The Usual... A Max Schneider Fan Fiction

Prologue: The First Time in a Long Time

~ Lost and insecure... You found me ~

Prologue: The First Time in a Long Time

I looked up from my book, hearing the gentle tinkling of the bells that hung above the entrance to the coffee house. Two older women with soft, white hair came in and sat at the booth in the very back by the window, talking and chatting and laughing like they'd known each other for years. I smiled at them as they passed, taking out my pad and pen and walking over to them.

"Hi, Simmy," one of them said, watching me approach. I smiled gently.

"Hello, Anne," I said. "Hi, Sally. Would you like your usuals?"

They both nodded. "What did you bake to have in the counter today?" Anne asked.

I chuckled. "Banana nut bread, brownies, and some fruit tarts."

Sally's eyes lit up. "Ooh, I'll take a brownie."

Anne nodded. "Make that two, dear."

I nodded and wrote it down, returning to behind the counter to fix their orders. I began on the coffee, their usual, listening to the hum of idle chatter in the shop and the piano music that played in the background.

The bells tinkled again, announcing the arrival of another customer. I smiled at the sound, turning and looking over my shoulder to see if they were another of my regulars. I furrowed my eyebrows at the sight my eyes met though, my hands stopping where they'd rested on the two mugs of coffee for the women.

A young guy, about my age, stood by the door, slowly tugging his coat off and hanging it on the rack beside the front mat. He pulled his grey beanie off, exposing short, dark brown curls that sat tousled on his head. He was short, maybe five foot four, with black combat boots strapped tightly to his feet, a pair of maroon skinny jeans on his legs and a white t-shirt underneath a thin grey zip-up hoodie. It was his eyes that made me stop though; his bright brown eyes that screamed hurt.

He was a regular alright; but not the regular I was used too, and one I hadn't seen in six months.

The man looked so lost it almost hurt, taking tentative steps towards the bar, where he'd always sat, pulling himself onto one of the comfortable barstools and looking down at his hands. Upon seeing him closer, I saw it must've been snowing outside in the cold Chicago air, since his hair was flecked with snowflakes that were slowly melting away in the comfortable warm of the shop, and his cheeks were flushed a gentle pink. I slowly turned back to the order for Anne and Sally, putting their drinks and brownies on a tray.

"I'll be with you in a moment, sir," I told him as I passed. He almost jumped at my voice, before slowly nodding and looking back at his hands.

"Take your time..." he told me quietly, his voice softer than I remembered it. I thought long and hard about all the times he'd come in here before, when he'd smiled and laughed bigger than the anyone I'd ever known. He always came in here with a pretty young girl, his girlfriend, I could only assume by the way they held hands and exchanged kisses. They'd come in here four or five times a week, order the same thing most of the time, talk for a while, and they'd leave, smiling and laughing like nothing in the world could go wrong. Incidentally though, I'd never managed to catch either of their names.

I slowly made my way back to the counter after I'd dropped off Anne and Sally's order, standing in front of him and smiling gently. "Your usual?" I asked him, trying to be soft. His brown eyes met mine, his eyebrows furrowing with confusion.

"I haven't been here in six months," he said. "How do you remember my usual?" he asked. I laughed gently, smiling warmly at him.

"You came in here regularly for about a year," I reminded him. "It's hard to forget an order like that when you make it so often."