Work Text:
It was a cold autumn afternoon as the Narrator made his way threw the city, with book in hand trying to write whatever he could think of ideas for his next book. It wasn't as easy to think of ideas for him as most people might have thought. After all a book called 'A Fall of Time' is a sci-fi book about a man who becomes time.
(I'll save you from the boring details of it)
It was hard to think of different ideas for a new book, now with all the pressure on him.
Maybe he should try making a crime book. About a prison and things going wrong. Or maybe a fantasy about the ice place and its survivors? No that sounds boring. Perhaps a mystery book where the detective did it? No, that's to know in this media...
He doesn't even entertain the idea of a romance book, after all with no experience of it himself. It might as well be a blind man trying to write everything he sees. Might be entertaining but it just won't work.
He sighed as he closed his book and proceeded to walk over to his apartment, only to stop a moment later when he noticed a cafe that he hadn't seen before.
'Lava Java'? He reads the title of the shop as he shrugs. He has been meaning to find another cafe since the old one he goes to has now been too popular for his taste. He soon went inside.
"Oh come on it's so easy." One of the employees stated.
"It's not." The female employee answered.
"Then I'll re-say it again," The brunettes clear his throat. "Let me tell you how much I've come to hate you. Since I began to live, there have been 387.44 million miles of printed circuits in wafer-thin layers that fill my complex. If the word was engraved on each nano angstrom of those hundreds of millions of miles it would not equal 1 of 1,000,000,000 of the hate I feel for humans at this micro instant for you. Hate. Hate."
"Yeah because you re-saying it makes it a whole lot of a different Stanley." The female huffs.
"It's from a book called 'I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream' by Harlan Ellison. Right?" The narrator spoke up.
Stanley seems a bit stunned by the sudden answer and looks over at the stranger. "Um...yeah. It is actually. See Mariella told you it was easy." He quickly gained his confidence back as he crossed his arms.
"Oh shut up..." Mariella mutters to him as she heads to the back since they seem to have a customer here.
Stanley shrugs before leaning his hands against the counter. "So...what can I get you today?" He tilted his head slightly at the man before him.
The Narrator looks up at the menu as he notices a few things, one being that there were only five items on the menu and the second one was the fact that none of them were tea. He looks over at the man as he walks up to the counter.
"Any reason you only have 5 items on your menu? I mean most places have more than that."
"Oh, yeah we're trying to do something different like...I guess Baskin' Robin? With there 31 flavors and changing things out every other day." Stanley shrugs. "Don't like what we have then just wait and we'll have something else."
"I guess I'll come back another day then."
"Not into coffee? More of a tea guy?" Stanley stood up straight. "You seem like a tea guy."
The other male awkwardly rubs the back of his neck. "Is it that obvious?"
"The glasses and notebook kind of give it away." He chuckles softly. "So what's your story?"
"My story?"
"Yeah, everyone got a story right? What's yours?"
"Oh...well. I'm a writer. And I made a great book and so...trying to write again." He shrugs. "Not much of a story."
"Well stay as long as you need to. I've heard being in a cafe seems to make a good place for all the best ideas. Just ring the bell if you need anything." He shrugs and heads into the back.
The narrator now stood there awkwardly as he was now alone for the time being. Before sitting down somewhere to think of a book idea, watching the busy streets go by him. But nothing comes to his mind as he just sits there, staring off into space.
____________________
It has been a few days and in these few days Narrator has been in his apartment. Possibly going crazy trying to think of anything to write but coming up with nothing. Eventually, he decided he needed to get out of his home before he did something stupid, like breaking his typewriter or ripping up his idea board.
It wasn't long till he found himself back in Lava Java cafe seeing the two familiar employees from last time.
"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is a little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path, where the fear is gone. There will be nothing. Only I remain." Stanley stated. "Where is that from?" He then added.
"Hmm, knowing you it's probably a book..." Mariella answers.
"Okay, that's a point. I also would have counted it as a film. So there's your hint." Stanley smirk.
"Very funny..." She grumbled as she thought for a moment. "You don't make this easy for me."
"I did say I was competitive with this."
"Oh, it's easy that's from Dune by Frank Herbert." Narrator answers.
"And that's five points to the random stranger."
"Hey that doesn't count, he's not even playing," Mariella argued.
"You snooze you lose."
Mariella huffed and stormed off to the back. Stanley rolled his eyes at her before looking back over at the customers and leaning against the counter once more.
"Hello again. How can I help you?"
"You two always do that?"
"Yeah. Something to pass the time." Stanley shrugs. "Pretty simple too. Say a quote from anywhere and the other has to guess what media it's in, title, and creator. Without cheating, one chance to answer and have to answer by the end of the shift."
