Through the Crowd - Espresseleine Story

Switch up

I was sitting at my desk, deeply focused on the book I was reading. The book was titled;
"The Basics of Being a Teacher - The Parfaedian Institute". Of course, I truly don't expect to follow any of these strange guidelines once I properly become a professor there, but we are required to read this, and I fear they might ask me questions on it later on. I am aware it most likely won't matter much if I know the answers to these hypothetical questions or not, but I would like to stay on the supervisor's good side. Otherwise, I have almost no income without this new job.

My apologies, I find myself to ramble more often then I would hope.

My study room is a well-lit room with boringly brown walls and flooring. I scribbled on my paper a little, crossing out a word that had no use in the roughly made paragraph I was writing anymore.

The ceiling feels low, decorated by the utmost poorly made light fixture I have ever seen, which is, put simply, only a lightbulb hanging down over where my desk is situated. The room isn't very large, either. The only things I can find myself to fit in it are my horribly cluttered desk, my coffee brewing table and a small bit of room to move around the both of them. This makes my work space a bit more frustrating then it needs to be, but I have come to terms with it.

I reached down beside myself to open the drawer attached to my desk and took out a few papers, splaying them across the surface in front of me. I stared at them for a moment without doing anything, hardly even thinking anything.

Then, I heard a knock at the front door. It was strange for the reason that most of my days pass boringly without much interaction, and, both fortunately and unfortunately, I don't have many cookies who I am acquainted with. Torn away from my "not-quite-there" state, I stood up from my desk and made my way out of my study room, then down the short hallway and to the door.

When I opened the door, there was a stubby, young looking cookie standing there. She was wearing full pink, including her hair, which had two large red berries on the sides of it that resembled buns, and was already holding out a letter for me to take. I will admit, it was a bit off-putting the way she looked as though she hadn't even taken the time to knock on the door, but I've made it this far without being horribly disfigured by a supernatural being, so I suppose it can't have meant anything.

That.. Was a joke.

I took the letter from her hands and thanked her, waiting for a response. She simply put her arms down by her sides and stood in front of the door. I didn't want to close the door in her face, but she was making no sign of moving, so I had no choice but to do it. Letter in hand, I went back to my study room, set it down on my desk, and opened it. Verbatim to my words, it read:

Espresso Cookie
You are cordially invited to a grand ball which will be held at the Hollyberry Palace. Please wear either a minimum 90% dark neutral colored or minimum 90% light neutral colored outfit along with a hat to match it if you so choose. Any and all cookies who do not abide by this dress code will be rejected at the gates.
The ball will begin at 9:00pm (21:00) and end at 2:00am (02:00) GCT on July 24th. There will be a slow dance during the ball; If you decide on a dance partner beforehand, please try to wear a contrasting outfit to your chosen partner. See more information on the backside.
- Hollyberry Cookie, Pure Vanilla Cookie & King Dark Cacao Cookie

I don't suppose they couldn't have taken up the majority of the invitation explaining the dress code, but it is what it is. In either way, I didn't think I'd be able to go- not unable, but unwilling. I don't very often go to over-the-top events such as a ball. Actually, I don't go to any events at all in general terms.

I had none an outfit to suit such a high end gathering of any kind, and I was not about to spend 800-1000 dollars getting so. I've already had to budget on almost everything for the past while, again upbringing the topic of not having a reliable source of income. And besides, deciding to go to such a thing would only lead to more research about the impossible customs and regulations of it all onto my back. So I supposed I must have had to miss out on an opportunity like, with the only reasons being that it was largely a waste of time and I would have felt nothing short of horrible embarrassment to show up in a decade old suit; that being the only one I owned at the time.

Only the day after the previous events I just described to you, I was making myself a small meal of whatever I had in my refrigerator in the moment, when my phone started to buzz. I left my solemn spot standing beside the counter waiting for the microwave to finish its cycle and took only a few steps over to my small passed-down dinner table to pick up my phone. It was Latte Cookie calling me.

I pressed the green answer button on the screen, and then the speaker phone one beside it. I always find it feeling awkward to not have it on speaker if there's no one around you might want to not hear your conversation, I'm not sure why.
Anyways, the call went somewhat as so:

"Hello Espresso Cookie!"
Sorry for my impression of Latte Cookie, I'm not great at these sorts of things.

"Hello Latte Cookie."

"How have your past few days been?"

"Like any other, with the exception that I have received an invitation to some Hollyberrian ball."

"Oh, I got one, too! You must go."

"No, I've better things to occupy my time with. And even if I didn't, I would have no outfit to go in."

"If I find a way to get you an outfit would you go?" Mind you, she clearly said this with a plan in her oh so brilliant head.

"I suppose I would have to."

"Wonderful!"

"I-"

"Oh, someone else is calling me, gotta go, goodbye!"

Now that I look back on it, it really was a painfully short conversation, although I must not assume she meant for it to be that way, because that would be a horribly rude thing of me to do. Then again, in what way have I ever really cared about whether I was rude or not, especially to someone who might put milk in their coffee? I simply detest such a laughable combination.

Once again, I will skip two days forward, because almost all the rest of my time before the sunset of the second day was only studying, with the occasional sip and brew of an espresso shot.

I opened the front door, and unfortunately, Latte Cookie was standing right on my small wooden porch. I inquired with her on what she was doing at my house, to which she told me she had found someone eager to get me an outfit. I asked her to inform me on who it was, but she explained that they had requested specifically that she didn't do so.

So I took the box she was holding by her side and thanked her. I wasn't exactly excited to offer for her to go inside my house and chat over a cup of coffee, or really to have any further conversation. Luckily for me, she must have gotten the message by the way I swung the door about ever so slightly to readily close it, and she said goodbye to leave.

I closed the door and took the box inside. It was wrapped neatly in dark pink paper and a brown string that held the lid on tightly. I set it down on my dinner table, which I am well aware sounds much like something I should not do, but it is mostly a table for all purposes that I call a dinner table. I untied the string and opened up the box, which inside revealed a small business card sitting on top of a dark brown folded over fabric.

I took the fabric from out of the box after briefly going over the small piece of paper and setting it on my table, carefully unfolding it to reveal a beautifully made black chocolate brown suit with little accents of dark red. It had a cape already attached to it, to which the edges of were lined with a sort of lighter brown 'fluff' material that ran along the bottom and the collar. I noticed a small signature woven onto the inside layer close to the bottom of the cape in a color almost no different from the base that read "Mont Blanc", although I do suppose that's where most cookies get their fancy outfits from since she opened her shop, so it was really nothing short of unsurprising. I tried on the suit, but in all honesty at the moment I felt a little silly. I had never worn something so expensive or fancy in my entire life.

I took off the outfit and went to my bedroom to hang it up in my closet in a space separated from the rest of my clothes. So I guessed I was going to the ball without much a way out of it.