Chapter Text
I quickly brushed my hands off onto my apron before walking to the back room. Glancing at my watch, I groaned. It was too early to be awake. Well, I didn’t feel awake, but I tried my hardest to appear coherent. My eyes scanned the shelf full of metallic-looking bags until I found the one I needed.
“Didn’t expect to see you here this early.”
“Good morning to you too, Atlas.” Grabbing the full bag of espresso beans, I chuckled. “I requested this afternoon off.”
Pushing my way back through the swinging door, I plopped the bag on the counter. The cafe was really quiet in the mornings before we opened. It was nice to see it this way before the rush of equally tired people waiting to get their dose of beans.
“Well if you ever want to switch permanently to mornings, I can maybe convince Lansen.” Atlas stood at the end of the counter tying his apron around his waist.
I liked working the afternoon shifts, but it is nice working morning shifts when you end your shift at noon. Yeah, waking up at 3 am to get ready for work is the least fun thing to do in the world, but it beats retail.
I shrugged and continued filling the machine with the beans, “When you’re done clocking in, can you finish setting up while I count in the back?”
Looking over to Atlas, he nodded. He didn’t mind staying out front all morning if I’d let him. Paperwork was his enemy.
We were both some of the only shift leaders at this cafe. Most employees were either underage, newer hires, or simply just didn’t want the responsibility. Atlas was a very charismatic people-person who is perfect for customer interaction while I was…well let’s just say I liked doing back-of-house paperwork.
Walking over to my side, he bumped my shoulder to give me the queue that he will take over. Before pushing past the door, I switched on the speakers and put on the “manager-approved playlist” which mostly just consisted of repetitive weird piano and smooth jazz.
I placed the register drawers on the desk and got to counting. My head bobbed to the awkward sound of cups clanging and off tempo trumpet. Checking the clock on the office wall, I stood up and sighed.
Jamming the drawers back into the registers, I heard Atlas humming to the speaker’s music. He always seemed too happy in the mornings. I watched him lightly dance around behind the bar as he made iced tea.
“Going to the restroom quickly before we open in 10.”
I untied my already somewhat messy apron and placed it behind the counter before walking off. The bathroom was well-lit and clean. Thankfully the closers did their job yesterday without me around.
My tired reflection stared back at me in the mirror. In a rush, I could only manage to throw a beanie over my blonde hair and had to skip the contacts today. I pulled off my round wire-framed glasses to give them one last clean before inevitably becoming covered in splashes of coffee during my shift. I already couldn’t wait to go home and shower.
“Got any plans this weekend?” Atlas questioned as I placed my apron carefully back around my waist.
I grabbed the keys to unlock the front door, “Going to that show I told you about last week.”
“Oh yeah! I forgot that was today. Makes sense now why you are working a morning shift.” He ran his fingers through his messy brown hair while looking at his reflection on a spoon.
I rolled my eyes and settled into my usual spot behind the espresso machine. Atlas didn’t mind handling the register. More people to make conversation with.
A couple groups of customers came in over the next couple of hours. Most of them left with coffee to go, but some of the regular visitors made themselves comfortable at their usual tables. Atlas and I would sometimes switch positions with me at the register, but he would often chuckle at my fake chipper small talk, so I would make him switch back with me.
“Hey Y/N! Hey Atlas!”
I finished my last cappuccino for the small crowd of customers and peered over my shoulder.
“Morning Lindsay.” I smiled, grabbing a rag to clean the counters, “Can you take over the bar for me so Atlas can take his break?”
She nodded as I stood behind the register. Atlas lazily saluted to me before disappearing to the back room.
Lindsay started to clean and organize the drink area while I emptied the old pot of dark roast, so I could brew a fresh batch. It was nice to breathe for a second after the morning rush of customers subsided.
“I’m going to go get some more beans from the back. Did you need anything?” Lindsay skipped over to the door while her ponytail twirled behind her.
My finger tapped BREW, “No, I don’t think so. Thank you though Lin.”
I turned back to the register to check the time, 10 am. Only two hours left and I can leave for the week. I decided to use my time off this week after the concert because I never seem to have a reason to take vacations throughout the year otherwise. At least this week I might be able to take a trip somewhere after I recover from the show.
The cafe seemed to quiet down until the sound of the door closed. I looked out at the now pouring down rain I didn’t realize started during my shift. A man shook off his dark umbrella before walking up to the counter. He had his head down, putting the umbrella away in his bag. He was a bit taller than me and dressed in a long black coat. It was open just enough to see his forest green distressed sweater over top of a white shirt.
“Good morning.” The man mumbled in an unfamiliar voice.
It almost sounded like he spoke in an accent, but you couldn’t put your finger on it since it was so low and mumbled.
“Good morning. What can I get for you?” I fidgeted my fingers, tracing over the tattoos on my arm.
“Uh, a dark roast please.”
He was definitely British.
I looked up from my hand tracing over the ink on my skin, “I actually just started brewing a fresh pot of dark roast. If you grab a seat at a table, I can bring it to you when it’s finished if you’d like?”
My eyes finally met his. Oh god. I know this man.
His brown eyes stared back at me. The sides of his mouth curled up to form a slight smile.
“Yeah, I’ll be here for a bit. I have some work to do, so it probably won’t be my last cup either.” His hand raised to his curly brown hair to push it out of his face.
I finally broke eye contact to turn towards the pot of brewing coffee, “It’ll probably be about 5 minutes. Would you like anything to eat? It’s on the house.”
