Chapter Text
Chapter 1
To say that Max felt a little overwhelmed by the sensations would probably have been an understatement. He was standing in the middle of the street, with a bus fourth his size honking at him because of course he had been looking into the wrong direction before crossing the road right where Liverpool Street Station had spit him out. He knew that rush hour was still hours ahead, and yet he was already surrounded by a type of busy that Amsterdam couldn’t even master in the evening traffic. He hurried to get to the other side of the street, where he was pushed aside by people running in and out of a Tesco, and took a deep breath once he had his back against the cool wall of a building, head hitting the stone with a small sigh.
He was already late, had no idea where to go because his internet connection was dying on him since he’d left the underground, it looked like it was about to start raining any minute and all in all, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine a more unpleasant first day in London.
He didn’t even want to be in this stupid city with stupid people with stupid fucking rain that was still in stupid Europe and wasn’t New York or Singapore or basically any other city on the other side of an ocean that would have brought him away from his dad just once.
He had dreamed of getting away once and for all, of not coming back, like Vic had done when she’d went away. But he had been kicked out of the house before he had been able to do anything with his life, really, and when Chili had said that he had an uncle who was always looking for willing work-and-travellers to help out at his place, Max had agreed. Better a shitty time 357,43 km away from his dad than having to share a city, or even, a country with him and feel his scrutinizing gaze all over him 24 hours a day. He hadn’t been able to breathe in Amsterdam anymore, not with everything that had happened, and he had been more than glad when the opportunity to get away for real had arisen.
But now that he was actually here, with the first drops of rain hitting his styled hair, lost between Tesco and a KFC, Max couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t really think this through. That he had only ever been to London once, on a school trip, and that he had hated it. He had wanted to make it to Singapore or L.A. or just any place with rooftop bars and hot girls in short dresses and the sudden realization that he’d be stuck here, in the cold, working all day, was a bit of a… bummer.
He could hear his dad’s voice in his head, could see the smirk on his lips if he’d be able to see Max now, could feel his amused gaze burning on his skin, the way he’d say “I told you so” before his face would take the sharp lines of disappointment.
Max grit his teeth, so hard he could hear them grinding, and straightened his back.
How fucking hard could it be to find this goddamn shop? He unlocked his phone once again, discovering that the supermarket provided customers with wifi and – once connected with the system – followed his phone’s instructions.
He passed a place that read “Old Spitalfield Market” on his way, turned around a few corners and pushed past some tourists until he found himself in a semi-busy street with a couple of restaurants, pubs, something that looked like an outlet store to him, and a club that was obviously closed at this hour of the day.
He looked at the storefront photo Chili had sent him before he’d boarded the plane and compared it to the place on the other side of the street. Shrugging his shoulders, Max crossed the road and examined the business from the outside.
The wooden storefront with huge windows that almost went all the way down to the pavement was painted in a dark shade of olive that almost seemed anthracite and some of the warm light spread by rustic lamps hanging from the ceiling made it outside, drawing Max to step inside.
Hesitating, he opened the door, which made a jingly sound, and entered the coffee shop that was basically everything he had expected a metropolis café to be.
Old, yet trendy wooden floorboards creaked faintly under his shoes, and his gaze wandered through the room which was illuminated in warm light.
By the large windows, there were several groups of tables and chairs, some assembled with lounge furniture with emerald green velvet fabric, a mixture of materials from bright, new wood one could almost still smell to artificial dark metal and copper decorations. On the other side of the store, there was the shop counter, half wooden, half covered in small white tiles – the same kind that covered the back of the store, copper coloured lamps hanging from the ceiling to illuminate the work area with coffee machines and a showcase with several baked goods and sandwiches.
The coffee shop was about half full, with chatter filling the room, the scent of roasted coffee beans and sweet somethings filling the air.
Max instantly liked the place, that much he couldn’t deny. But he wasn’t here for a macchiato and a cupcake – he was here to work. And he was late, on his very first day, which didn’t exactly help with his mood. Now he had to go and find this uncle of Chili, of whom he didn’t even know his full name (“he goes by Nando!”).
Somewhat embarrassed by his own time management, Max stepped towards the counter, his gaze falling on a man with dark hair that had his back turned to him and was currently cleaning one of the machines. His physique resembled the picture of this Nando that Carlos had shown him and the dark hair fit as well.
Max awkwardly cleared his throat to grab the man’s attention, who just raised his hand in a “one moment” kind of way, keeping Max waiting with his weight shifting back and forth from one leg to the other.
When the guy wearing an olive-coloured apron that matched the storefront eventually did turn around, Max felt a bit taken aback. First, because this definitely wasn’t the man from Chili’s picture, and second, because the guy now standing in front of him was grinning at him with the widest smile Max had ever seen on a human being and oh my god, didn’t that hurt?
