Chapter Text
The doors slid open, the heat of the building making the windows fog up with moist, rain gently hitting the roof as the wind chimes gently clinged as I entered.
It was so humid in the tiny place, I could barely see outside the street.
The café was nearly deserted, no customers sitting at the couches or benches, empty cups left on trays and still warm. Despite the state, the lamps and heaters seemingly kept the entire establishment cozy, decorated with warm colours with wooden floors and furniture. It made me feel sorry, throwing my drenched umbrella at the rack by the doorstep dripping all over the waxed floorboards.
I am so exhausted. The weather forecast said it'd snow today, but it ended up raining since the afternoon, and so I had to run down nearly five streets in this crappy condition. It didn't help that it hasn't gotten any warmer, either. To seek refuge from this, I didn't pay any mind to anything else and just told myself to get. That. Coffee. It was as if my legs were moving on their own, at this point. I'm freezing cold and wet down the calves!
I approached the counter, panting, frantically grabbing my glasses and cleaned the lenses with my shirt before putting them back on.
"Um, 'scuse me?" I looked over, nobody was at the cashier.
"Oh my God, don't tell me you're closed," my eyes snapped over to the door.
'Sorry, We're closed!' The sign read. That means on the outside, they're open.
A loud thud came from under the counter, the wooden frame shaking slightly. Muffled cries of "ow" could be heard.
From there emerged a scrawny man, holding the top of his head with a pained expression as he squatted.
"Darn, that hurts..."
A southern accent... Here? That's rare.
"Oh, please excuse me! Welcome to my café!" The latter let go of his head, stood up, hands behind his back as if nothing happened.
"Are you alright?"
"Oh, uh," he stuttered, looking below, "yes, I'm okay. Thanks for checking."
His smile was wide, practically picture perfect. He had a sharp, pointed jawline, with a light stubble, smiley eyes, and thick eyebrows. And exceptionally... Slim.
I couldn't take my eyes off of him.
"What were you doing there?"
I want to talk to him,
"Oh, I was, just..."
even just small talk,
"I was organising all of our stock,"
that'd be okay.
...
"What're you looking at?" His celebrity smile faltered.
"Oh—" Damn, I was caught staring!
I'm not sure why, but...
"Do I look bad?"
I feel a sense of familiarity.
"I'm sorry, what?" Did I hear that right?
This isn't someone new.
"I— Nevermind," the pretty barista started laughing. It nearly stunned me.
"No, you don't look bad. I was just looking, cuz ..."
I trailed off. That's too much information.
"Wait, could I stare at you back?"
Without a word, I straightened my back, and tried to put on my brave face.
He gazed at me, the corners of his lips curled up, "wait, I'm trying to pinpoint who you look like..."
My hands balled up into fists on my sides. I was beginning to feel that same rush as to when a girl flashes me her boobs when I'm off-stage.
His fingertips tapped against the wooden bars of the counter as he squinted at me.
How come he doesn't recognize me as a total sex-God rockstar? Oh, wait!
I reached up and took off my glasses.
"Oh, wow!" He perked up, "Rivers Cuomo? From that Weeze band?"
"Yes," I stammered, "yeah, actually. I am Rivers, from Weezer. And you are?"
"I'm Brian," he gestured towards his name tag, wherein his full name, 'Brian Bell' was engraved on the silver plastic slab.
"So, what would you like to order, Mr. Buddy Holly?"
I scanned over the menu placed right above his head on top of the cupboards, looking through the options.
After all, this is my first time at this café. I have no idea if the coffee is any good. I might as well get a good first impression, right?
"How about you give me a recommendation?"
Brian put a hand to his hip, "hmm... Aha!" He snapped his fingers, "you should try our dark latte."
"Dark latte it is then," I grabbed my wallet, finger slid into it as I prepared ten, to fifteen dollars.
"That'll be five."
"Five? For a latte?"
"...Yeah."
"That's... ridiculously cheap."
"I keep everything affordable here,"
That was convenient. A little too convenient. Everything about this little shop I just stumbled into has been so... Nice, down to the atmosphere.
It's just such a nice breather, between what has been one of the most hectic tours of my entire life.
"That's so nice. I'm pretty lucky to be here by myself, huh?" I tried to pass off a light chuckle.
"Yeah," he said, putting whipped cream in my cup, "usually there's more people here, lots of usuals coming in and out. But this is my first time having a famous person come in!"
"Heh," I knew I was a big deal already, but hearing it from him felt pretty good, "yeah."
I was trying to ignore this unshakable feeling inside.
This 'Brian' guy here...
He's just so warm, and familiar,
like a freshly brewed cup of coffee in the morning breeze, looking out to the dramatic scenery of flourished forests—or bright flashy lights illuminating a bustling city at sunset.
I feel like every smile and laugh is one we've shared thousands of times before.
And although the sky continued to pour, unsuitable for snow, I felt as if I was wrapped with blankets with how comfortable I am.
"Here, your latte."
I took the drink, and sat on a stool right by the counter.
I wrapped my hands around the cup, thawing my frozen hands before taking a sip.
It was delicious.
"So, how do you like it?" He bent over, elbows on the counter.
"It's great, like, really great," I savored the taste as much as I could. Now I feel warm inside, too.
"Oh, thank you."
Brian watched as the rain began to die down, the cold wind whistling it's song of its inevitable freeze.
I got up, seeing as though it was getting late, nearly 10 pm.
"You're going out in that cold?"
I turned around, "I've got no choice. I have to head back to my hotel room."
He crossed his arms, before waving at me.
"It was nice meeting you."
I couldn't dare to move and further, feet practically glued to the ground.
"I'll come back here, sometime."
"I look forward to it!"
I dragged the weights that were attached to my hips and walked out the door with them, grabbing my umbrella.
I walked back on the street, one that I thought I'd go down by myself, now with a cup of comfort as if that silly little barista was a blessing from above... Or a curse.
I just don't get it, I'd scratch my eyes, trying to clear my vision as if I were seeing things. Did that just happen?
I haven't felt deja vu so intense before.
This Brian guy... What, was he the wife in my past life or something? I'm being so weird about some barista.
I'm not sure why I feel this way, but... All I know is that I'm definitely coming back.