eyes darted to Jughead, as the beanie-clad boy raised his fist to cover his mouth in an attempt to hide the growing smirk on his face to turn into a full-fledged laugh.
"I am not," Lucas replied evenly, successfully conveying his honesty to the blonde in front of him. Gina looked back at Lucas, the hint of playfulness completely absent from her face. "Big responsibility Lucas," she quipped.
"Yes, but Joe's rules are extremely simple," he started quickly, before thrusting his fist out in front of him, preparing to count out the rules for her. "Count money twice. Keep my hands off of his beer, cigars, and drumsticks," Lucas finished easily.
"My, my. How will you remember it all?" Gina said sarcastically as she turned to leave. "Good luck. Don't screw it up!" she nearly hollered at him as she exited the office and left out of the back door, the metal shutting loudly behind her.
"A responsibility like this requires the obedience of a saint," Lucas said, more to himself than anyone.
"And a saint you are not," Jughead revealed next to him, crossing his arms and pushing Lucas's shoulder as he leaned forward on his knees, mirroring his friends position as he tried to stifle his laughter. The two shared a look, with Lucas's face remaining thoughtful and stoic. Meanwhile, Jughead was giving him an exasperated look, as if to chastise him for waiting so long to break Joe's rules.
Minutes later, the once quiet office was filled with chaos, as the two boys had placed small piles of cash across the table, smoking cigars in both their mouths. Lucas was sitting behind Joe's desk, drumming along the piles of money like they were his own personal drum kit, occasionally reaching for one of the beer bottles in front of him, while Jughead headbanged his heart out on the couch across from him.
As the music continued to blast in the small room, Jughead continued rocking out, while Lucas reached into the desk for a paper to write down the total amount of the money to put in the bank bag. It was then that Lucas did a double take, as he felt a rather thick, folded paper in his hands. He looked down as his brow furrowed when he realized the paper was clearly some sort of official contract. His leaned down closer to get a better look, and his attention snapped to the top of the page, where the words "Music Town Records. Franchise Option Agreement" stood in large, bold, black lettering. No way, Lucas thought. We can't be a Music Town. Joe would never let this happen.
Lucas cut the music quickly, which earned him a glare from Jughead, who stood up and reached for the dial to turn the music back up. But as Jughead approached the desk, Lucas tossed the contract his way and was rewarded with Jughead's eyes nearly bugging out of his skull as his face went from confusion to shock to anger. He scrunched up his face before throwing the contract roughly behind him in frustration, while Lucas continued to search through the drawer where the contract was.
"What the hell?" Jughead continued, gesturing wildly between the contract and Lucas. When he realized Lucas wasn't paying attention he moved to stand behind him at the desk. Lucas had produced a picture of the front of the Empire Records store, and there was a transparency attached to it. When Lucas filled the transparency over the store image, there before the two boys, was a mock-up of what Empire Records would look like when it became a Music Town.
"You've gotta be kidding," Lucas muttered, as the two just stared at the image before them, the future of their beloved teenage existence crumbling before their very eyes.
Jughead was the first to break the silence. "No way, man! Just no way! The Empire will not be crushed by the weight of capitalism. Not on my watch!" Jughead was nearly screaming now, moving in front of the desk to pace back and forth in rather calculated circles, a crazy fire behind his dark eyes, while his face was set in a calculated anger, his thoughts running as fast through his head Lucas might as well have been able to reach out and catch them.
Lucas never removed his gaze from the image, by now used to Jughead's passionate rants about social justice. He took a small breath before glancing up at his friend, a façade of seriousness invading his features as his eyes narrowed to slits and he spoke in a strong voice.
"In the immortal words of The Doors, 'The time to hesitate is through.'" Lucas waited until Jughead stopped pacing and turned towards him, nodding confidently. Lucas then jumped into action, standing up and collecting the money into one big pile before stuffing it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket.
Wait, what are you gonna do?" Jughead asked quickly as he adjusted his beanie, following Lucas out of the small office and through the same back door Gina disappeared out of. "Seriously Lucas?! You can't just take the money! We need to come up with a plan!" the beanie-clad boy was frantically ranting know, not even bothering to keep his anger in check or his voice down, despite the late hour. Lucas's silence was not helping. "Lucas, come on. What are you doing?" Jughead asked seriously, a tone of desperation seeping through his deep voice.
Lucas stopped when he reached his motorcycle, mounted it and put on his driving goggles, before looking to Jughead who was just standing beside him impatiently waiting for an answer. Lucas simply shrugged and said, "Going to make some money," before revving his engine and taking off out of the makeshift parking lot towards the main road.
Jughead jaw dropped slightly as he watched his friend go in mild disbelief. And Betty thinks I'm reckless. Jughead just shook his head as the gravel dust settled around him. With a deep sigh, he headed off towards his bike, mentally preparing for a long night of planning to find a way to circumvent this whole Music Town business. He was not going to lose another landmark and amazing hang out spot and one of a kind music store that was actually providing a fully cultural music experience to this Podunk town. As he started the engine and took off in the opposite direction of Lucas, he couldn't help but silently wish his wisdom filled friend could pull off a miracle. May the craps playing odds be ever in his favor.
***
One and half hours later, Lucas was speeding down the highway, the wind whipping behind him, as the bright lights of Atlantic City neared on the horizon. As he drove closer, he watched the line of lights grow like towers into the sky, cutting the black night into pieces and erasing the stars. But in that moment, the money practically burning a hole in his pocket and the endless potential to expand it growing larger before him, Lucas felt an invincible determination flood him and he stepped on the gas to reach his destination faster.
As he drove through the main street of casinos, Lucas was drawn to the flashy lights and large signs, his eyes glossing over as he took in the possibilities as he drove past each one. Finally, the flashy pink sign with the words "CASINO" caught his eye and he carefully pulled his bike to a stop at a nearby curb. He ripped the driving goggles off his head, cut the engine, and confidently walked inside the inviting establishment.