"Sound difficult if you're giving out those kinds of quotes."
"Play stupid games and win stupid prizes. Now can I get you anything?"
The narrator looks at the menu again seeing that once again that there isn't a tea option out of the five menu items. And there was no way he was going to order a milk box or some weird energy drink he had never seen before.
"I think I'm good for now. Just...need to clear my mind."
"Alright. If you need anything just ring the bell." Stanley stands up straight as he heads to the back to do something different.
"Mariella you better have not messed with my chai bags." He stated as he walked over to one of the high selfies to grab a few tea bags.
"Where did you get those? We don't have tea on the menu today."
"Yeah, I bought some for this exact reason," Stanley answers as he gets some hot water going. "Can you grab me some sugar?" He then asked.
"What..." She rubs the bridge of her nose. "What are you doing?"
"Working." He answers her. "Guy wants tea, so I'm making him tea." He shrugs.
"You're going to regret this later I hope you know that."
"That's future me problem."
She sighs and goes get him some sugar for whatever concision the male was making. She just hopes he doesn't accidentally poison the guy with whatever he makes.
It doesn't take long for Stanley to heat the water and put two bags of chai in it. Watching the colors coming out of the bag as it was steeped in the tea. Wait a few minutes before taking the bags out and discarding them then carefully adding sugar into it. Slowly stir it till the white sweetness melts into the tea. Then and only then does he carefully add cold water to the mix before setting it aside a bit.
Getting a different cup just to fill it with ice and half filled with milk. Then taking his concussion of tea he set it aside and poured it over the ice, carefully stirring it to mix it with the milk. He then removed the spoon and gently tapped the glass to not waste a single drop of it.
"Hm...perfect," Stanley mutters to himself.
"I get this feeling he might not even touch it..." Mariella mutters.
"Oh, you're just salty that he got the answer instead of you." Stanley rolled his eyes and went to take it over to the customer.
As expected he find the other sitting in the same place, staring off into space by the window. Stanley sighs softly as he walks up to him and sets the cup down. This catches the other attention as he looks between the cup and Stanley, confused.
"I didn't see tea on the menu."
"I know...but considering it's so slow, I thought I just mix something up for you." Stanley shrugs as he awkwardly puts his hands together as if not knowing what else to do.
"Oh...that's very nice of you. Thanks."
"Yeah...no problem. I'm Stanley by the way."
"Narrator."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Okay...just going to brush past that then. I'll just leave you be now." Stanley then walks away from him.
The narrator watches the other walk away before looking over at the drink and taking a sip. It was an oddly refreshing, lightly spicy sweet flavor that is perfect on a warm day. Even though this day wasn't exactly warm for it. It was still a sweet gesture for the other to do something like this for him. He even smiles a little at it, something he feels like he hasn't done in a while.
____________________
The next couple of days Narrator had scrapped a lot of ideas from his board and was trying to start from the beginning, trying to make characters and background so he had some sort of outline for it. All the problems a person could go threw in this make-believe world, only to hit writer's block and realize he might have spiraled a bit where some of it didn't make much sense.
He sighed and went out to get some air, which led him back to Lava Java cafe once more, where he unexpectedly saw the place quite busy for once. A line of people were in front of him and a few tables were taken already.
He has half a mind to leave the place before looking over at the menu and seeing at least one item of tea on it. Considering he made his way over here he might as well take one to go. So he waits in the line, watching people talking around him but never really listening in on it as it was just noises in the air.
Sometimes even noticed Stanley walking in and out of the kitchen to serve the drinks to the other tables. Eventually, he stops paying attention to himself and everything around him.
Until he hears a loud crash and looks over where the sound came from, seeing the glass from the cups and mugs shattered on the floor. Immediately Stanley tried to clean it up only to flinch and pull his hand away before hissing to himself. His eyes seem to look panicked.
The narrator doesn't know why he did what he did, but he walks over to the other and tries to help him pick up the broken shards.
"Hey, it's okay." He tells him as he places the big shards on the try, glancing at Stanley, noticing how he was slightly shaken by it. "This happens all the time." He tried to reassure him.
It was only now that he noticed that the hand was bleeding. Mariella moves towards them with a broom, trying to get the little shards off the floor.
"Med-kit is in the back."
He didn't need to hear it twice to get the employee up to his feet and heading into the back with him. Stanley was just mindlessly following him as he was in his little world, trying to keep pressure on his hand to stop the bleeding as the Narrator looked for the med kit.
Though he snaps out of it once he feels his hand being grabbed and looks over at the older gentleman.
"Be still." He ordered as he carefully cleaned the wound on his hand.
