&&. Murray + Eddie 001 - Blog Posts

murray-baumans·:

who: murray & @eddiemcnson·

where: the music center

After the semi-successful investigation at the border, Murray decided to treat himself to a relaxing night in– he’d cook a lasagna, pour some wine, and unwind to some jazz. In particular, he was looking to replace his George Benson record; he’d discovered earlier that day that he’d left it in Illinois. So, Murray found himself a the Music Center, which must have been run by a middle schooler because the organization was completely senseless.

Approaching who he assumed to be an employee, Murray cleared his throat to make his presence known. “Excuse me, could you point me in the direction of your jazz collection?” he asked, investigating the button’s on the young man’s jacket. “You a metalhead?” he wondered aloud.

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the music center was one of his more frequented places, eddie made sure to stop by at least once when he came back to hawkins. though vastly different from the record store he worked at in chicago - which was more specialised on alternative music and the sort - he enjoyed browsing through the stacks of vinyls and tapes, spending time rummaging through the bargain bin. it reminded him of his childhood and early adolescence. really, eddie had spent hours on end in the store, some days only leaving if he was explicitly asked to do so.

today, however, he’d simply come in to take his mind off things. off the ‘tragedy at benny’s diner’, more specifically. he wanted to browse through some new releases, see if they got any heavy stuff at all. drop by to make sure that cole was okay, too - they’d left things on a rather....awkward note, too, having had their encounter in the mall cut short by max’s arrest. 

“sorry?”, eddie’s head popped up from behind the shelf, he threw the other a puzzled look. eyes narrowing as the man in front of him mentioned the words ‘jazz’ and ‘collection’. “uh, i don’t....work here, man. sorry.”

eddie stared at him for a moment, wondering if his question was, perhaps, a trap of sorts. and because, quite frankly, he was an odd looking fella. “uh, yeah. sure am. what gave it away?”, he asked jokingly and laughed, gesturing down at his buttons.