Lucas unzipped his leather jacket and scanned the room, taking him the rows of slot machines and various card table options. He slowly made his way through the enormous room, his boots walking lightly on the carpet, ready to avoid any zombie-like casino patrons. He didn't spare anyone a second glance and no one appeared to notice him, at least until he reached up and pulled a slot machine handle for one woman, who stared after him in complete confusion until the machine before her started spitting out coins and she realized she won.
Lucas's confidence couldn't have been higher. He was swaggering through that casino with a pleased smirk on his face. Lucas walked past a waitress and carefully reached up to help himself to a drink, sparing a side glance to a nearby roulette table, giving a small nod to the dealer as he spun the next round on the roulette wheel.
"22," Lucas quipped as he passed the table. "22 Black," the dealer repeated, and moments later the other patrons gasped loudly as the little white ball did indeed land on 22 Black.
But Lucas missed the excitement because he had finally found his destination. The craps table. He picked out a rather quiet table, sliding in between a loud, perky blonde model type and a middle-aged man and his wife. No one paid him any mind until Lucas grabbed the money from his pocket and swiftly deposited it on the table for everyone to see. He heard the woman beside him gasps and ignored the stares of the others.
"We have a high roller," the boxman spoke loudly, gesturing for the dealer to handle the money. The dealer reached for the large pile of cash and quickly moved to exchange it for the appropriate chips.
"It's 9,104. I counted it. Twice," Lucas revealed steadily as the money was moved away. The couple to his right just kept staring while the woman to his left immediately warmed to him. "I like your style," she teased, flashing him a wide, toothy grin and throwing her arm casually behind his neck.
"Joe told me to count it twice," Lucas replied shyly, looking down and tilting his head as though he was simply repeating his regular actions.
"No more bets, please, ladies and gentleman," the boxman interjected loudly, eager to begin the game. "Place your bets down. Place 'em down," he continued quickly as the couple placed their chips next to Lucas's money. An elderly couple also made a small bet and they seemed completely uninterested in any attention Lucas had brought to the table.
"So, do I just throw it and get a seven?" Lucas asked aloofly to the boxman, rolling the dice up in his hand in preparation.
"That would be very good, sir," the boxman replied with a sincere smile, his experience knowing that anything could happen in that moment when the dice landed.
"Feeling lucky?" the blonde teased again, throwing him another winning smile, which Lucas missed because he was so focused on the space where the dice would land.
I'm guided by a force much greater than luck," Lucas stated, with a quick shake of his head, as the dice felt strong under his fingers. He brought his fist up near his face, and then released the dice fast, watching them rocket across the table and bounce brightly against the green felt of the table.
After a beat of silence from the group, the two red dice came to a halt displaying the numbers three and four. "Seven! A winner!" the boxman announced cheerfully, as the dealers moved to gather the dice and add chips to Lucas's pile.
"Baby, you are sex!" the blonde cried happily, throwing her arms around Lucas again. He simply shrugged and quietly said, "I know," with a small smile.
"Same lucky shooter?" The boxman urged Lucas loudly. "Place your bets down, ladies and gentleman. Hot shooter on the line!" he continued, resetting the table for the next throw.
"You know what?" Lucas interjected thoughtfully. "Let it ride." The other players looked at him in shock and pointed looks of judgment. Even the boxman rose his eyebrows at Lucas, before continuing to prepare the table. "Hot dice, coming up!" the boxman yelled, getting the dice back to Lucas for the next roll.
The man next to Lucas, who had been casually smoking a cigarette during the last roll, finally spoke up. "That's an $18,000 bet. You sure you know what you're doing, kid?" He asked nervously, gesturing his free hand between the money and Lucas.
Lucas ignored him and turned to connect eyes with the blonde still hanging off of him. "I know this," Lucas started, before pulling his lips into a thin line and holding up the hand that now held the dice as he looked back to the man who posed the question.
"If I win this roll, I will save the place that I work from being sold and the jobs of my friends that work there. Thus striking a blow at all that is evil and making this world a better place to live in," Lucas spoke with quiet conviction. The others continued to stare at him, unmoved by his passionate speech. Lucas faltered for a moment, before gesturing his hand around at the others. "And...I'll buy you guys a drink," he finished slowly, hoping to entice their approval. They all voiced their happiness at his prospect.
"No more bets, ladies, and gentleman. No more bets. Place 'em down," the rapid-fire words of the boxman interrupted the celebration as the final bets were placed on the table. Lucas once again raised his fist up near his face, shaking the dice back and forth between his fingers. "Joe, this one's for you," Lucas spoke to himself, before letting out a short breath and released the dice across the table once more.
This time when the dice landed, the reaction was much slower. The two dice had each landed on one, or snake eyes. "Two! Craps! Dealer roll," the boxman yelled rather unenthusiastically. Lucas's face didn't give away a hint of shock or disappointment as he stared at the spot where the dice landed, and he appeared to not initially feel the loss of the money.
"You know something? You used to be cute," the blonde quipped, before pushing away from him and leaving the table.
"You used to have nine thousand bucks," sneered the man next to him, who also moved on to another table.
"I wonder if I'll be held responsible for this," Lucas said airily to himself, the weight of his actions still not setting in, even as he watched the money pile and his recently earned chipped taken away by the nearest dealer.
Almost in a daze, Lucas exited the casino through the same entrance in which he came, speeding back to the store, his mind blank while his next course of action eluding him. He came to a stop next to the record store and parked his bike in the side alley, staring out at the concrete in front of him. He must have fallen asleep, because the next thing he remembered was A.J.'s voice and a jerk of his bike jolting him awake.