Chapter Text
Alex Fierro never liked his job, or his assigned gender at birth, or his job. Yeah, his job sucked more than any other jobs he had taken over the years he had lived alone. How many months has it been since the last time he had taken a decent job with a decent pay? Two? Three? He had lost track of how many part-time jobs he had took just to suffice his needs for money to pay rent and food for. And let’s just say, he’d ran out of options, life was hard and there was definitely no way to deny it.
He had his chin on his palm, the counter pasted coldly on his elbow. Yesterday night, he had drowned himself with five mugs of coffee just to stay awake whilst reading about the discussion in his class. Sure, he did live alone and had a somewhat stable income for himself, but the full scholarship he got with the help of his sister was still a thorn on his side and he wasn’t going to risk it just for his self-indulgence of having too much time to sleep. Nor did he enjoy the thought of having to relax more—even though that’s all he craves for as of the moment—because if he relaxes, he’ll get nothing done, therefore being useless and he hated feeling that.
Today, as an overwhelmingly paradoxical occurrence, he felt utterly useless. He just stood on the counter, managing it and taking up orders. His brain went on and on about how he could be doing something else—anything else!—than wait for people to come in. The food being served did not help, too. They looked so delicious, Alex wanted to digest all of them. But he let his hunger fly by as he quietly cursed and told himself for this day would pass and how he will be so happy once he gets the money he needs.
“That would be $15, ma’am.” He said as the woman handed her 20 bucks, smiling slightly at him with that dazed expression of admiration. Or you know, whatever it is that you look onto someone you idealize upon staring at. And well, let’s just say Alex Fierro loves how those gazes inhabit strangers’ eyes on some days. He was adorable, and he knew that. Not anything new, really! But it gets so old.
“Thank you,” she smiled meekly before having an internal monologue that Alex could make out for himself because he could see her lips moving on and about. She was about to leave when she turned back to him, with a shy smile pasted on her face. “Uh, what’s your name?”
Alex expected that. (Gets old, he tells you!) It always arrived, honestly. One of these days another person would come fort and ask him for his name or number, even his location at times and really, he was growing tired of it. Boys will flirt at him and he didn’t quite fancy it as much as he fancied women gawking at him. Men barked at him like wolves of predation, women were silent and soft—and quite pleasant when it came to compliments.
But as much as he was flattered by the woman wanting to know more about him, Alex never had the time for anything serious. So every time he gets interrogated, even when he actually finds the person attractive, he just smiles at them and says, “A waste of your time, really.” And they would get confused and assume he’s an emo who has freakishly green hair and heterochromatic eyes, or just plain rude. But that was the only way he could think of that would not lead anyone on.
And today was no special day for changing decisions, he gave the girl the same smile with the same statement, and she just laughed awkwardly and walked away with her takeout coffee. That’s nice, Alex said thought. No problem.
Except that his shift was completely not done yet, and all he wanted to do was lay back on his bed and sleep. And besides that, he also realized that yes, this was the worst part-time job he’d ever worked for. One, was because the workplace was so aesthetically pleasing and relaxing that you just have to stop and appreciate the atmosphere—and he hated that he had to rush, and manage and take up orders and well, he just wanted to sit down at one of the window-side tables and read a book while listening to music. Which was quite paradoxical to the thought of hating being still. He dreaded the idea of just being there, unable to move, being drowned in a system that he so did not want to be in. And additionally, was that he had to either rush at times because there were too much customers, or wait patiently for people to arrive whilst not looking bored or sleepy, because who wants to dine in a café with a too done-with-life-looking cashier?
The best part was when he actually waited tables, he usually finds one way or another to dare himself. For example, he needed to finish waiting ten tables in the span of three minutes, but only for those who didn’t need much time with their orders. One time, he challenged himself to wink at one guy customer and well, that ended up bad. It is this little game he plays with himself. Anything to make this place more bearable.
“Alright Alex,” said Mallory from behind him. “Time to wait them tables.” Alex just shrugged off and started walking towards the sea of tables. He inspected the tabletops and see how messed up some are, but well, they were clean and spotless save for the fact that there were crumbs and empty plates with remnants of cream, not to mention the amount of coffee mugs emptied by customers. He started gathering some, since there were a lot of vacant tables at the moment and only about ten people were in the rather spacious café he was working on. During these time of his shift was when he was at ease, like only doing household chores but relatively earning money. He is otherwise usually very laidback, but he needed this more than anything, so he cannot complain much now can he?
After successfully cleaning ten tables in a small amount of time, as a challenge, he finally decided on approaching customers who haven’t ordered yet. His eyes flew to his favorite part: the window-seats that had the most aesthetically pleasing vibe. The windows were massive, but they didn’t stretch all the way to the floor as it did all the way to the ceiling. There were railings with vines of plants coating the top part of it, almost creating a canopy—which was lovely since the café had this vintage touch to it. Everything was wood and beige in the café, save from the few paintings here and there, clear jars with small bouquets and gold-flashed lightbulbs. He let his eyes drift to the wooden tables in the farthest end and saw a glimpse of gold.
He hurriedly walked towards the table occupied by a blond guy. His hair was in braids, adorned by a few gold bands. As he approached, he saw small details making sense in his vision. The sun hit his skin as it made its deep umber gleam, and he didn’t seem to bother as his stormy grey eyes looked down to whatever he’s writing—no, Alex thought as he realized what he’s doing. He’s drawing, he thought as his eyes widen at the beautiful customer’s actions. He’s drawing on the table!
As if his mouth was sewn shut, he just stood there, beside the customer doodling Saturn and the moons and stars on the table. He even heard a faint hum coming from the guy's earphones. Golden braids reached down to his shoulders, as half of it was tied up. His fingers dance with the sharpie, embellishing the wood in doodles you would find on journals, diaries, the universe. Alex was not gonna lie about the fact that he found him extremely attractive, but these oak tables were not just something to just take out a market at and scribble on to. He quickly shook out of his post shock and cleared his throat, feeling irritated because he now had to deal with this guy’s bullshit. What would he tell his manager? That he just stood there while the beautiful guy had put him in a trance because of the freckled bridge of his perfect nose, stormy grey eyes and the little smile of enjoyment on his face as he enjoyably vandalized the table? “Uh, sir,” he tapped the blond’s shoulder as he only looked up.
Goddammit. He protested as the storms in his eyes suddenly calmed and turned to innocence, as if he was not vandalizing the damn table! Don’t get Alex wrong, the doodles were pretty nice and cute, but he didn’t want to deal with bullshit.
”Oh, yeah, my order.” The guy spoke, as he removed an earbud. And as if cream had gauged out of his seams. His voice was almost a lull, almost incoherent to Alex as he stared at him. He spoke in the calmest way possible, but he knew that wasn’t it. Alex looked for the small part of him that was relentless, because this was just some other customer breaking the café’s small rules plastered on the doors, and just tell the guy off and fetch his manager or something. But no, he stood there, swallowing and taking in deep breathes as if waiting for the right words to say.
But no words were coming and he just got panicky and upset with himself for not making a quick decision and being so goddamned fixated on the gleam of sunshine in his eyes that bears storms.
He shook the doubt off his shoulders and finally spoke the only thing that was on his mind besides the thought of his attractively cute this person was.
“Yeah, so, why the fuck are you vandalizing our tables?”