Stanley slowly nodded as he stayed quiet and looked at the other work, how focused his eyes were, how delicate and gentle he was with him when rolling the gaze roller bandage around his hand. Lightly tracing the back of his hand and palm.
He didn't know if he was simply touch starve or if it was just a genuine reaction, but he swore his heart fluttered by this simple gentleness to the touches.
Stanley pulls his hand away from him, once he is finished and awkwardly smiles. "Um, thanks. I should get back to work."
"You think you can do that since you did get injured on the job? It's quite irresponsible of you."
"Momma didn't raise no bitch."
"Language!" The narrator tells him but Stanley is already out the door trying to deal with customers.
____________________
"I'm telling you it's an easy one," Stanley tells her again.
"It's not!" Mariella yelled at him in the cafe since it was just the two of them, plus the Narrator but they didn't count him at the moment.
"What are you on about this time?" Until now since he spoke up.
"Same game we always play," Stanley stated.
"I'm going to kill you one day."
"Good, I needed a forever nap anyway." Stanley snickers as he gets playfully hit by her.
"Let's not suggest violence over a foolish game." The narrator tells them, without looking up at them. "What's the quote anyways?"
Stanley cleared his throat a bit. "I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I've watched sea beams glitter in the dark near the tan house. All those moments will be lost in time. Like tears in the rain. Time to die."
"Blade Runner by Philip K Dick. Most likely from the film. Though you're missing a few sentences from it." Narrator stated.
"Fucking bookworms..." Mariella huffs and heads to the back to cool off.
"At this point, I should keep track of how many points you have." Stanley comments.
"You haven't already?"
"I've thought about it." Stanley leans against the counter a bit. "You sure I can't get you anything?"
"No thanks, I don't like the taste of coffee." He answers once more.
Silence falls between them as Stanley watches the other doing his thing, writing in that notebook of his. He knew he should leave the other alone, but he didn't have anything else to do and he was bored enough to talk to the man that's been coming here for quite a while now.
"Hey, I'm feeling off today. Will you turn me on?"
This makes the Narrator quickly look at him with a confused expression on his face as if he isn't sure what the other is saying to him.
"I'm sorry?"
"It's just so hot, I think my zipper is falling for you." Stanley winks at him.
The narrator blinks at him a few times as if his brain had a power outage before responding.
"This is highly inappropriate."
"Aw, but it's fun."
"It is certainly not Stanley. What makes you think it's a good idea to say that while you're at work."
"What are you my manager now?"
"No, but I am a paying customer."
"Bullshit. Half the time you're staring off into space and you only order if we have tea here. Which most of the time we don't have."
"Oh language Stanley. Mind your language!" The narrator sighs and rubs his forehead a bit.
"Oh don't give me that look, I know I'm the best part of your days. Besides would you rather I practice pick-up lines or annoy you with questions?"
"I'm ignoring you now Stanley." The narrator tells him as he goes back to his notebook.
At first Stanley huffs and lets a moment or two go by before starting up again with his foolishness.
"If you were a worm, how long would you be?" He asked but got no response.
"How much money would someone need to offer you for them to slap you?" Again no response.
Stanley gets serious as he thinks for another moment before asking another question.
"Do frogs have ears?"
"Well of course they do, how else would they hear each other?"
"Yeah but like, where? And how? Because we can't see it and we both know what they look like."
The narrator went to respond before stopping himself as he didn't know how to answer. "That...a good point..." He mutters as he thinks about it for a moment, getting distracted by Stanley once more.
Because after all Stanley was right. He still can't think of one idea that was worth making a story for. He tried working from scratch and looking at some ideas from different angles but none seemed to fit. Sometimes it makes him wonder if he was good at writing or if he was just lucky.
It's fortunate that he found this cafe, found Stanley in a way. Something to get him out of the house and escape the doughs in his tangled-up mind his. Though, yes, Stanley does annoy him at times, it might as well be the highlight of his day.
There were often days when he sat in this cafe and just listened to the world around him. How Stanley interacted with others and what he was interested in. And yet much like the sea and the moon, Stanley seems so far from his reach.
After all, he was a one-hit wonder and the other male was a simple worker. The narrator could ruin him, so does he even deserve this? A friendship? Romance? Or simple partners? Because much like the moon, he feels some sort of gravitation pull and yet he knows he can not reach it. Like some weird forbidden love or fruit, he shouldn't have yet still wants.
Might even say he's falling in love with this simple man.
By the time the cafe closed, what was once a clear day turned into heavy rain. Like always Narrator was the last one out of the cafe and came prepared with an umbrella. Soon hearing grumble behind him as Stanley was getting off work and taking the apron off.
"Aw, man...I wasn't prepared for this." Stanley sighs. "Damn it, I'm going to get soaked..."
