Day 1 of Niceart Week is upon us at last~ I wrote this ages ago and finished it up for today's prompt: AU. Enjoy~

The Record Shop

Nice braced himself for what was sure to be a scolding as he punched a familiar number into his phone. He was lost – quite horribly so – and had been for at least an hour now. Rather than call his friend Murasaki for help right away, he had decided he would try to find his way around the bustling city by himself. This had, as it had turned out, not been the best idea; where at first he could at least be certain that he was within a reasonable distance of the central train station, he now had no idea whether he was even still in the right city. Oh well, he thought. At least I had a good time…

"Murasaki speaking," said his friend's voice over the phone. Gritting his teeth, Nice put the thing to his ear and replied.

"It's me."

"Nice? Where the hell have you been?" Nice didn't need to be able to see him to know that Murasaki was frowning in disapproval. In all fairness, the brunet had promised to come back to the other's apartment in time for lunch (and it was currently a quarter to four, judging by Nice's watch).

"I wish I knew…" Pausing for a moment, Nice prepared to ask a question he knew would piss his friend off. "Hey, can you come pick me up?"

"Are you kidding me? You know I have things to do. Why couldn't you just come right back?" Were it anyone else, they would probably have sounded more than a little bit angry, but Murasaki just seemed exasperated.

"I wanted to explore the city, I guess."

"Whatever. If you can find out where you are, text me the address and I'll come and get you," sighed Murasaki in defeat. It was a moment before he tacked on an afterthought. "This is the last damn time though."

"Yeah, yeah~" Nice chimed, suddenly much more enthusiastic than before. He hung up and began to search for a street sign or something else that could tell him where he was.

The sun still illuminated the streets before him in a warm afternoon light as he rounded a corner in hopes of finally discovering the name of the street he was on. He wasn't about to explain this to his friend, but the brunet absolutely loved walking around in new cities – it gave the kind of thrill that couldn't be found in the place you usually lived in, Nice reckoned. Almost subconsciously, he began humming the tune of a song he was particularly fond of as he walked along the pavement, taking note of the great variety in appearance of the passerby. Overall, even they seemed to be quite different from the average crowds back home in Tokyo. Coming all the way to New York City to visit Murasaki was already turning out to be a great idea.

Nice wound up getting so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize he had wandered even further from the main road than before until a cloud drifted in front of the sun, blocking out the bright rays momentarily and ending Nice's train of thoughts. Luckily for him, the side street he now found himself in was labeled with a sign. Although slightly worn, the letters on it were still distinguishable. Pulling his Blackberry back out of his pocket, he copied out the street's name and sent the text to Murasaki. Now to wait.

Leaning back against the wall, Nice took the opportunity to check out his surroundings. The horizon was covered almost entirely by the concrete buildings which towered over the streets below, but in front of Nice there were mostly smaller ones, having one, two, occasionally three stories. Most appeared to be residential. One house, some twenty paces from where he stood, looked to be a shop of sorts. Nice decided to pass some time by poking around in there.

As he stepped towards the entrance, he noticed that the building itself looked pretty old, like it had been made ages ago and restored a few times since. The brass sign that hung over the store wasn't shiny enough to have been manufactured anytime in the past five years, but also not dusty enough to seem unmaintained. Rather, it looked like someone polished it regularly.

"'The Label', huh," Nice muttered to himself as he read the sign. Probably some sort of music shop, he thought to himself as he pushed the door open.

Inside the store, the air had a faint musk not unlike that of an old library. Records and CDs lined the shelves along the walls, sorted by genre and then artist name. In a glass case behind the counter were some instruments of top quality. There was another display case in the center of the room – also made of glass – which contained some more instruments, but these showed signs of wear. They're probably second-hand or something, Nice concluded in his head. A customer was standing in front of the counter, blocking the clerk from view. Nice wondered for a brief moment whether they would be some old rocker kind of guy, or maybe a young punk type of person, but was soon distracted when he registered the song that was playing over the stereo.

Whoever picks the music for this place has some good taste in music, thought Nice as he hummed along to a Nine Inch Nails song. He had been browsing the racks of CDs for a few minutes already. This was the third song he had heard since entering the store, and it was much to his satisfaction. It occurred to him that the person in charge of the playlist for the store was probably the one who was working the counter. Curious now, he turned his head in the direction of the cashier, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

After having paid for whatever she was buying, the customer at the counter left the shop, calling a quick goodbye to the clerk over her shoulder. Nice glanced sideways automatically. He had intended to peek quickly at the cashier, then keep browsing the store, but that plan was soon discarded; behind the counter stood an incredibly attractive young man. He looked to be about Nice's age, maybe a little older. Pale, slightly purple hair framed the stranger's face, which was presently lit up with an easy smile. At a distance, Nice couldn't tell whether it was through colored contacts or not, but the clerk's eyes looked to be of a lavender hue. Below one of his eyes was a beauty mark, and for reasons unknown to Nice, that mark managed to add to the guy's cuteness. Did I just seriously call him cute?