The dark-haired man cocked his head to the side raising his eyebrows, “Well I would love a scone.”
“I’ll bring it to you.”
He pulled out his phone and tapped it to the reader to pay for the coffee, “Thanks.”
I definitely knew who this man was. I didn’t think I’d be seeing him before tonight.
I grabbed the scone from the bakery case and placed it onto a plate using some tongs while the man found a seat at the table closest to the front window. I watched him as he took off his jacket and draped it over the back of his chair. He just started to settle down into his spot when I placed the plate on his table.
He cheekily smiled up at me with a wink, “Thank you, love.”
I flirtily winked back at him before heading to check on the brew. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked behind the counter.
Atlas emerged from the back and placed his apron back on. I checked the clock and replaced the now empty apron hook with my own apron.
“Let me make myself a drink quickly and deliver this man his dark roast before I go on my break.”
Atlas nodded and began to take a couple of lingering orders at the till.
As I finished pouring myself a hot tea, the dark roast was finally finished. I smiled back at the man at the corner table and realized his eyes never left me. A cup in each hand, I made my way back to the familiar face.
“Here’s your dark roast.” I placed the cup gently on the table as I glanced down at his tattoos, “Did you need any cream or sugar?”
He caught me glancing and rolled up his sleeves to show off the art, “No thank you, love. I prefer it as is.”
“Nice meeting you, Matty. Enjoy your coffee.”
The man took a break from sipping his drink to look back in my direction. His eyes met mine once more as I blushed through a smile.
I turned and made my way over to my usual couch in the opposite corner in front of the cafe. I usually took my breaks out on the floor since the back office didn’t get service at all. I could use the hour to catch up on emails. At least I would try to start catching up on emails until I undoubtingly get distracted from my crush sitting opposite me. Placing my tea on the coffee table to save my spot, I rushed to the back to grab my phone and headphones.
“Do you know that guy or something?” Lindsay followed me into the back.
A giggle escaped my mouth, “Not exactly. Just indirectly, I guess.”
She side-eyed me with a cheeky look before grabbing a refill of vanilla sweetener and heading back through the door.
I could feel the heat rising to my face. Shoving my headphones in my ears, I decided to check the mirror in the office before returning to my tea. Man, I looked terrible. When I had dreamed of meeting Matty before, I didn’t look like I had been run over by a van. Managing to straighten my hair out as much as possible, I took a deep breath and made my way back out to the cafe. Pulling out my phone, I navigated to my music.
“On break” I mumbled over to the others while still staring down at my phone.
My feet carried me over to the familiar maroon couch until an unfamiliar sight was sat in my spot. Matty.
“Sorry,” He smirked, “were you going to sit here?”
Speechless, I picked up my tea, “It’s okay. I can sit somewhere e-”
“I’m joking!” He scooted over to the other end of the couch away from the window, “Come sit with me. I could use the company.”
“Didn’t you have work you wanted to get done?”
“It can wait.” He took another sip of his coffee.
Without much hesitation, I shuffled my way into my seat realizing it was a lot closer to him than it had seemed. I blushed and picked up my tea, eager to take a sip.
“So you obviously know who I am. Will you tell me about you?” He nudged my shoulder with his own.
I tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear, “My name is Y/N.”
“Lovely name.”
I smiled, “And after work today, I’ll be getting ready to go to your show.”
“Oh, are you not one of those people who wait outside for hours and hours?” He takes a long sip of his drink, still not breaking eye contact.
I’m the one to break it first as I look down at my hands and chuckle, “unfortunately I could only get stadium seating. GA was impossible to snag.”
“Oh yeah?”
“And expensive as fuck.” I rolled my eyes at him.
“Okay, well that isn’t exactly our fault.”
I gave him an accusing look and shrugged.
“Hey! I promise it isn’t our fault!” He laughed while leaning into my side, “Anyway, you shouldn’t accuse someone of lying when they could get you a side-stage view of your favorite band.”
His body leaning into mine felt like fire flowing through me. He was just a normal person like everyone else. I usually didn’t feel nervous when meeting famous people before. I used to meet loads of my favorite artists back when I went to shows more frequently. Maybe because I was just caught off guard in “the wild”?
“You’re telling me that you could get me side-stage tickets to Phoebe Bridgers?”
He matched my smirk, “Hah Hah. Very funny. I meant my band.”
“Bold of you to assume the 1975 is my favorite band.” I sipped my tea.
“Your tattoo gave it away.” He lightly grabbed my arm in one hand and pointed with the other.
I had a lot of tattoos on my arm, but in between some of the larger pieces I had a little box with the words “modernity has failed us” in scribbled writing.
I immediately blushed. Not just from him noticing my 1975 tattoo, but mostly from the grasp he had on my arm. He rubbed his thumb over the scribbled words decorating my skin.
“You have a lot of other cool ones too, but I think this is my favorite.” He winked.
“So uh,” I tried not to stumble over my words, “what else do you want to know about me?”
“A lot actually. I have time.”
“Well, I only have 40 minutes left on my break.” I gestured with my free hand to the clock.
He let go of my arm to rummage through his bag. I really wished he hadn’t let go. It felt cold and lonely without his warm thumb brushing over my skin.
“That settles it then,” he handed me his phone, “can I have your number?”
My heart dropped. Is he serious right now? Even if I give him my number, it’s not like he is actually going to reach out to me.
I take his phone and type my number into the field. I saw that he had already added my name at the top. Y/N (cute barista).