You'll have to decide whether the title of this story is a reference to Nine Inch Nails or The Chainsmokers.

Arnold woke. He was staring at the blue wall. A moment passed. His alarm started to go off. He reached without looking and shut it off. Arnold sat up and put his legs over the edge of the bed. He had an hour till he had to head to work. He gathered a clean pair of clothes. He opened his door and walked down stairs. He got in the shower. Time seemed to move so fast in the morning. He was walking towards the dining room. He passed by his red bike. His grandfather was there in the kitchen. He was making scrambled eggs and there was toast in the toaster. "Hey, short man."

"That smells good."

Arnold took a seat at the table. He was not alone. There was the new boarder. She was a thin young woman. She was wearing a sweatshirt. She had cereal in a bowl. Oats. Arnold wanted to make conversation but he wasn't really sure what to say. He sighed and a few minutes passed. Grandpa put a plate and fork in front of Arnold. There were the yellow scrambled eggs but the color was slightly off orange in places. "What's with the eggs?"

"Oh I put some cheese in 'em. I thought you liked that?"

"I do." He took a fork and plunged it into the eggs. It was a good breakfast. The toast was a little burnt. Arnold went into the hall for his bike. But it wasn't there. Arnold simply stood there for a few moments. He walked back into the kitchen. Grandpa was washing the dishes. "Have you seen my bike, grandpa?"

"Isn't it right there in the hall?"

Arnold looked one last time as if it had suddenly appeared in the time he had been looking away. "No, it's not."

Grandpa sighed. "I'll drive you to work. When should we head out?"

"In ten."

Ten minutes later they were in the car. Phil's Packard died a few years back. Phil found the task of replacing the car impossible. He just got a new thing. Arnold missed the Packard but he couldn't get over the new air conditioning. It was a five minute drive. Arnold got out of the red Forester. Phil settled on a vehicle that wasn't too expensive but had some extra space in case they needed it. Arnold couldn't think of why they needed the space but the car was nice. "So you can pick me up at 5?"

"Sure, Short man."

Arnold said goodbye to his grandfather and went into the grocery store. It was 9:01 on the clock in the front of the store. He went to the back. In the gray concrete part of the store. He punched in and went to the aisle. Frank Sinatra was playing over the speakers of the store. Arnold mouthed the words of the song as they came. "Only the lonely go..." It was an elegant little tune. Arnold got a little lost. Staring as the music soothed him. He felt something. He looked to his left. There was Helga Pataki loading expired packs of greens into the produce cart. She was noting exactly what they needed more of. Helga was wearing a pink baggy sweatshirt. She turned feeling the eyes on the back of her neck. She saw Arnold. Arnold looked confused. Like he needed something.

"Something I can do for you, sir?"

"Helga."

"Arnold."

"You didn't just call me football head."

"Well that'd be a rude thing to call a customer."

"Yeah." Arnold chuckled.

"Well do you need something? A certain kind of apple? We have a whole bunch of greens."

"I work here, Helga. I work in produce with you."

Helga's face dropped. "You do?"

"Yeah, I didn't know there would be a new employee working with me."

"Well, it's not that big of a deal is it? We're two grade school friends."

"Yeah, well. Let me talk to the owner."

"OK."

Arnold knocked on the office door. He heard a voice through the wood. "Come on in." Arnold opened the door and saw the office chair and there was a slight sound of something. Arnold couldn't put his finger on what the sound was. It sounded like water moving around. Andrew had sandy golden hair. "Oh, Arnold. Good morning."

"Hey, Andrew. I didn't get notice there was going to be somebody joining me in produce."

"Oh shoot, I meant to mention it yesterday. We brought her in for an hour to learn the basics. She's starting today. Her name's Helga."

"Yeah, uh I know her. We used to go to school together."

"Is this going to be a problem, Arnold?"

"No, I would've just liked some notice that's all."

"Did you have a relationship with Helga?"

"No. Nothing like that."

"Well, you two should get along fine. She's a nice girl."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"What's that sound?" It was like whirring moving water around.