The guy had curly black hair and kind brown eyes, a bit of a big nose and arms and hands covered in several tattoos. He looked South-European to Max – another one of Chili’s cousins?
His gaze dropped to the curly head’s name tag, but before he had the chance to read the name, the guy asked “What can I get you?” and made Max’s gaze snap back up.
Something about the way he had said these words didn’t ring true to Max’s ears – that definitely wasn’t a British accent, neither was it a Spanish one, and therefore caught Max’s curiosity, as it didn’t sound European at all.
“I’m Max,” Max eventually said, as if that explained everything, and the guy behind the counter – now that Max had the chance to read the tag – who was apparently named Daniel, just raised one eyebrow in amusement.
“G’day Max. I’m Dan. What can I get you?”
“N-no,” Max said, cursing himself for making the word come out stuttering, “I’m here to see Nando?”
“Oh, I see,” Dan nodded, cleaning his hand with his apron before he reached it out, over the counter, “you’ve gotta be the Dutch guy, right?”
The Dutch guy.
“I think so?”
“Nando told me you’d have your first day today,” Dan smiled, another one of these gigantically big smiles that seemed surprising unnatural and natural at the very same time.
“How was the flight?”
“Uhm-…” Max made, caught by surprise by the non-work-related question, “okay, I think?”
The Dan guy chuckled softly, “I reckon you think a lot.”
“Uh….”
Dan laughed and he leaned back against a coffee machine, “Don’t worry. I think Fernando will be back some time later in the day, until then I can show you where everything is, okay?”
Max nodded silently, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat. This Dan was a bit overly cheery for Max’s taste and he also didn’t know what to make of his ever-lasting megawatt smile.
Dan made a gesture telling him to follow him behind the counter and through a transit that lead into another room only opened for staff, with a small kitchen, several chairs, cupboards, brooms, and lots of other stuff. There was also a circular staircase leading upstairs, which was covered in plants.
“This is where you can get your apron,” Dan explained to him and pulled a folded piece of fabric out of a cupboard, handing it to Max, “I think this one should fit.”
He then explained to him that it was fine to wear his own clothes underneath, as long as they were all – or at least mostly – black.
“Normally, Nando and Dave are here as well, with Dave working the kitchen shift at this hour of the day, but he’s called in sick today and Nando is currently shopping for groceries.”
He then followed the other guy, who seemed to be at least several years older than him, back into the café.
“Have you ever worked as a barista before?”
Max shook his head and bit back the “I don’t even like coffee”.
“Okay, well. It takes some time to learn how everything works, but you’re lucky that you’ll be assisting my shifts for the next couple of days. I’m a good teacher,” Dan said and smiled again. Max wasn’t so sure if it was meant to be reassuring. All it did was leave him a bit confused.
“Where are you staying?”
“Uh,” Max was momentarily confused by the question, having expected something more work-related, and Dan repeated his sentence.
“I’ll be staying with… Fernando? At least as long as it needs to find another place.”
He pointed at the bag of clothes he had brought with him.
“Ah, okay! How long do you wanna stay in London, then?”
“Um,” Max made, instantly feeling uncomfortable while he could feel his cheeks flushing, “I don’t know yet.”
Dan, who had obviously sensed his discomfort, shot him a curious glance but didn’t push the subject, for which Max was thankful.
“C-can you show me how to work the machines?”
That made Dan chuckle again, a dark rich sound that didn’t really fit his big smiles.
“Now, you’re quite eager to work, aren’t you?”
“Well, I’ve already come in late, so…” Max mumbled, his cheeks still burning hot. His words drew another soft laugh from the older guy.
“Dude, this is a café run by a Spaniard. Clocks run different here.”
Max shot Dan a tentative smile, nodding slowly.
“Although I’ve gotta say that nothing works here without someone making sure stuff gets done, so I really appreciate you wanting to be punctual,” Dan added, the corners of his mouth once again twitching and eventually curling up into another smile.
“Man, I’m really happy to finally have a co-worker again! Single shifts suck.”
Without a warning, Max got pulled into a loose hug, with Dan clapping his back once, before he was released again.
“I’m sure we’ll make a great team, Maxy.”
Max nearly choked on the nickname he hadn’t been called by since he’d been a child, a half-hearted smile playing on his lips.
He wasn’t sure what to make of this Daniel-dude and if he wasn’t depended on this job, then he would have told him to cut the Maxy-bullshit immediately.
But with the way things were, Max was – at least for the moment – stuck at this place, with a co-worker who apparently had challenged the sun herself to a duel.