Chapter Text
In a nice little coffee shop in a nice little town called Beacon Hills, a new barista was making sweet love to all the mugs he was just drying off. They were hand-made by the owner of the shop, each one having a different picture painted on them. A ridiculous amount of those pictures included pigs, pork, ham and bacon. People in this town loved bacon. That was the first thing Gerry found out when he moved here about 3 weeks ago.
Actually that might have been one of the reasons why he came here after graduating high school. That, and the dart that randomly landed on a giant map in one of the class rooms. It wasn't like he didn't like New York, really. He loved it. It was his town, he'd been here forever. But exactly that was the problem. He'd never gotten out of New York without his parents watching him and his broad back.
He'd had a part time job for a while now to have enough money by the time he graduated to get out for a while and stand on his own feet. He knew it would have been best to send out masses of college applications and study and be a good kid, but there was more to life than being a successful doctor or lawyer or whatever respectable positions there were. It was frustrating him that he'd gotten so little out of life yet. So he's scratched together quite the sum of money, packed his giant backpack and left for the woods. Or the town in the woods somewhere in California, that is.
He'd actually started coughing when he arrived, because the air was so clean compared to New York, it was ridiculous. He'd gotten himself a nice room close to the library, so he would at least be able to attempt to study (but who was he kidding, he'd never see the inside of this building), and after a few days he'd also gotten this job here. The coffee shop was about 5 minutes from his room, so he didn't even have to get up 15 minutes before they opened. The first few days though his mum would call every morning and every night, so of course he'd have to get up earlier than originally planned. But he loved his mom, so whatever makes her happy was okay with him.
The shop owner was a nice old guy, maybe in his sixties, with gray stubbles in his face and a long scar on his left arm. “From an adventure in the rain forest, to find the best coffee beans on the planet!,” he'd told him a few days in. The guy told a lot of stories. Great stories, and Gerry liked listening to him while they had their first coffee in the morning.
Also every morning he saw a dark haired beauty walking by the shop, and in the evening she'd come by again, sometimes stop and smell, but never coming in. There was something about her, but he could point it out. Maybe her graceful stance? Or how her face was so pretty and elegant, yet her hair looked like she'd rubbed a balloon on it? It didn't really fit together, but then again, it somehow did.
The shop owner, Mr. Greenberg, had started giggling once as he'd caught Gerry staring at the girl.
“Son, you should talk to her,” he'd said. “Every time I see her walking by, she's alone. And a girl shouldn't be alone.”
“That's true, sir,” Gerry had answered, grinning. Seriously though, People, and girls especially, shouldn't be alone all the time.
So today, when they were just closing down and the girl was walking by again, Mr. Greenberg bumped him in the side and said, “Go, while it's still bright day outside. You shouldn't follow a girl around in the dark. I'll finish up, go.”
Without much convincing, Gerry grabbed his leather jacket and left the shop, walking the same direction the pretty one was walking in. He'd caught up pretty fast, but didn't really dare talking to her. What even was he supposed to say?
After they'd been turning around a few more corners though, she was gone. Nowhere to be seen, as if she'd vanished into thin air. Sure, the forest he was basically standing in front of was dark, but she wasn't too far ahead, and he should've at least heard her steps and crunching leafs.
So there he was, all alone, 50 feet from the next tree, with a leather jacket around his hips.
Tomorrow, maybe, he thought.
See you soon, princess.