Chapter Text
Martha's was a cozy little coffee shop that always smelled of honey, lilacs and something that couldn't be described as anything less than home.
And that's what it was to Jeremy, who had spent his childhood sat on a stool at the tiny bar, coloring in the patterns of the menus, or watching his mother creating the most beautiful cakes and pastries that he had ever seen.
When his older sister Maya had moved to the city and gave her place behind the counter to Jeremy, she had jokingly accused their mother of using Jeremy for marketing reasons, after she had watched him charming yet another elderly lady into buying the take-out cake special to bring home to her husband. But his success in selling cupcakes wasn't why he had agreed to help his mother out when she asked him to.
The place was filled with good memories and everyone who came in could sense the atmosphere of peace that seemed to fill the soft light falling in through lacy curtains at any time of day. In fact, multiple patrons had stated that they came in for exactly this, for a break from their everyday stress, to just grab a coffee and absorb whatever magic the smell of Martha's cakes emitted and it was something Jeremy's mother was very proud of.
It was also something Jeremy was very proud of, and the reason for him to put his all in making the customers' time there worthwhile.
He never thought that one day, doing that would be a challenge.
„Jeremy, you need to take on the front today.“
Millie threw her jacket onto a chair where several others were already piled to a colorful mess and looked up at her older brother expectantly.
„But I'm-“ . Jeremy started but got interrupted.
„Mom told you to help out in the kitchen, I know. But I'll have you know, I had a very hard day and I cannot be trusted with selling things to people today. Or people in general. I'll just go punch the cookie dough and no one will get hurt.“
„Besides the cookie dough.“ A voice chirped in behind them.
„The cookie dough is not a living thing Louis. You're also in front today right?“ Millie didn't give their friend and co-worker time to answer. „See, Jer? We wouldn't have sold anything anyway, with that social catastrophe and me behind the counter. You just spread your beautiful aura and run damage control on whatever Louis will be doing.“
She blew the two boys a kiss and disappeared into the kitchen, undoubtedly to pick a one-sided fight with one of the batches of dough that Martha left in their care that morning.
Jeremy shot Louis an apologetic smile for Millie's remarks while walking up behind the counter where a small group of middle-aged women were waiting to order.
Secretly (or not so secretly), Jeremy was glad that Millie had wanted to swap. He preferred talking to the customers to being locked up in the tiny kitchen any day, and his sister was right: Louis was a disaster. He was a good guy but he couldn't do small talk if his life depended on it and always ended up in awkward if not worrisome situations. Jeremy had stopped counting how much of those he had to fix up until now, with a smile and a free box of cookies, but he couldn't say he regretted helping his friend to the job. It surely never had been boring for long since Louis worked with them.
They had a silent agreement that Louis would take on the older part of the customers, grannies who were too goodhearted to take any of his comments wrong and elderly men who just wanted a coffee and to read their papers in silence. Usually that worked out pretty well and they had the customers divided up pretty evenly between the two of them.
On that specific day though, it was raining buckets outside and not many people were going out, not speaking of going out and visiting the tiny coffee shop.
After about an hour of Jeremy serving the few younger patrons coming in, Louis perked up: „Dude, I think we should quit the thing for today. Let's just say we make half/half. You served that guy and the next person coming in is mine.“
Jeremy understood that Louis meant well and wanted to help out as much as he could. But he also knew about the several unpleasant encounters that were to happen with that split-up.
Still, he nodded. He wasn't one to turn down the opportunity to break old habits.
So that's what they did and the day went on rather uneventful. Until...it didn't.
Jeremy was just done serving one of the older men Louis usually took on, jabbing down the third cup of black coffee on the guy's receipt, when the soft sound of a doorbell announced the arrival of a new customer.
The man had the hood of his black sweater pulled down so far that Jeremy couldn't make out his eyes, but he shook it off as soon as the door closed behind him and shut out the thick raindrops drumming against it.
He raked a hand through messy dark curls as he seemed to measure up the room. When his grey-blue stare fell on Jeremy, Jeremy couldn't shake the feeling of watching a tense animal- it was like the guy expected someone to lash out at him at any second.
This was something Jeremy wasn't used to. The coffee shop had always resembled to something like a safe haven in his mind, a place where nothing bad ever happened, where people usually had a smile on their face and it smelled of lilacs and honey, and when he started working there he had always thrived to keep this image up for every person entering.
The near-haunted look in the man's eyes as he slowly made his way up to the counter took Jeremy a little off-guard, so that he nearly failed to react when he realized Louis was getting ready to take up the new customer's order, which- Jeremy just knew it was a terrible idea.
„Don't worry buddy, I'll take care of the counter for a bit. You go check in with Millie in the back, she should leave some of mom's batches alive.“ , he smiled at his confused friend until Louis shrugged and obliged, disappearing into the kitchen just as Jeremy turned around to greet the new arrival and was met with an icy stare.
