c a k e p o p

84.7K 4.1K 1.9K
                                    

"My problem is desserts. I am obsessed with desserts." – Sofia Vergara

■ □ ■ □ ■ □ ■ □

Fletcher's POV

"Waffle Cones is closing down."

The words rushed out of Fletcher at once, having built pressure against his sealed lips for days. Even so, the sentence was barely above a whisper. The weight of the news had anchored down his spirits so much that he couldn't say more than a sentence at a time. Words hardly left his mouth, and those that did were starting to have a bad taste.

"What?!" The other side of the call shouted as Fletcher hung up. He couldn't bear to hear any more devastation, having listened to enough gripe from his co-workers. Fletcher tossed his phone in the general direction of the couch, which he hadn't yet burned since Erin and Alex tainted it with their gooey romance. The phone landed with a thump, making a dent in the blankets on top.

"What was that?" Upon hearing the sound, Alex poked his head into the room. Dark bags decorated the dim blue of his irises, his blonde locks disheveled. Stray hairs stuck out in every direction, like they wanted to jump off his scalp and find a new home on a tidier head. His appearance paled in comparison to Fletcher, who probably resembled a trash can since he had not left the room for days, but Fletcher had no urge to grab a mirror and see.

Alex's appearance reflected the collective emotions of the Waffle Cones employees. His effort to appear presentable had evaporated since Melanie announced the shop was closing down, to make space for an enterprise which wanted to expand their business. Since the entrepreneurs practically bathed in cash, they bought the land which housed Waffle Cones and other stores, which gave Fletcher an urge to find them and break their noses.

"Just broke the news to Emily," Fletcher chirped, attempting a cheerful tone to raise their spirits. Alex was clearly not convinced by his nonchalance, but didn't comment on it either. "She seems disgruntled."

"Disgruntled is a mild way of putting it," commented Scarlett, a co-worker and cousin of Erin. Her mahogany hair swished past in loose waves as she trailed her mop across the floor, which had become stained from age. "Besides, why does she care so much about this store? She doesn't even work here."

"Who asked for your opinion?" Alex retorted, eyes throwing off blue sparks of annoyance. Scarlett almost skidded over a puddle of water while Fletcher's jaw dropped at his outburst. Alex was the ice angel to Erin's fire demon, the one who always kept his head screwed on the right way, so neither Scarlett nor Fletcher had seen him lose control before.

Scarlett directed her hurt expression at the patch of floor she was mopping. The perky hum which started up when she joined the conversation was snuffed, as quickly as a gust of wind extinguishing a candle. The tension was thick enough to cut through with a butter knife, but none of the three had gathered enough courage to break the silence.

"Guys," Fletcher eventually said, a nervous edge to his tone. "Lighten up. There are loads of other places we can find jobs at, so this isn't the end of the world. I'm sure Emily will cool down soon. In the meantime, can you two stop being at each other's throats?"

Alex and Scarlett exchanged worried looks, as though their argument moments before had never happened. "Fletcher, you can't hide out from this forever." Scarlett chose her words with precision. "I take back what I said. I know Emily means a lot to you, and I'm sorry for doubting that. You should talk to her."

"Scarlett, don't worry. I'm fine," Fletcher reassured her, but he inhaled a breath of doubt. The realization that he had broken the news to Emily began to settle in. Anxious jitters erupted in his stomach.

Waffle Cones (#1)Where stories live. Discover now