Felix showed up to the same Starbucks again in hopes to see the blue eyed girl.
"Felix Summers," the barista called out his name. Today, as usual, he order a Frappuchino.
It was the girl again. He wanted to say something, but what was he to say? "You like your job here?" Or, "how's your day been?"
As simple as it would be to say just a few words to start the conversation, Felix's lips would not move.
He repeated over and over again the words he wanted to say as he stared at the petite girl, with his coffee in her hand.
Before she could notice he was staring at her for so long, he grabbed his coffee from her hand and accidentally touched her fingers in the process.
She didn't seem to notice, as she just smiled at him.
He tried to read her name tag before he turned around but soon realized that he had left his glasses at his table.
Of course.
Felix made his way back to his seat and began to drink his coffee, which unfortunately was too hot.
He had been to focused on the girl that he forgot to ask for some milk.
And now, he wasn't able to get up to ask from some because he was just too nervous.
He obviously got too much of the introvert gene from his mother.
He sipped his Frappuchino slowly and put in his ear buds to tune out the small chatter throughout the shop.
He grabbed his pencil and papers again and started to write his book. Being called "gay boy" didn't stop him from his passion.
Felix found that too many people neglected their talents because they were being called "gay" or "girls". He just didn't find a good enough reason to stop writing.