"Oh that." Andrew's face lit up and he wheeled back in his chair. Arnold stepped up and took a look at what was beneath the chair. It looked like a bucket full of water but Andrew's feet were in it.

"What's that?"

"It's a foot massage machine, it heats the water up as it caresses your feet."

"Uh, wow, sir."

"Neato, huh?"

Arnold nodded but didn't say another word.

"How about you get to work?"

Arnold nodded and left the room. Working with Helga, huh. He walked to the front of the store. Helga was gathering up the last of the expired greens. She looked at Arnold. "How about you take one last look over the aisle? Tell me if you see anything I missed."

Arnold looked at the greens. Though he honestly had trouble concentrating. Helga was tapping her foot as he did it. He grabbed one piece of produce she missed and put it on the cart. "That should be everything."

"Dang. Well pobody's nerfect."

Arnold chuckled halfheartedly. Helga looked at him. She looked at him discerningly. "Let's get to the back of the store."

"Sure."

Arnold followed as Helga pushed the cart. They arrived in the back. She tossed out the pieces of green and the various fruits and vegetables she noticed had gone bad. Arnold brought the mental image of aisle into his mind. "We're going to need a few apples. Looks like people have been getting the galas."

"Getting the galas, got it. The onions also looked a bit empty."

"Yes." They collected their produce and loaded it into the cart. They did it wordlessly. They went back out front replaced what had expired and refilled the apples and onions. They pulled out a few tomatoes that had went bad. After one more trip the aisle looked pretty good. They went to the back and started to get ready to make a few snack packs. It was strange to be working with Helga, but she wasn't acting much like a bully. She was an employee like him. He wanted to make some convo he hadn't had the opportunity in a while. "How's your summer going, Helga?"

"It's been pretty vanilla. Been spending my time doing some writing. Some time doing nothing. Nothing special."

"What do you write about?"

"Crime stories."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, crime stories. Ya know like murders and drug dealing."

"Why did I think you'd be doing romance?"

"You think I'm typical."

Arnold's face went red. For a moment that hung in the air. "Well, uh... no."

Helga chuckled. "You do."

"Well, I don't know I expected underneath that tough exterior there'd be some soft part. Like you'd write all these frilly poems and stuff."

"I do write poems."

"What kind?"

Helga wanted to bite her tongue. "Well, those aren't about murder."

"Then what are they about?"

"Places, things, people. Elements. Wind, fire."

"Huh."

She hoped that would keep him satisfied. "Let's make these snack thingies."

"Alright."

Arnold cut up the celery, the carrots and put in the ranch. She was the one who needed practice on the wrapping machine. He looked over at her work. It still looked rough. "Helga."

"Yeah?"

"Let me show you how." He stepped over to the machine and took her position. He wrapped it around tight and pressed the back into heated part of the machine. There was not much bunch up on the back. It was more precise. "You have to make sure you do it in a smooth motion or else it'll get all bunched up.

"Lemme try." She did it. It looked a little bit better. Helga looked at Arnold.

"Better. Keep trying." Arnold did his part of the job but kept glancing over to see how she was doing. She steadily improving but she still needed work. There was a few that he needed to do himself so they were good enough to put on the shelves.

The day passed by. It was a pleasant experience with Helga there. Surprisingly. He didn't really expect to get along with her. She only called him football head once. She was good at picking out what needed replacing and she was on top of her duties. She was reluctant to make conversation though. She kept it short.

He laid in the bed that night. His father had brought him by the record store earlier that day. He had picked up a few CDs. He picked up one of CDs. On the cover was a crow or a raven wrapped in red twine. It was by a band called Death Cab For Cutie. He put it on his little handheld CD player. He put the headphones on and listened.

He closed his eyes. There was tension within him. The songs reminded him of him. He felt bad. He turned it off at the last song. He laid sideways and clapped. The lights went out. Only the moon lit the room. After an hour he realized he was having trouble sleeping. He opened his phone and went through his messages. He found his name. He looked through the messages. He could barely stand it. He closed the phone on the stand beside him. He gasped for air he didn't need. He laid down for another half hour before finally getting to sleep.