Chapter Text
“Look, I need to get home- there has to be something you can do-” Mike was getting increasingly annoyed at the person at the desk, who also seemed to be equally annoyed with him.
“Okay, sir- the soonest flight to California I can put you on is a flight to Los Angeles,” She explained.
That flight might have to do, although Los Angeles was nowhere near Oakland, over a five hour drive.
“But I should inform you there is a change fee of $175, and only middle seats are available.”
Of course there were fees. There are fees for everything.
“Alright- fine. Just put me on the flight. I can't deal with this” Mike ended up deciding to go on that flight, after everyone was yelling at him anyway because he was holding up the line at the customer service desk or whatever it was called. Who knows what he would do after getting to Los Angeles. It’s not like he could just drive over five hours to get back to his home, although… that might be the only option. Whatever, he’ll have to cross that bridge when he gets to it. He should have known this was what would happen when he made the stupid decision to sleep in for five more minutes, which turned into 45 more minutes, and by the time he woke up, he had about 30 minutes before his flight left, and he almost decided not to go to the airport, but figured there was a chance he could make it (there wasn’t).
“I’m such a dumbass,” he angrily murmured to himself, which earned him some strange looks. He figured since his flight didn’t start boarding for another hour and a half, he should go get some coffee. He thought he deserved it after going through all that. Plus, he was really tired. There were like thousands of Starbucks shops at every airport, so he should be able to locate one soon enough. It took him longer than expected.
Of course, at the closest one, there was a line. The line even went out of the store. Mike let out a very loud frustrated groan, earning him more concerned looks than his previous rant about being a dumbass, this time he was wondering if people thought that he was going crazy.
“Of course there’s a fucking line!” He dramatically stated.
Figuring he had nothing better to do, he reluctantly entered the line along with everyone else. They didnt deserve thise drinks as much as he did. He had been having a terrible morning, therefore, deserved to be at the front of the line.
“Excuse me, sorry.”
He glanced in the other direction to see a stranger looking at him, clearly needing to pass. He rolled his eyes and reluctantly stepped forward to let the stranger pass, bumping into another person in front of him.
“Excuse you!” the person in front of him rudely exclaimed.
“Ugh, sorry…” He very quietly responded, not sure if the person heard him at all, “Fuck this shit…” He said to himself. He was convinced the universe wanted to make him miserable, and thought it was funny. The person he had previously bumped into side-eyed him in response to him being rude. It’s true, he knew he was being rude to everyone, but did he give a fuck? Great question. No. Nobody at this airport knew his struggle. His place in line had moved significantly, and he was finally actually inside the Starbucks. It was extremely crowded, as expected. Mike scanned the room, and to his surprise, he seemed to find someone who was having an even worse day than him. A man no older than, probably also in his early twenties, with very noticeable bright blue hair seemed to be having a very heated argument on the phone.
“No! I- I can't stay at a cheap hotel in LA, I need you to come and get me…” The next words he said were drowned out by the crowd, as he moved to go grab his ready coffee from the counter after a barista had shouted, “order for Billie?”
Mike felt empathy for the stranger, seemingly named Billie. They both had similar struggles.
“Hello, uh- what can I get you today?”
He didn’t realize it had become his turn to order, because he had been staring at the guy named Billie with blue hair. He then realized that he didn’t yet know what to order. A vanilla latte might be good. It was something sweet.
“Oh, sorry. Can I get uhh… a tall vanilla latte with- ah- fuck!” He exclaimed as he felt someone falling onto him, along with a searing pain on the skin on his chest, probably from hot coffee.
“Oh shit- I am so so sorry, I didn't mean to-”
Mike looked up to see, out of all people, blue hair guy, apologizing for crashing into him and burning him with his near boiling coffee, but Mike had just about had it with everything going wrong today.
“God dammit! You fucking burned me you- ugh!”
He then looked at the stranger's face, who was clearly surprised at his outburst.
“I- I’m really sorry I didn’t- do you want me to pay for you? Or-”
“Agh- no. Fuck this. Just forget about it- and watch where you’re going!”
Mike then stormed off, not wanting to stay in the shop after that encounter, although he was sad, because he really wanted that vanilla latte. He did feel just a tiny bit bad. The blue haired stranger had just made a little mistake and had tripped, and on top of that it seemed like he had also been having a bad day, and then Mike shouted at him. He made the decision that if he ever saw him again, he would apologize for being an asshole. Oh, what to do now? Mike could go and sit at the gate and scroll on social media for the next hour, or he could go to find another Starbucks to finally get his well deserved latte. Eh. it wasn’t worth it. He liked the first option better.