"Can I help you?" asked the cashier, catching Nice off-guard. It was only then that he realized he had probably been staring the whole time.

"Oh, I'm just browsing," Nice dismissed, quickly turning his head back to return to facing the rack of CDs in hopes of hiding the blush that was rising to his cheeks. Fuck, his voice is kinda… Seductive? Oh damn, a cute guy with a seductive voice and a good taste in music – coming to see Murasaki is turning out to be a better idea than I had thought, the brunet reflected as he scanned the rows of albums in search of nothing in particular.

About five minutes passed before Nice dared to peek back over to the counter. Since he didn't currently have to help anyone out, the good-looking cashier was bent over, pressing some buttons on what was probably an audio device. Nice decided that the best way to strike up a conversation with the guy would be by mentioning that he liked the music that was playing. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he strolled up to the counter casually.

"Hey, the music here is great," he said, hoping to strike up a conversation. It worked.

"Thank you, I make the playlists myself." The absolutely adorable smile which accompanied the stranger's words made Nice feel like one of those rom-com protagonists who falls in love at first sight cheesily. He smiled right back.

"So what's your name?" asked the brunet.

"Art. And yours?" Art inclined his head sideways just a little in an inquisitive gesture. Nice hesitated a minute before answering.

"… Nice," he finally said, expecting the usual "that's-not-a-real-name" spiel. Then again, this guy did say his name was Art, which wasn't really the most conventional name either, Nice reasoned, though it could be short for Arthur or something like-

"Pleased to meet you, Nice." And he's still smiling too! Nice found himself noting delightedly. A brief pause ensued, until Art spoke again.

"So do you live around here? I've never seen you before."

"Nope, I'm here to see the city. A friend of mine lives here," replied Nice in what he hoped was a casual tone.

"Oh, that's unusual – this isn't really the most popular zone for tourists," he remarked, giving Nice a politely inquisitive look. "Does your friend live close by?"

"Erm, not really. I kind of… got lost." Nice scratched the back of his head awkwardly, waiting to see how the other would react. Much to his surprise, Art didn't laugh at him, instead adopting a concerned expression.

"Do you need any help getting back to where you're staying?" asked the pale-haired cashier. The sincerity in Art's violet eyes was enough to make Nice want to swoon.

"I'm good, thanks. He's on his way here already."

"Okay. Well, feel free to stay here as long as you'd like. … And if there's anything else I can help you with, let me know," Art added as an afterthought. As he gave Nice another absolutely adorable smile, the brunet decided that there was no way he was leaving the shop before getting this cute cashier's number.

Some ten minutes later, Nice's phone rang; Murasaki was parked close by and warned Nice that he'd be sleeping on the ground if he didn't hurry up and get to the car already. Nice dismissed him with a sigh and a "fine". When he hung the phone up, he noticed that Art was loking at him.

"That was my friend," explained Nice before the other had the chance to ask. "He's here to pick me up."

"Was there anything-" (-you wanted to buy, Art had wanted to ask, but he found himself cut off by Nice.

"Can I have your number?" Art's cheeks turned ruby red.

"O-oh, I didn't know you, um, swing that way," he said, sounding like he was testing to see whether he had correctly interpreted Nice's intentions.

"Well-" (- that depends on whether you do too, Nice stopped himself from saying) "-yes, actually. But if you don't, then-"

"No," interrupted Art, smiling until he realized his mistake. At that point his cheeks colored once again and his eyes went wide as he stumbled over his words. "I mean, yes. Not that I don't, I mean… No wait, I-" He cut himself off for a moment to take a deep breath. "… I do. And I would love to exchange numbers."

By this point Nice was almost blushing too. Both of them were glad that they were the only ones in the shop at that moment. Art reached into his pocket and pulled out a small Nokia; Nice fumbled a bit as he took his Anycall from a pocket in his bodywarmer. They quickly registered each other's numbers before Nice had to run for fear of upsetting Murasaki and actually being made to sleep on the ground.

The first thing Murasaki asked Nice was why he almost skipped on his way to the car. The next thing was whom he was so eager to text right away – too eager, in fact, to pay his friend much heed as they drove back to Murasaki's apartment.

Later that day, when the sun had long since set, Murasaki decided that he had had enough of Nice ignoring him to text with – well, whomever he was texting with – and asked once more who it was that Nice was so preoccupied with. The brunet grinned and responded that the person was, in fact, his "cute new boyfriend".

Hope you liked it! Feel free to leave a review - anything is appreciated, except flames.