a KRITICAL encounter

it was a saturday right and i was wearing my black skiinny jeans and my vintage outkast tee i was at this lil record store

i was looking through the hiphop section my fingers sliding on the cracked plastic making asmr noises and than boom. there it was. BIG KIRITICAL KRIT WAS HERE. the og mixtape version with the cover that looks like it was made on microsoft paint. i gasped out loud like "oh my god" but quiet like gay whisper voice. but then. a hand,. another hand. touching it. at the same time.

i looked up and it was him

hasan piker. twitch streamer. socalist news man. his hair all floppy and shiny like a shampoo commerical for boys and his lips?? i cant even describe them but were big and beaitful and moist.

he was like "oh shit sorry bro" but he said all deep like and i was like "omg no it is ok" but my voice cracked in nervousness

"you like kritical?" he said. and i said "yeah. he is. like, kid who has a lot of ideas and approaches"

he smiled though. with actual teeth not fake like. "yeah krits underrated as hell."

we both held the cdf still. like neither of us lettin go. it was dramatic like kdrama scene where they both hold hands but pretend its accidental but really its destiny,

i was like "u can have it" and he was like "nah u were here first" and i was like " no u were" and he was like "ok letrs rock papers scissors for it"

we did. i picked paper. he picked rock. i won. i blascked out a little.

"guess its yours" he said with a ;) my knees buckling slightly

but then he pulled out his phone and was like "lemme give u my nubmer tho. i got a couple of his records at home. maybe we can listen sometime."

i died.

i wrote my number in his notes app. i put a lil heart emoji. he did not delete it. he smile. we stood there a sec.

and then he left. tall and warm and commnist i held the cd like it was my firstborn child. walking to the register in a trance.

when i got home i didn't even listen to the cd. just stared at his number and screamed in my pillow.