stuck on you || draxler

deux

mardi 15:23

Les Rosiers was the name of the café Marcelle Vaugrenard worked at.

It was a low-key café in the city of Paris, hidden off in an alleyway in the sixteenth arrondissement with a few tables outside. Translating into the rosebushes, it was a food favorite of many native Parisians. Les Rosiers was sometimes mentioned as a must try for anyone visiting the city, coming up in the first page of a Yelp search.

And it was the one job Marcelle hadn't been fired from during her time here in Paris. Well, that was only because they didn't have enough servers, so they just had to keep her.

If you asked her, she wouldn't say that her time working at Les Rosiers was all fun and rainbows. Actually, it was quite the opposite.

She absolutely despised waking up early in the morning to look somewhat decent for a job she didn't even like in the slightest. It reminded her of school—something she also wasn't very fond of. But it wasn't like she had a choice. It was already difficult enough to find a job when she first moved to Paris, she could only imagine the trouble it was to find work now.

Maybe Marcelle was exaggerating about how much she hated working here because right now, it actually wasn't that bad.

It was three in the afternoon, and Marcelle sat behind the counter waiting for a customer to come in—which didn't seem likely.

"Slow day today," Yvonne commented, playing with a pen as she leaned by the counter. "Usually, we'd have our hands full by now."

Marcelle let out a breathy laugh. "It's three o'clock on a Tuesday, Yvonne. Some people don't have the time to stop and eat a café." Even on weekdays, Les Rosiers would be busy with servers flying out of the kitchen with plates in their hands. "It's good we don't have a lot of customers. We don't have to rush around while serving seven tables at once."

"You're right. Now, you won't bump into me and drop two plates on the floor."

"That was one time!" She stood up, laughing.

Despite it being a three o'clock Tuesday afternoon, the café still managed to have a few customers, most of whom sat inside, away from the cold January weather. But some prefer the outside tables—and by some, I mean the one person who just came by and sat themselves outside.

"This one's yours, Marcelle," Yvonne said, making the other turn her head.

"What?" she exclaimed. "I'm not going out there! It's practically freezing out there!"

"I did all the outside orders yesterday, and it was colder." Yvonne handed her the notepad and pen, gently shoving her towards the door.

The twenty-one year old Frenchwoman eventually sucked it up and made her way outside. Just she had said—it was freezing.

January weather in Paris wasn't quite the ideal weather for someone to have a meal outside. It rained last night, and it was forecasted that it would rain yet again tonight. And for Marcelle, she had football training after she got off from work, so she wasn't a big fan of this kind of weather either.

She shivered as the cold air met her skin, even though she was wearing a long sleeved sweater. "Bonjour, vous avez—" She paused as the man removed the menu from his face. "Julian."

He grinned and placed the menu flat on the table. "Nice to see again...Marcelle? Right?"

"Um, do I know you?"

"You don't remember? I'm your new boyfriend," he said, causing Marcelle to promptly roll her eyes, annoyed. "What's a girl like you working at a café? I expected you to be somewhere...not here."