„What can I get you?“, he asked, with the same bright smile he gave every customer... But something felt different with this one.
Jeremy was good with people. He knew what to say around them, what to do to not make them uncomfortable. But something about the tense posture of the guy's shoulders and the way his fingers were thoughtlessly tracing patterns onto the sleeve of his hoodie in contrast to that made that part of Jeremy's brain short circuit.
So when the guy ordered a chai latte in a quiet and raspy voice, Jeremy just replied with the very first thing that came to his mind:
„Oh, you're french?“
The man seemed to be taken off guard by the question, looking at Jeremy in surprise and nodding once.
Jeremy found himself in a nothing short from Louis-like situation, when he contemplated if it would be less awkward to just say nothing at all now that he initiated (and failed at) conversation, or to keep trying. He decided for the latter as he prepared the drink.
„I love the language, you know? I suck at it though, never got the hang of all those past tenses in school. My sister is really good at it ! She's reading books in french. Gotta say I'm a little jealous.“
With a sharpie in hand he stopped his babbling to look at the man again. „What's your name?“
He felt guilty when he saw that the kind of shocked expression still hadn't fallen from the other's face. Jeremy felt like he had betrayed his own codex in making a customer uncomfortable and started mentally scolding himself, so that he nearly didn't catch the quiet answer.
„Jean. What's yours?“
Now that Jeremy hadn't expected. He had prepared himself for a one worded answer, or complete silence, but definitely not, well- the beginning of an actual conversation.
It took him a second to regain control of his mouth, before he answered.
„I-I'm Jeremy!“, he- stuttered. He could slap himself. Covering up his inner cringe he smiled and added: „Are you new here? I don't think I've seen you around until now.I mean, I don't know everyone who lives here of course but I guess I've seen a lo-“
„Yeah.“ Jean interrupted his rambling. „I...I moved here from West Virginia.“
Jeremy hadn't quite given up on his ability to have a normal conversation yet.
„Oh, so they speak french in West Virginia?“, he-...no, it wasn't worth calling it a joke. That had been a disaster. Jeremy kept up his smile, even though he wasn't sure if it didn't resemble a quiet plea for help at that point.
To his surprise Jean didn't turn around and left the shop at once (which Jeremy totally would’ve accepted as a suitable reaction), but instead shook his head, with a quirk of his mouth, that maybe, in some way, resembled a smile.
„They don't. I lived in Marseille until I was 11.“
His first thought was that, maybe, beneath all that black clothing and the bandaid on his left cheek, Jean was an angel, sent to redeem Jeremy's awkwardness. His second thought was the sudden realization that his mouth couldn't be trusted to not say weird thoughts like that out loud and a reminder to himself to get his shit together.
„I would love to visit Marseille one day! What made you come to the US though?“
„My...parents made that decision actually.“
Jeremy could tell that it was a complicated subject,so he tried for the safest way around it and smiled innocently.
„Of course. An 11 year old wouldn't move across the ocean on his own, silly me.“
In no state of mental short circuit could Jeremy mistake the tension in Jeans lips that followed as a smile, but after a short „Yeah.“ Jean surprised him again, by giving this nightmare of a conversation another chance.
„So you're from California?“
Jeremy gladly took him up on the offer and nodded eagerly.
„We live just a few blocks down the road actually.“
„We?“
„Me and my family.“ , he pointed behind him. „My sister Millie for example, she's in the back. And uh, my mom“, now he motioned to the door displaying the logo that Jeremy’s younger brother Joel had designed some time ago. „My mom is Martha.“
„Oh, so a family business?“ Jean asked. When Jeremy nodded again, he resumed while his eyes wandered to something behind Jeremy. „Is he related to you too?“
Turning around ,Jeremy saw Louis perched up in the kitchen door, looking kind of awestruck.
„You alright Lou? Millie still alive?“ Jeremy quirked an eyebrow at the weird look on his friend’s face, but Louis didn't even react to his questions. Instead he made his way towards the two of them and stopped next to Jeremy, looking directly at Jean now.
„You're Jean Moreau.“
If it wasn't for Jean tensing up again Jeremy probably wouldn't even have noticed that the other man had relaxed during their conversation. Realizing it now though it was all he could do to not shove Louis' face into the cupcake display he was standing in front of.
He didn't know why, but obviously the mention of his full name, however Louis had known that, had made Jean extremely uncomfortable again.
That was the question, though. How exactly could Louis „I've never left California“ Rouge know this random customer’s full name?
Jeremy was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear Louis' blabbering at first, now he zoned in again.
