#this isn't my best work I think I'll always prefer cereal box

[shooklynn-blog]

Thrift Shop (Chapter 1)

so this is something I started a while ago (like the actual first fanfic i wrote, i think it’s from the beginning of april) but kind of stopped writing and i’m not sure i like how it turned out very much but I just wanted to put this out there in case anybody ended up liking it, then i’d be happy to write more! i have a chapter 2 totally done and ready, so if you like this, let me know and i’ll put it up and continue to write it (maybe?) but it was just a little thing i wanted to do and, if people like it, it’ll be my first chaptered fic! any feedback is appreciated! oh, it’s also my first AU fic! really hope you enjoy :)

summary (kinda spoilery for the future lol): Dan goes into a thrift shop downtown for the first time and meets the only employee there, a boy named Phil. He makes a fool out of himself and, when cleaning up his mess, talks to Phil. Phil is outgoing and Dan thinks he talks too much and leaves without buying anything, but interactions that take place between them end up giving Phil major self-confidence issues and lead him to develop selective mutism over the year that they’re apart. They meet up again and Dan realizes the effects of his words, and maybe the boy isn’t so bad after all and Dan was all too quick to judge.

au: i wrote this imagining that it took place somewhere in their teenaged years, where they are roughly the same age. also: pastel!Dan and pastel!Phil because i love them so much omg. later there’s gonna be mute!Phil but not in this chapter. 

word count: 1,641

genre: fluff and a little angst

warning: Dan is kind of a jerk lol, rated G for a little bit of gay later

Dan’s POV:

I had no idea why I’d never been to the thrift store downtown. I’d gazed into the windows occasionally before, but it never was a good time to go in. The clothes were tasteful, I’d just never really gone in. I decided that it was time to check the store out, if only to never return again, just so I could say that I went in. Really, it was a cute shop with a nice window display, in an alley just off of the main street.

I walked in and was pleasantly surprised. Unlike most thrift stores, I wasn’t bombarded with the smell of old people and musk, but rather the shop smelled of a sweet cotton candy. Some soft, upbeat music played in the background, a tune I didn’t fully recognize, but that seemed vaguely familiar. I looked around and was frankly shocked by the size of the shop. It was far larger than it had appeared from the outside, filled with seemingly endless racks of clothes. The walls were painted a pastel blue. It was really a beautiful shop.

“Hello! How can I help you?” I heard a voice coming from the back room and turned my head. I jumped a little, not realizing that somebody else was there. It was a boy, a little older than myself, holding boxes of clothes piled almost to his chin. Of course, I assumed they were filled with clothes or something, but it was nearly impossible to tell. I smiled curtly at him and began to sort through one of the racks. It was filled with t-shirts in various sizes, most had been washed so much that the cotton had worn thin. I pulled a faded teal shirt off of its wooden hanger.

“Excuse me, do you have any fitting rooms?” I hated having to bother the clerk, but I really didn’t want to buy the top without knowing if it would fit.

“I’m sorry, we don’t really have one. If you’d like, you could try it on in the back room if you don’t mind all the boxes of donated junk.” I smiled and walked to the small room from where the boy had first emerged. It was small and nearly filled to the ceiling with boxes stacked on top of eachother. There wasn’t a lot of space that I could change in, but I thought it would be rude to walk out after I’d just come in, so I pulled the door shut behind me. I tugged my jumper off and slipped on the t-shirt. It fit pretty nicely and the material was very soft on my skin. I was checking myself out in the mirror when I heard a soft knocking on the door.

“Sorry, I think I left my phone in here,” I opened the door to let the boy in, “Wow! That shirt really suits you. It’s a very nice color. Really brings out your eyes.” I blushed and mumbled thanks while he grabbed his phone and let me be. It wasn’t that I didn’t get complimented, it’s just that a majority of the nice things people said to me came from my relatives or close friends. The opinion of some random thrift shop employee shouldn’t matter so much to me, but I guess sometimes it’s nice to be recognised. Plus, I didn’t really like my eyes. Of all the things anybody could point out, my eyes were generally not the topic of compliments I received. They were plain and brown and boring. They were definitely nothing special.

I tugged the shirt off, apparently a little too excitedly. While I was free from the grip of the teal shirt, pulling it off had cause my elbow to sail into one of the boxes of junk, shoving it away and causing all of the boxes to fall onto me. I groaned. Of course of all things, I’d ruin all of the sorted boxes of donations. The door burst open.

