Chapter Text
It was raining, again, for the third time this week, and he was already soaked to the bone.
His hair dripped morosely into his brown eyes and his bag was sodden with the rainwater.
He hated the rain.
It was sticky and damp and smelt odd, it could never stick to one temperature and it was always fucking horizontal.
He really didn't like the rain.
His footsteps made faint imprints on the submerged pavement as he jogged down the street, with his bag held high above his head.
The script inside was probably ruined by now, but all he cared about was getting dry.
Screw the script.
He was sure he could bargain for another.
Maybe.
Reaching The Bell Jar at last, he skidded to a halt and pulled the door open. The bell above signalled his arrival with a sharp ding. Nobody looked up, save for an elderly man in a wheelchair who was sipping his coffee and reading the newspaper. Otherwise, his dramatic arrival went unnoticed by all. A shame, really. A good bit of dramatics and nobody cared.
Neil walked towards the counter, rifling through his bag for the script as he went. When he reached it, he pulled out the paper with a triumphant "hah!" only to see that it was, in fact, completely ruined.
Fuck.
"Usual please, Pittsie! and I swear to everything good on this Earth, if you spell my name as Kneel one more time I will slaughter you." he called.
There was silence from Pitts.
Or who Neil supposed had been Pitts.
He still hadn't looked up, after all.
"Uh, i-i don't, um-" came the response. And then he looked.
Standing in front of him was not Pitts.
It was a boy, around his age, with light sandy hair and the most bewitching green eyes Neil had ever seen. His hands were smudged with what looked like pen ink, and there was coffee stains on his customary red apron. His name badge simply read "Todd."
Oh.
So not Pitts.
"You don't usually work here, do you?"
"Sorry, I'm new here, i-"
Shiiit.
Neil smiled awkwardly and brushed off the boy's apologies.
"It's my bad, shouldn't have assumed, Pittsie is usually on barista duty at this time."
"Pittsie?"
"Wait, Gerard."
He had forgotten that this boy wouldn't know the name, the silly nickname he had given Gerard in school. "Last names only!" the teachers had barked, pushing them out of familiarity and into construct and order. After all, Welton Academy was known for its strict following of rules.
So Gerard became Pittsie and Steven became Meeks, unfortunate enough to be blessed with god awful last names.
Neil was never Perry though.
Not to his friends.
He didn't want to be associated with his last name.
Todd had a small smile playing on his face now. a shy, timid kind of smile, but a smile nonetheless. Neil cracked a blinding grin in return.
Todd's bottom teeth were crooked, he noted.
"I'm sorry, but what was your order? You said you're usual, but I don't- I don't-" Todd said, shaking Neil out of his stupor.
But Neil didn't want to give up his high ground that easily.
Oh no.
"Well. it changes, you see. today it might be a latte, whereas tomorrow it might be a hot chocolate. and yesterday it was an espresso, but in a couple days time, it might even come with a slice of cake."
"How do the other baristas keep up?" Todd said and Neil's grin grew even wider.
"They guess."