The woman came in ten minutes before closing.
Alex almost missed her.
He was halfway through locking the register when the bell over the door rang—soft, apologetic, like it didn't want to be an inconvenience. He looked up out of habit more than interest.
She stood just inside the doorway, brushing rain from her coat.
Mid-twenties, maybe. Dark hair pulled back loosely, already slipping free. There was something tired about the way she moved—not exhausted, just… aware. Like she paid attention to things other people stepped over.
"Sorry," she said. "I know you're probably closing."
Alex glanced at the clock, then shrugged. "I close when I'm done pretending I have a schedule."
That earned him a quick smile. Not polite. Real.
She stepped closer, setting a small portable cassette player on the counter. "It keeps distorting," she said. "Not static—more like warping. Like the sound bends."
Alex's fingers paused.
He didn't look at the system. He didn't need to.
"Does it happen everywhere?" he asked.
She blinked. "Mostly at home. Sometimes outside. Never at my office."
Interesting.
He opened the casing carefully, more curious than concerned. The circuitry was clean. Too clean. No corrosion. No obvious faults.
Yet when he powered it on, the audio wavered—subtle, wrong, like the tape was being played underwater.
SYSTEM NOTICE
Signal anomaly detected
Category: Environmental
Recommendation: Observe.
Alex resisted the urge to sigh.
"Where do you live?" he asked casually.
She hesitated. Just a fraction. "Edge of town. Near the old quarry."
That explained more than he liked.
"I'm Alex," he said, glancing up. "Owner. Repairman. Unofficial therapist for broken electronics."
"Claire," she replied. "Journalist. Officially bored. Unofficially annoyed when things don't make sense."
That did it.
Alex smiled—slow, careful.
He fixed the cassette player enough to stabilize the signal, though the distortion never fully disappeared. He didn't push it. Some things weren't meant to be solved outright.
When he handed it back, their fingers brushed.
Nothing dramatic. No spark.
But she didn't pull away immediately.
"Thanks," she said. "What do I owe you?"
"Nothing today," Alex replied. "Call it… curiosity tax."
Her eyebrow lifted. "That's a dangerous business model."
"So is journalism," he countered.
She laughed, short and surprised, then paused at the door. "If it acts up again?"
"Bring it back," he said. "I like puzzles."
She nodded once, like she'd just confirmed a suspicion, and stepped into the rain.
Alex locked the door behind her and stood there longer than necessary.
SYSTEM UPDATE
Social Insight: Minor increase.
"Great," he muttered. "Now you're invested."
He walked home through wet streets and flickering lights, aware of the quiet in a way he hadn't been the night before. Hawkins felt thinner tonight. Like something had leaned too close.
At the top of the stairs to his apartment, he stopped.
Someone was standing across the street.
Not Claire.
A man in a dark jacket, pretending to read a newspaper in the rain.
Alex didn't react. He unlocked his door, stepped inside, and waited until the locks were secure before exhaling.
So,
A journalist who noticed distortions.A stranger who noticed him.
And a system that was suddenly very interested in both.
Alex leaned against the door and smiled faintly.
"This is where it gets complicated," he said.