Jori Collections: 2017-2021

(9.10.18) Coffee - M, 6.1k [A*]

["You could... You nearly... No. You did..."]

Everything's busy, and it irritates you. There isn't room for you to think like there always is. Not by the chalkboard with the perfectly drawn menu—which never impressed you anyway. Not by the stools set up at the front, which has a row of business-looking men with wide newspapers. The tables are crowded with talkative people, too, and the couch that sits in the middle is flooded with mothers and their rowdy kids.

All at seven-thirty when the sun has already disappeared under the horizon.

You look down at the slip of paper in your tense hands. Frowning, you move your thumb; within the hour of clamping so hard on it, you've managed to smudge the thick, bold print.

Stargazer II: Reckoning Force—6:10pm.

Because it was worthless, you decide to let it go. It flutters into a small trashcan which was immediately filled with another three cups of garbage. As if none of it mattered, you think bitterly. The lengthy line (because there's that too) shortens, and you follow because damn it, you want to put yourself through something. To think, at least. But, as you know, you can't because of the packed, small space around you. Your head's being played with until it melts into a mass of sludge as you step forward once, and then twice, and then five times, eight, eleven...

"Good evening, what could I get for you today?"

You blink at the cheery employee, who had her hair tied up in a tight ponytail, almost as tight as her smile. There's bags under her eyes, and her make-up is not as sharp as it had been when originally applied. And because you completely understand her, you give yourself the same, fake smile. "Black coffee, two—" You pause, reconsidering. "Black coffee, three sugars." You need something that'll slap you. So three sugars, not two.

"Okay," the barista nods as she mumbles, "that's three dollars and ninety-five. Name?"

"Jade and here," you grumble, almost throwing her five dollars. "Keep the change." The barista looked almost relieved at not having to count bills and coins.

"Have a good day."

You purse your lips. "Sure."

You wait off to the side, with others. They watch their watches or phones, and you decide you should too. Once opening to the home screen, your eyes trail to the fourteen missed messages and calls collectively. Instead of checking the time, you turn off your phone entirely, and stuff it into your pocket. There wasn't any need. You didn't need to look at any of them. Not now.

"Derek!"

The man beside you moves to the counter, grabbing his own drink and sandwich. Wasn't he before you? You think so.

"Jade!" Yes, he was. You move to the counter and grab the one item you bought without so much a smile. And then you walk straight out the café, and into the brisk night air. It's cold against your cheeks, but the coffee helps with that. It also helps to sit you down, your mind free to think through everything.

Where did this shit show start? You swallow two gulps at a time, groaning into your cup. It burns your throat, though you don't mind. You deserve it, right?

You do...don't you?

— — — — — — — — —

The door opened, and there they were. Tori and Beck, her hands vigorously rubbing whatever off his chest. "Dude, why you rubbing on my boyfriend?" It was the first thing to fly out of your mouth, your annoyance at its maximum.