coffee barista - l.s

I

day one -
moving day.

a month before everything came about, harry was kicked out of his apartment complex for playing too much classical music and smoking too many cigarettes. it was ridiculous, but he was planning on moving further into london anyway. so, that was that.

now, he stood in front of his new apartment complex, admiring the age of the building. the cab behind him honked, making him look back and grab his bags, sighing quietly. he was nervous, but inspired. he hauled his bags in, quickly walking to the elevator. now, he was more scared than nervous. the elevator made loud noises, cracking and squeaking; when he finally got to his floor, he was so relieved and thankful he didn't get trapped in there on his first day here.

it smelt musty, and old; a smell normally harry would admire on clothes or books. his apartment was nice though, had a nice view of the shops and local cafes; oh and traffic. a man helped bring his bags in, joking that he had rocks in his bags. harry didn't laugh, there were rocks in there. rocks from different places he's traveled; but harry put a smile on and tipped the guy with a five.

harry felt his stomach growl as he unpacked, standing up from going through his vinyl collection. he walked to his window and looked out, brushing some hair from his eyes. he spotted a café, titled 'rusty café.' he opened his wallet and pulled out a twenty and hummed, thinking of fresh pastries and warm coffee.

everything went blank. before he knew it, he was in the coffee shop, waiting in line for his order. the place smelt nice, better than his apartment. the theme is in fact rustic, nice touches. he didn't mind it at all, but the music played was annoying. the radio, filled with horrid pop songs and country music.

the barista was a short boy, well; short compared to harry by a bit. he had a light stubble, hair in a beanie and an apron wrapped around his neck. he seemed to be the only one working, and boy was he working. you could tell he was overwhelmed but he still kept his friendly smile on his face.

when it was harry's turn, he was greeted with a big smile, and a loud hello.

"uh, hello. um, it's my first time here.. can i order anything?" harry asked, looking around nervously.

"of course! i'll make whatever you want. we also have fresh pastries, as you can see behind me.." the boy laughed, wiping some sweat off his brow.

"well, great. i'll have a raspberry scone with a triple grande nonfat decaf iced latte, please." harry said with a small smile, watching the boy write the order down. "i'll have it out in a few! make yourself comfortable."

it only took a few minutes to make his order, already having paid; he took the drink and smiled, taking a sip. he began to walk to a table, looking at the cup which had a number instead of his name. "what the fuck?"

"is there something wrong sir?" louis frowned when he heard a customer unhappy. "yes, there is." harry said as he made his way back.

"how the hell did you get 216-548-9723 from the name harry?"

"um, it's my phone number. i want you to call me.." the boy, now acknowledged as louis from his name tag said, his face red.

harry looked back at the cup, a small smile on his lips before he walked out of the café back to his apartment to unpack and think about what happened just then.

word count: 627

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