“Oh my, are you alright?” the boy looked down at me, concerned. I laughed half heartedly, “Yeah, I’m great, just, you know, buried in boxes.” He reached his hand out to me and pulled me out of the boxes sitting atop me. At that moment, I realized that I wasn’t wearing a shirt and quickly turned around and looked for my jumper under the boxes. I pulled it over my head and over my torso to cover myself up. My face was flushed, I’d messed up pretty badly.

“I’m really sorry, I’ll help you get everything cleaned up. I’m such a clutz,” I sighed, bending down to put stuff back in the boxes. The boy giggled, “It’s fine, I can clean up here. We don’t get many customers anyhow, now I’ll have something to do for the rest of the day.” I felt so bad for him. It didn’t seem like there were any other workers to help him. It was my mess, it was only fair if I helped him clean up.

“Really, I insist. I’ll be here to help you keep company. I owe you one, I should’ve kept better track of my elbow.” There was that giggle again, the boy’s tongue poking out a little as he smiled at me. It was clear that he was the exact opposite of me, at least personality wise. He seemed very friendly and outgoing, whilst I tended to recoil at the idea of any social interaction. He sure did like to laugh, and, while I was pretty sure he was laughing with me, I still couldn’t help but feel that he was teasing me for knocking everything down. I felt really bad for having inconvenienced him, but he didn’t have to try and make conversation while trying to repack boxes. I just wanted to help him and go.

“So, do you always pull your shirt off so violently?” Did he just wink at me? Maybe he just blinked. Was I seeing things? This boy did love to talk. He told me stories about his mum, who had taken a photo where her hand looked like a claw, and joked about her being a lobster. He said that he worked in the shop every day because his mum owned the place and paid him to help keep it running. While the way he babbled on was undeniably adorable, I didn’t come to the shop to hear his life story. Still, I couldn’t be rude and ask him to shut up, so I just grinned and nodded while he continued to chat. I felt very bad about knocking all of the boxes over, after all. Slowly but steadily, we managed to return everything to its proper box.

“Thanks for helping. This would have taken ages if I were alone. We make a good team, huh?” the boy gave me a small smile. I grinned tightly back at him. I was ready to go back to the safety of my bed where I wouldn’t have to face the social humiliation I had to when I inevitably messed something up because I was a clutz. Honestly, I’d have rather been anywhere else other than that stupid shop with that extroverted employee trying to converse with me.

“Yeah, we sure did make a good team. See you round then,” I made a beeline for the door, not leaving quick enough to avoid seeing the boy’s face fall as I quickly escaped from the shop. Thank god that was over. As I looked back in one last time, I saw the boy sitting at the checkout, looking sadly down at the register. What was his problem? I was just a customer, I was sure he saw loads, right? It wasn’t my job to babysit him while he worked.

Phil’s POV:

What did I do to scare him away? I thought I’d acted more than friendly towards the curly-headed customer. I’d shared some funny anecdotes with him and tried to engage with him. He seemed like a nice guy, a bit reserved, yeah, but he did stay back to help pack up the boxes after he’d knocked them down. I just didn’t understand why he left so abruptly, like he couldn’t even face me. Had I done something wrong?

I knew it was silly, but it got lonely in the shop. We hardly saw any customers at all in the shop, and those we see are usually old people or those donating. I rarely saw anybody my age in and, well, it was nice that the boy made me feel a little less alone. Of course, it was silly. He'd just been shopping downtown and I was just another employee. He stayed back because he was polite. That’s all. I just wish he could have stayed. I couldn’t help but wonder what his life was like, as I’d shared so many parts of mine with him. All things considered, he hardly shared anything at all with me, and I talked most of the time.

I hated how I’d just shoot off at the mouth. That was probably it. That’s why most people tended to avoid me. I was just too clingy and easily attached. I read too much into things. He thought I was gross and obnoxious and arrogant because I talked too much. That made sense. I just wanted to make him feel comfortable, you know? Not everybody was as outgoing as me, and some people just weren’t comfortable sharing their life with a stranger. Oh god. I must have seemed so strange. Why am I so stupid? Of course he didn’t care about my life. He was just polite. Just polite, nothing else. That’s why he stayed. That’s why he smiled and talked a bit with me and left. I just wanted someone to care about me. I just wanted a friend.