chronicles of lovers.

꒰ the girl in the coffee shop ꒱ - jeongyeon.

꒰𖧧꒱ 𓂃 "I think we could do it we tried."

꒰𖧧꒱ 𓂃 "the girl in the coffee shop" ⸝⸝ yoo jeongyeon.

꒰𖧧꒱ 𓂃 song of the day: "sofía" by clairo.

ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ. ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ. ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ.ㆍ. ㆍ.

Society. How boring.

I'm the type of person who is usually in the spotlight; I love it, to be honest. I'm not shy, and I have always enjoyed being the center of attention since I was young. It's a talent, and for as much as people dislike me for that, I love what I do. It's not that "I crave attention", it's just in me––it always has been. The highest grades, school plays, oral reports, spelling bees, debate team––it's what I am. That's why it seems to many a surprise that I'm actually pretty introverted. Oh, don't get me wrong, I love talking to people, but sometimes, I just want to lock myself from people and be myself in my own, tiny world.

Life has been pink-colored all my life. I've gotten the best education, but in reality, it isn't what I like. I don't like studying, nor listening to what a haggy old professor has to say. I like writing poetry and trying different things, but I'm not here to follow rules. I'm not the girl next door; I'm just an individual being who likes attention and whose life has always surrounded around spotlights. I'm someone who likes to smile and read and write, for God's sake. I've been the kind to watch cartoons and fantasize on how I'm going to meet my one true love. Unexpectedly, perhaps. Maybe on a grocery store, on a trip to Disney, on an audition for my dream role, maybe even on the Internet. I'm a dreamer.

It took only a few seconds until the crisping smell of coffee filled my lungs; my favorite smell. I closed my eyes as I carried the thick sensation of six hundred and fifty-nine papers in my hand under the title of Stephen King's "The Shining", but the cold breeze of ground coffee in my lungs made it feel like a never-ending paradise of what felt like a room filled with people with individual lives, and individual problems of their own. I walked to the young lady in the cashier's counter and she smiled back. I looked at her and realized it was my friend, Rosie, in her usual six-hour shift. I looked at my phone and the clock read exactly 6:21 am.

"Y/n, dear! You're here earlier than usual. What would be your order? The usual? A warm macchiato with a sprinkle of cocoa powder and an old-fashioned doughnut in the side?" Rosie asked.

"Morning, R. And yes, that would be it," I said back, leaning on the counter.

Rosé looked at me and smiled, gently tapping on the big computer monitor in front of her.

"Is she here?" I whispered to Rosie, who was waiting for me to ask that question.

"Well, dear, Y/n-, she has not come here yet, which pretty much worried me. She's usually here first than you, but she should be here at any moment," Rosie answered.

I sighed at Rosé's comment, hoping that the girl would come today. There was this girl I had a crush on, that came to the coffee shop at a time similar to mine. She was usually in the coffee shop for about an hour, from 5:00 am to 6:00 and then she would leave. I had first seen this girl last year she I was graduating from high school. She looks a little older than me, most certainly. She has short purple hair and a big set of reading glasses. This girl intrigues me, in an odd way. She's a whole routine. She orders her big cup of black coffee and a honey-coated bagel, reads a book or writes stuff in a blue journal, and takes her leave.

"Well, I just stumbled upon a marvelous idea," Rosie said, handing me my doughnut and my coffee.

"And that would be?"