Divulging Thoughts

Chapter One

"What is your substance,
where of are you made,
that millions of strange shadows,
on you tread?"

~William Shakespeare

The smell of coffee was one of the only reasons I was sweating my butt off in a small shack of a coffee shop when it happened to be the hottest day in August. It was not helping that all the people that frequented this hell hole were men who stank of stale sweat and beer but who were nursing forever hangovers. My associate, Tiffany, was a chirpy girl of sixteen who was only there because her father owned the little shop and needed to occupy her for the summer break.

I, on the other hand, needed the job because in exactly 21 days 20 hours 15 minutes and 27 seconds, I would finally be moving out into college. I swooned silently over the idea of finally being able to live in my own apartment, with my own kitchen and to cook whatever I wanted to without fear of my father calling it too unhealthy or my brother inhaling it all up before I even got the chance to take a bite.

The sound of Tiffany's obnoxious chewing pulled me out of my reverie and I turned to glare at her. She wasn't even looking my way and her bright blue eyes were fixed on the door. I followed her gaze and realized why she didn't even get fazed at my super killer glare. Mr. Hottie from Mars had just entered.

Mr. Hottie from Mars earned his nickname last week when I wasn't able to come to work because of my recurrent flu problems. It was after hours the next day when I was mopping up the days slop that Tiffany retailed the story of Mr. Hottie and how majestic he was. The cook, James Fyre, a really cute Spanish guy in college (honestly I used to have a crush on him before I found out he was gay) who cooked waffles and breakfast combos, laughed on about how Tiffany drooled so much, she almost filled a coffee cup. I could not help but wonder how Tiffany had fallen for such an old man, for only such men came to the shop, when she pointed out that he must have looked at least 21, with a body that was out of this world. That's when I laughed and said that he must have come from Mars.

"Yes! He's totally Mr. Hottie from Mars!!" Tiffany had exclaimed and I couldn't help but laugh at that.

I tried to concentrate on the man who came in through the doors. I could almost hear the angelic corny music and I half expected to see the bulb at the doorway which never turned on to magically light up. However, I was poorly disappointed when my eyes met a scuffled man with an unshaved face and who staggered in, almost hitting the table beside him. Tiffany giggled and nudged me.

"That's him, Vee. That's Mr. Hottie. "

I almost laughed. He looked nothing like her descriptions! This man was dressed in the worst trench coat I had ever seen! His hair seemed black or brown: I could not tell because of how dirty and unkempt it looked. His face needed God's intervention. Frankly, he needed a shower.

He staggered his way to the bar and sat on one of the high stools reserved for customers waiting for their take away coffee. As he slunk in his seat, I could smell the pungent stench radiating off him. The smell made me want to barf. I covered my nose quickly, backing away until my back hit the door leading into the kitchen. Abandoning Tiffany to man the front, I retreated to the back. James was busy making waffles and smiled warmly as he pointed at the pile of dirty dishes. I frowned in return.

"How do you get all these dishes dirty? I mean, you're not an intercontinental chef. You make waffles, for Pete's sake!!" I exclaimed, grabbing the ugly yellow gloves.

James just guffawed and said something in Spanish I couldn't understand. I grumbled under my breath as my hands plunged into the soapy water.

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I trudged down the quiet street, listening to the various club's music from afar. I stifled a yawn as I rounded the corner and the house came into view. Well, house is a bit of an understatement. My father was a renowned researcher and earned enough for my brother and I to live comfortably. Hence I ended up living in a house I kept comparing to a palace. Sometimes I felt it was so huge, I hadn't been to the end of it yet.

I climbed up the marble steps and was met with the friendly doorman who smiled at me as I passed.

"How was work, Vee?" he asked pleasantly.

"Good, thanks."

Now, I'm sure you're wondering, if I live in such a house, why do I need to work a job? Can't my father pay for a penthouse for my university?

Well, my father believed in riches out of a person's own pocket.

"Violet, I will not fund for anything except your fees. Medical school is expensive enough," he had said, twirling his Diamante pen by Aurora (went for $1.2 million in the stock market last year)

I could not help but smile at the paradoxical nature of the statement.

I opened the heavy oak door with all my strength and was met with Alfred, a white haired man who smiled toothily at me. He had been the butler ever since my mom died when I was six years old.

"Hello, Miss Violet. How was your day?" he asked as he helped me take off my trench coat.

"Fine, how was yours Alfred? And how many times will I tell you not to call me Miss? I'm so much younger than you!" I said, lightly hitting his shoulder. He just smiled and let me by.

I clambered up the steps excitedly heading straight for my brother's room. Nicholas liked heights so he got the highest floor and the greatest view. I was panting by the time I was at the 5th floor. I stood outside his door, buckled over, trying to catch my breath. All of a sudden, the door was unceremoniously pulled open.

"Violet, why do you always have to climb as if you're a donkey on the run?" Nicholas said huskily and I looked up to see him in his favorite spider man pants and a white tee, despite the fact that he was 22 years next month, his blonde hair messy and his eyes all puffy. He must have just woken up.

I scrutinized him. "Did you just wake up, Nick?"

"What does it look like, cow?" he retorted and dragged himself into his room, slamming the door in my face.

I sucked in a breath and pushed his door, walking in after him.

"Why do you have to be so rude to your only sister?" I whined after him and plopped on his bed. Nicholas groaned after I sat on his leg. Ah, sweet victory was mine. I glanced at him and giggled once before yelping when he kicked me off making me almost fall off the bed.

"What do you want?" he grumbled as he rolled to the other side and pulled the covers above his head.

"I just want to play," I said in a sing song voice, grabbing the covers and pulling them back.

"VIOLET!!!" Nicholas screamed bloody murder as he grabbed his pillow and began to hit me with it.

"Nicholas!" I exclaimed as i shielded my face with my arms.

"Do you still play like wolves?" we both heard our father and Nicholas stopped mid air. It was a little funny, how father could still get us so surprised into obedience.

"Father," Nicholas said and got up quickly, pushing me off the bed. I fell unceremoniously with a thud on the floor. Nicholas, with his fake concern, bent and helped me out. I pushed him away, straightening my tee and looked up to see my father's smiling hazel eyes , so similar to mine.

"Violet, did you just get off work?" he asked as he appraised my attire. I nodded once. "Well, we better head for dinner. I ordered Chinese."

I began to head out and father put his arm around my shoulders and leaned in to whisper in my ear.

"Now, what did I tell you about antagonizing your brother?" he chided and I giggled softly, stealing glances at Nicholas' murderous glare.

We headed downstairs for what I never knew to be the last time I would share a meal with my father.

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Hey guys!! So this is my first book, if you like it, please leave a vote or a comment!! Hope you all enjoy.