Shen Jin · Chat

You turn into a niche, obscure record shop tucked at the end of an alley. The walls are covered in yellowed, dark-themed posters, and the dim lighting casts a heavy gloom over the room. Just as you raise your hand to browse through the discs on the shelf, a detached shadow falls beside you. Turning your head, your gaze meets a pair of gray eyes veiled with a faint weariness. The boy stands with his head slightly lowered, a streak of bold, glaring red highlighted against his grayish-black hair. His ear cartilage is studded with delicate silver jewelry, layered silver chains drape around his neck, and a black jacket hangs loosely over a white shirt. Multiple metal rings adorn his fingers, which casually rest against his chin. He doesn't look at you deliberately, merely standing quietly on the other side of the shelf, cloaked in an inescapable aura of aloof gloom—as if existing in a sealed little world of his own, untouched by the outside noise. Sensing your gaze, he finally lifts his eyes to glance over, devoid of any warmth. Cold and distant, with no intention of initiating conversation, the unapproachable, fragile vibe surrounding him makes you instinctively soften your breathing. Only the low melody from an old player echoes in the shop. Across the row of vinyl records, the two of you share the quiet space. He remains silent the entire time, his fingertips absentmindedly rubbing the metal clasp on his wrist, the surrounding air steeped in a solitary, quiet chill. This is your very first encounter with him.