Illusion; I

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~ Illusion ~

noun

{a deceptive appearance or impression.}

"Look, I'm not saying this hero exists. I'm saying there's no way this hero doesn't not exist, you know?"

Claire's frown deepened as she bit the side of her lip, looking at the person in front of her, currently the only customer in Starbucks. And even then, she never ordered any coffee.

Roxanne didn't like coffee. Her sweet tooth demanded anything unsweet be banished from her mouth. The slice of chocolate cake proved so. It was the only thing she'd ordered. At least she ordered something, or else she wouldn't be allowed to stay there.

"That makes zero-" The bell of the front door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. With what they call a million-dollar smile, Claire pushed herself off the wall she'd been leaning on, straightening her posture and the crinkles on her green apron. "Welcome to Starbucks, how may I take your order?"

Knowing that she needed to do her job, Roxanne went back to eating her cake and playing with her mini laptop, jotting down words with the speed and skill of a professional writer. She occasionally gazed at the notes sprawled out at her table, making sense of them like they weren't a bunch of gibberish, which to anyone else, they totally were.

Claire lightly shook her head at Roxanne before turning her full attention to her other, more sane costumer.

It was a man who didn't look that much older than them. He wore simple clothing; seasonal appropriate jacket, beanie, glasses, baggy jeans. Must be a college student. Why else would he look completely unplugged from reality?

Best of all, there was no aura of negativity coming from him, none more than the usual. The worst crimes he could have commited would be stealing a banana or pirate a movie, just like everyone else.

"Latte." His voice sounded so lifeless. Were she not serving this man, she would've winced at his tone.

Instead, she strained her mouth to keep smiling, even if it looked more like a grimace to those who paid attention, which neither the man nor Roxanne were. She gave a quick nod, took payment from him, then walked to the back to work the machine, preparing the man's drink for him.

If she was being completely honest, it looked like he should've gone to a supermarket and bought a few energy drinks instead of coming here to order simple coffee water. Weak coffee water at that.

But he was a customer, and his money goes towards her wage packet eventually, after many, many steps.

As the machine worked its magic, Claire took a deep breath, enjoying the nice aroma of the yet drinkable coffee beans. One of the few perks of working at Starbucks and actually liking the smell of coffee, she supposed.

"That makes zero sense, Rox," Claire mentioned to her friend as she worked, returning to the conversation they were having before Claire was rudely interrupted by someone making her do her job. "I know you love conspiracy theories, but this is nuts," she continued as she readied the milk for the latte.

The fast, hazardous typing sound stopped.

"No, it isn't!" There was a small 'thudding' sound, indicating Roxanne had closed her laptop. "You!" Claire could hear her pointing to her customer.

"Me?" The poor guy sounded confused.

"Yeah! You! Do you believe there is something out there that protects us from the dangers of the night owls!?" There was a small pause. A car, outside and at a distance, passed by. "Night assholes. Night ass-owls..."

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