That 70s Show fanfic: It Was Only a Matter of Time (3)
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Chapter Three: What Now?
A few minutes later he pulled up in front of the record store. He knew something was wrong before he even got out. WB’s car was out front, and he could hear yelling from inside. Uh oh.
He slowly made his way inside the store. The place was a wreck. The milk crates were toppled. Records, or more accurately, pieces of records littered the floor. The posters had been torn down and someone had spray-painted “disco sucks” on the wall. He stood in the doorway, gaping. WB came out of the storeroom screaming at his assistant.
The withering look on his face froze Hyde in his tracks. “Steven! What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know,” he murmured.
“Well, didn’t you lock up last night?”
“Uh, well,” Hyde started. He was in a load of trouble. His first impulse was to concoct some conspiracy explaining what had happened, but WB was standing there all fatherly. He had trusted Hyde to run one of his stores. No one had really trusted him with anything before, and he messed it all up.
“Dude, this place is a mess.”
“Leo, man, what the hell happened?” Hyde yelled as the hippie appeared in the office door.
“Looks like someone trashed the place. Probably those kids that came in last night.”
“Didn’t you ask them to leave? Or lock up?”
“Why would I lock up. This isn’t my place. It’s your place, man.”
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“But, I left you in charge,” Hyde said, frustrated.
“Wait a minute,” WB interrupted, “you left this… pothead in charge of my store? What were you thinking?”
Hyde was still wondering that himself. It had seemed like a perfectly logical thing to do at the time, but looking back, maybe his judgment had been clouded by his urge to go see Jackie. He felt his stomach squeezing tighter.
“Steven, I don’t understand-”
“I’m sorry, WB. I had some personal business to attend to.”
“Steven, this store is personal business. What could be more important?”
Only the most important moment of my life, Hyde thought. Sadness swept over him again, thinking of how things might have gone. WB waded through the mess to the cash register. He hit a few buttons, and the drawer popped open with a ding.
“Great, it’s empty. Steven, I don’t know what to say.”
Hyde did. He was the world’s biggest screw-up. How could he have thought leaving Leo in charge was a good idea? Hyde massaged his temples. What the hell else could go wrong?
“Hey, man, don’t worry about the cash. I got that.”
“You do?” Hyde asked, hope welling in his chest.
“Yeah. I got it right here… somewhere.” Leo patted down his shirt and pants. “Oh yeah, here it is.”
He handed Hyde a wad of bills. “Leo, there are only forty dollars here.”
“I know, man. It was a busy night; lots of kids in here returning albums.” Leo smiled.
“Did you ask to see any receipts? Did it ever occur to you that they were just taking records from the store and trading them for cash from you?” Leo looked surprised, then disheartened. Hyde handed the money to WB. There had been over three hundred dollars in the store when he left. Looking around, he knew that the damage to the stock was more then Hyde had in the bank.
Hyde looked at his father. “I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking last night. Jackie left the other day, and I went to get her back. I guess I had a one-track mind. I will make this up to you if you just give me another chance.”
WB studied him, brow knit together. Hyde’s stomach tightened even more. He’d disappointed a lot of people lately. He found himself caring about that a lot more than he used to. He blamed the Formans. Finally, the older man’s face relaxed.
“All right. We’ll figure something out,” he said. Hyde looked at him gratefully. It was the first break he had gotten in a while. “For starters, I don’t want that hippie in my store anymore. And if you need help, hire another manager.”
“I can do that?”
“Sure. I don’t expect you to run this store by yourself all hours of the day.” WB patted his shoulder, then wound his way through the debris, glaring at Leo the entire time. His assistant followed, jotting notes on a clipboard.
Hyde took in the entire mess-it was going to take all day to clean it up. “Leo, why don’t you start picking up records while I start an inventory.” He glanced up to find the store empty. He sighed. “Figures,” he muttered, kicking an upside-down crate across the room.
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