Street Youth Rising ~Septiplier~

Cold Coffee

--Mark--

I've been sitting here for the past thirty minutes, waiting on my brother to get off work. His shift ends at five and it's only four in the evening right now. I've been looking for ways to pass the time. Chatting with staff members, drawing on myself with a red fountain pen, singing loudly and obnoxiously to the tables and walls of the deserted little café, daydreaming, and I even took the rolling chair out of the managers office, rolling around the Carson's floor while I squealed and giggled like a giddy little schoolgirl. At least until I got scolded by Michael Carson, the owner. Then all of a sudden, there was nothing to do but sit and stare out the window. Dreadful silence hung around me. It was quiet. Too quiet. In fact, it was so quiet, I could hear the ringing in my ears as if I had just gone completely deaf. Nothing else to do but sip on an ice cold coffee my brother made for me.

Bored out of my mind, I pick up my library book and start reading, taking in each and every word. Imagining it in my head as if I were the main character. I often wondered if I was the only one who did that. Imagined myself as the main character of a book or movie, as to enjoy it more. That's what I was doing with this book. I was soaking it up.

"The Unbecoming of Myra Dyer" was one of my favorite books. It was beautifully written and often, I felt connected to Myra in a lot of ways. No one understands me either. I keep to myself best I can. I was like her in different ways. I could relate to her story and I definitely held onto the book, barely breaking focus. Myra and Noah slowly falling in love. Noah trying to help Myra figure out her problems and help her in her struggle with PTSD and deliriousness. It was a very good book. That I'd recommend to anyone "coming of age" as my dad said. I wished that my dad would realized that, for me, coming of age was about when you were thirteen and exploring life in the eyes of adults.

After a few minutes of reading, the bell to the café chimed. A simple ding sounded throughout the empty area. I grew curious, but tried to pay no mind to a customer walking in. This place was basically dead at the moment, so someone coming in was a bit of a shock. However, I was just too engrossed in the book I was reading. At least until I heard an Irish voice. One that was rich. A thick accent that made my heart fall into the pit of my stomach.

My mouth nearly hit the floor at his voice and my face heated. I hadn't even gotten a glance at him yet. I didn't have to get a glance to know it was Jack. I didn't have to look into his bright blue eyes or see his dyed green hair to know who he was. I heard his voice and I could just tell it. It sounded like he was a regular customer here, as if he staff knew him. The cashier, who went by Liam, seemed to know Jack personally. Very well, as a matter of fact.

I listened in until I heard Jack mumble something about a pickpocket, before the cashier spoke up.

"I can't serve if you can't pay, my friend." I heard the cashier say. At these words, my mind left my library book completely. I bit my lip before quickly deciding what to do. Without even thinking about the words that came out of my mouth, I called out through the empty space.

"I'll pay for it." I sat down my book and stood up, earning a confused look from Jack.

"Mark?" He asked, dumbfounded.

Liam and Jack had their eyes on me and I felt naked beneath their gazes, making me fidget uncomfortably. What came over me? I have no clue. All I know was I regretted even thinking about breathing a word to them. I wanted to crawl under the table and die of embarrassment at my stupidity to just stand up and blurt out something as to play the hero of Jacks situation. Now I was wishing I would have kept my mouth shut. Within moments, my cool aura of "I have got this" turned into one of "I'm a fucking idiot". I was making it even worse now, as I just stood there staring Jack in the eyes, my hands shoved into my pockets and my frame slightly slouched in defeat. I stuttered as I spoke this time.