My brain did it again!

Chapter 9 - Feel That Beat! Boom Chicka, Boom!

Sang

Starbucks is such a wonderful place. Since I moved to Charleston, I have been one of their biggest fans. Being a writer, I need my coffee, because most of my ideas come to me at night or in the morning. When I'm taking a bath too. Okay, whatever. Anytime when I'm alone. It also happens every time Lacy's talking about Jefferson's butt, which is a lot. 

" Sang! "

Oh! My Mocha Frappuccino is ready. Yes, I'm aware that some people would say it's a coffee for children. I don't care. It tastes good and it keeps me awake. This Starbucks is my favorite because it's opened on Friday and Saturday from 5:30 AM to 11:00 PM. It's ten at night on a Friday and I can't sleep because my brain is having a party with a bunch of ideas for my new book. 

How can they not remember how to spell my name? I practically live here! Oh, right. It's the new French barista... Look at how he spelled it. Seriously? Sein-gneuh? Do you know what 'sein' means? It means breast. Gneuh means absolutely nothing. French people from France like to say it. I heard them say it a lot when I went in the south of France, but I still don't know why they say it. When they pronounce it, it sounds like they're disgusted. Does that mean that the barista finds me lacking in the boobs department? I mean, it's a possibility. Do I care, though? Not at all. 

" Misteur Blackbeurne! "

Well, with that accent, I can see how he wrote it... Poor guy. I wonder why he didn't give his first name? Maybe it's too easy to write it wrong. Maybe his name is foreign. Maybe his mother is from somewhere like Sweden or Germany. Not that he looks German or Swede. I mean, he could be. After all, Swedes love their coffee! I think I'm thinking too much. Yes, I am, like always!

He looks nice in his suit. Men in suits... Let me sigh for a second. His hair is perfectly coiffed and he's wearing a black pair of glasses and looks like a young businessman. I'd like to see if he looks always this proper. Taking his plastic cup, he frowns, looking at the name written on it. I crane my neck to try to see too and when he notices, he moves the cup around for me and I laugh out loud.

Mr. Blakeberne. 

Not even written like the barista said it. Wow. The man lifts a corner of his mouth in a millimeter smile, making my legs feel like it's melting. Am I a witch? Did someone throw water on my poor melting legs? I shall name him Mr. Oz. Yep! You can't write that wrong! Two letters, but so much power.

****

Ugh, I really need to relax! I have been writing for five hours straight. What should I do? Oh, yeah! I'm going to try the sauna I heard about! It's the only place I haven't been to in this building, I think. Let's sweat! Putting on my gray bikini with tiny pink hearts on it, I grab a towel and a water bottle and take the stairs. I'm sorry, but I'm still a little nervous around elevators since the day I met Silas.

Oh. It's already hot and foggy in here. I'm not alone then. Oh! By the name of all the naked dudes! 

****

Owen

It's two in the afternoon and I can finally relax. It's a challenge to be in a room with fourteen other men, talking about the same woman. That is not entirely true. Only the ones who met said woman were talking about her, while we who did not have the pleasure to meet her, were simply listening to what the others had to say. I'm starting to think that I did, in fact, saw her at the Starbucks. I heard the barista calling her Sang. She was also blonde, petite and adorable. And curious... And beautiful. Gorgeous, even.