„...just this morning! I bet the press is dying to get a statement from you. They're probably camping in front of Evermore right now, trying to get one from Riko or your coach. Ex-...ex-coach? And you're here! I mean you were in radio silence for months now, and, like, people already started to believe that Laila's statement today was just a bluff, but...Obviously it wasn't! Man I'm excited! It's exciting right? Aren't you excited?"
Those names stirred some sort of recognition in Jeremy. Riko, Evermore, Laila.
Louis had never managed to get him into Exy, but that didn't mean that he had ever shut up about it. Jeremy had always thought it was funny how his friend ,who sometimes couldn't even walk a straight line or remember his own phone number ,could keep up with stats and names in such a complicated sport. Usually he zoned out after the first few minutes of Louis' ranting about recent games and news, but some facts still creeped their way into Jeremy's memory sometimes.
He knew for example that Louis' favorite team was that of a local University, The USC Trojans, and that he worshipped their captain ,Laila Dermott. He also knew that Louis lost some money betting on them last year, when they lost against the apparently best team in their league, the Edgar Allen Ravens, and that that was the reason why his friend despised the West Virginian team.
West Virginia...
Slowly the pieces fell into picture. Jeremy recalled fragments of a rant from not even two hours ago.
Louis hadn't even tried to hide his gloating when talking about one of the Ravens' players causing some drama that would probably cost the team a good part of their reputation and stance. The guy had apparently fled Edgar Allen's holy halls...- The guy was apparently standing in front of them right at this moment.
Louis gestured towards Jean's face, where the band-aid covered a good part of his cheekbone.
„Why'd you cover it up?“
Jean, who hadn't said a word ever since Louis joined the conversation blinked a few times and then said in a cold voice: „So I don't get recognized as easily.“
„Oh!...Oh.“ Louis face fell at once. Jeremy wasn't entirely sure what had happened but he was glad that Louis had realized that he had crossed a line minutes ago. Not only because it meant that the one-sided conversation stopped, but also because Jeremy would've had to seriously worry about his friend's well-being, if he wouldn't have recognized the sharp edges Jeans words painted on his face as a warning to stop.
The beep of the coffee machine interrupted the awkward silence that followed, indicating that Jean's beverage was done. Louis took that as his cue to disappear back into the kitchen, claiming that he heard Millie calling him. Jeremy was certain that she hadn't but he definitely wouldn't keep Louis from leaving. Instead he turned to finish up Jean's order.
He felt the need to try and save the situation, even though the rational part of his brain screamed at him that it was beyond saving.
He still didn't know what exactly it was but something about the shadow in Jean's eyes made him want to help. He also didn't know how he wanted to help, or with what for that matter, he only knew that the darting looks the other man sent through the shop weren't the ones he had sent Jeremy when he had talked about Millie's books, and that he very much preferred the latter.
„I don't really know what's up, but I'm really sorry for him.“ , he said. „You may have realized that but he doesn't have any kind of filter between his brain and his mouth.“
„I realized, yeah.“ Jean replied, but it was lacking the sharp tone he used to talk to Louis.
Encouraged by that, Jeremy returned to his place on the register and smiled at Jean carefully.
„Are you okay though?“
The surprise in Jean's eyes at Jeremy's concern nearly broke his heart. As he handed the cup over he heard a mumbled: „I- I'm fine.“
It was an obvious lie, so obvious that Jeremy knew it wouldn't do anything to push the subject. But the small part of him that was growing determined to help didn't let him drop it completely.
He waited for the register to print the receipt, before he ripped it off and quickly jabbed down his number on it. Handing it to Jean he explained: „Well, if you ever should be not fine anymore...I was told I'm a pretty good listener.“ He smiled again, a smile a few hues to warm to be his usual customer-smile and added: „Have a nice day, Jean.“
He left the counter (and Jean, looking after him as if he hadn't fully processed what had happened yet) and went to the kitchen. Before he entered the small room he hadn't fully decided if he was here to punch Louis in the face or simply to flee the awkwardness, but when he arrived he settled for neither. Instead he sent Louis out to take on the front in his stead and joined Millie, who was still kneading dough.
Doing that, he realized that his fingers were shaking. Millie noticed too.
„You good?“ she asked, quirking an eyebrow.
„I feel like a middle-schooler.“ Jeremy sighed.
„Hey, watch it. I'm a middle-schooler. What happened?“
“I think I just lived through the opening sequence of one of those horrible movies you always want to watch.”
As a part of this family, Jeremy knew how sensitive the Knox’s were about their personal movie choices, so he had to duck an empty carton that was thrown his way.
While avoiding another one ,his eyes fell on his phone lying on the counter.
He couldn’t help but wonder if, and when Jean would take him up on his offer. A voice in the back of his head mocked those thoughts, but it was dulled by the glint of something warm in Jeans eyes, that Jeremy remembered in detail from their conversation.
That image would probably be burned into his memory for eternity, and he wouldn’t mind it.