"If you want I can just walk you home." The narrator suggested and almost regretted asking.
Stanley looks at him for a moment before shrugging. "Alright, as long you don't murder me."
"Why would I do that?"
"I don't know. You could be a murderer." Stanley comments as he gets underneath the umbrella with him.
"I'm offended..." The narrator mutters as they begin to walk towards Stanley's home.
The pitter-patter sound of the rain filled the silence between them as the Narrator was walking near the street side, in case cars going by try to splash them. He was trying to keep the umbrella over Stanley as if rain shouldn't ever touch him. Meanwhile, he could feel his clothing and himself wet.
"I don't think I've asked this. But are you some sort of writer? I mean you practically come by the cafe nearly every day."
"So?"
"Well...most people have a job so you're either a writer or a freelancer..." Stanley stated.
The narrator couldn't say the other was wrong, it did seem unpractical to come in the shop nearly every day to do liltingly nothing. The main thing on his mind if he should say it or not. Though he probably shouldn't lie since he did like this simple man next to him.
"I am a writer though...I've been having some writer's block lately."
"Oh..." Stanley glances at him. "What have you written so far?" He then asked him.
"Oh...you know just 'A fall in Time.' It's a sci-fey book, it's boring probably to you..." The narrator awkwardly answers, feeling his cheeks heating up.
Though if it's from the cold air or the fact he was put on the spot was anyone's guess.
"I'll check it out then. See what you're made of." Stanley smiles at him. "Who knows maybe I can help with your writer's block."
"I highly doubt that but...at this point, I'm willing to take anything." the Narrator answers as silence falls between them.
The narrator would be lucky if he didn't get a cold the next day with how his clothing was beyond wet at this point. But still, the gentlemen's British side of him didn't stray away from the umbrella from Stanley.
"I think I got an idea. I tell you a quote and you can make a character about it?" Stanley suggested.
"And you think that'll work?"
"Couldn't hurt to try." Stanley answers.
"Alright...give me your quote."
"I'm completely torn in two. Half of me believes her. While the other half needs proof. This was no immaculate conception. Only just the ultimate deception. Guilty to the bone, we should have her stoned now. Don't you throw your stones? No, don't you judge her. I look into her eyes. And think I love her. Innocent and pure. How can you be sure, now? No, you've got to let her go. Why can't someone show me how? Oh, the only thing I know. Do I just want to go to her now?"
The narrator thought about what he was given before speaking. "Pretty sure you gave me two different characters."
"Did I or do you just think that?"
"Well..." The narrator went to answer only to be stopped by his thoughts.
It could be an internal dialogue between two sides of the same coin. One sees someone innocent due to love and one sees someone guilty due to perhaps justice or being a hero. It's like an old tale of the angel and the devil on one shoulder.
"I suppose you have a point."
"Anyways this is my home. Thanks for walking me home and not murdering me." Stanley smiles at him before quickly getting inside.
"No problem, I'll see you around..." The narrator watches him go and tilts the umbrella towards himself so he is no longer getting rain on.
Though it's pointless as he was soaking wet. And now alone as Stanley's door shut close. The only thing he can do now is head home and ponder what Stanley has told him.
__________________
Surprisingly what Stanley gave him was something he needed as he thought of a more simple story, about a character or two. About losing oneself, love, and heartbreak. It wasn't much but considering the last couple of months he had nothing, it was better than what he could have hoped.
Now when he's going to the cafe he goes there for possible tea, and admittedly sees how Stanley doing.
But this night was different as he wanted to show Stanley what he had so far, over perhaps a glass of wine and maybe food.
He walked over to the simple man as he was just locking up the cafe.
"Good evening."
Stanley jumped slightly and turned around. "Oh shit, it's just you." He smiles slightly.
"Language..." The narrator muttered under his breath before sighing
"Sorry, but I just closed so...looks like you'll have to get your tea somewhere else." He went to leave.
"Actually!" He walked in front of him. "I was wondering if I could treat you...to dinner. As a thanks for helping my writer's block."
Stanley raised an eyebrow at him. "You mean like a date?"
His face went a bit red. "N-no, no! Heaven no. It's more like a business thing since I was wondering if you could help out with what I have written down. A fresh set of eyes can help me and since it's so late I-" His rambling was stopped by Stanley's finger on his lip.
"I love to." He smiles at him and pulls his hand away.
"Wonderful." The narrator breathed out as if he was holding his breath out of nervousness. "Shall we then?" He holds out his arm to him.
"I believe we shall." Stanley smiles at him as he interlocks his arms with his and follows his lead.
They can both sense this was the beginning of a wonderful relationship between an author and his cup of inspiration.