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New York cracked at dawn.
Zia Li sprung from her nestled place in her apartment, warm sunlight spilling into to room as golden sun rays. Packing her duffle bag with her ballet shoes and other necessities, she slipped out of the building with wired earbuds tucked into the spaces of her ears. She turned the corner of the street to get a whiff of freshly brewed coffee and customers beginning to flood the small shop, nestled between buildings and hidden with a small glow up sign. She loved it here.
She pushed through the gate that swung back and forth, in which a small white sign with the words 'Employees Only' plastered on the front. She smiled towards the workers behind the counter that fixed cups of steaming hot coffee and serving perfectly toasted bagels. "Good morning, Zia," one of the employees and greeted, her name tag sparkling with the word 'Yara' on the front. Her locks of waved hair were tucked behind a green and brown visor as she pored a steaming cup of coffee into a paper cup from a coffee mug. "Glad you could make it on time today to help me with customers." Her plump lips curled up into a smile.
Zia rolled her eyes. "Ha, Ha, Yara." She pushed into the back room where the employees came to take breaks and stuff their personal items in rusted metal lockers. Zia opened on which had a sticky note with her name in sharpie stuck onto the front. She stuffed her duffle back inside of the small space before twisting her hair into a bun and attaching a visor onto her head and fastening her name tags onto her apron.
She emerged from the back room and just exactly at 8:00am, a familiar face belonging to May Parker opened the glass door, a bell going off in the little shop.
May was a regular and happened to be the aunt of Zia's best friend — Peter Parker. Dorky and obsessed with Star Wars ( which bored Zia to death ) but her best friend since the fifth grade. Her aunt — long brunette hair which she cut short and slight wrinkles started to appear in thin lines on her face. She had aged well — except for the the streaks of white hair appearing in her locks. She smiled, her colored lips curling as she placed her hands onto the counter. "Good morning Zia. Hopefully I'm not that annoying by returning every other morning." She let out a laugh.
Zia shook her head. "No you're not Mrs. Parker —"
"Please Zia, call me May."
Zia nodded, her fingers gliding through the fallen strands of her hair. "Your regular? A plain bagel with a coffee, three creams and three sugars?" She tapped the order into the register, waiting for a response from the older woman.
"Of course. You still doing ballet?"
Zia sucked in a sharp breath, asking for the total amount of cash to pay for the small breakfast. "Yeah, I have a recital coming up in a week or so." She rubbed her neck and pinched the hairs that were on the back of her neck. "There's going to be some people from colleges viewing the performance so maybe I'll be accepted into an arts school."
