It's Hard To Believe That You're A Part Of Me...

Interview With A Vampire And Shouting Regulars

I was sitting at The Coffee Barn, a small town coffee shop, reading eight books at a time, my morning passtime. My Dad never got how I could keep up with them all, but somehow I did.

The Coffee Barn is like Starbucks for Mahtomedi, Minnesota, except it wasn't next door to Coffee Barn, down the street from another Coffee Barn, or across the street from ANOTHER Coffee Barn. That's why I like this place, one of a kind, the way a lot of people described me.

"Lizzy! How are ya this morning?" Melanie, my best friend in the entire world, shouted from the entrance, making her way over to my table in the back of the place. The regulars were used to it; she did this every morning. But it did cause a stir in the newcomers, causing them to raise their heads from their newspapers, look at her angrily, and continue to read the headlines of another murder or a celebrity death.

"Same as always, Melanie. Shitty. You know I hate mornings." I stuck my tongue out and pointed to it. Childish I know, but that's the way I am. Childish.

"Whatcha reading?" she said, looking over the books that were spread out over the table. She picked one of them up, I'm pretty sure it was a romance novel. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all." I said, taking a sip of my coffee and continued to read my book.

"Heard there was some Frerard fan fic on Quizilla." Melanie said nonchalantly, like it was no big deal, but it absolutely was. She didn't care for it. I loved fan-fiction. It made fan girls', like myself, dreams come to reality, reading web page by web page of the intimate detail of the moments between the guy and girl (or boy, as in Frerard tales or band bromance). It makes me want to live it.

I opened up my Dell laptop, hey, you can only afford so much on a salary of a...oh, what was I again? I've changed jobs so many times, I hardly remember, half the reason I get fired in the first place. Luckily, I got Vista for free because I won some contest in a magazine for taking the best picture of a landscape. Oh that's what I was, a freelance photographer. The best part of the job is that I don't have to do a lot, and I just relax at some coffee shop, like now.

My hands moved quick across the small keyboard, opening a million tabs. I liked having everything on one page, to remind myself that I was busy.

"God, if you type that fast, your fingers will fall off. I know, my pointer fingers were sewn back on by a doctor at the ER." she joked, but with a serious face. Melanie was a writer, and she was damn good at it too.

"Oh, go steal a few ideas out of Harry Potter." I replied, my eyes staring mindlessly at the screen, taking in every detail of Frank's love for Gerard. She just rolled her eyes and some headphones in her ears, mouthing Japanese words, her dream to move to Tokyo.

I sighed, wishing I were Frank or Gerard right now. True love only existed in stories, never in reality. No guy would ever love me like Frank loved Gerard. Nobody would love me like Prince Charming loved Cinderella. It didn't exist, nobody had the potential, even I didn't think I have the potential.

But sometimes, funny things happen.

"AGH! God, why do they have such colorful layouts to their stories?!" I shouted by accident, turning away from the computer and rubbing my eyes. When I looked up, the majority of Coffee Barn to stare at me, for once again being disrupted by whatever they were doing.

"Same here. My eyes are fried from all the stuff I've read online." An unfamiliar voice said to the right of me, and as I turned toward him, it was a guy. I hadn't ever seen him before, and certainly never seen his HAIR before. It stuck up in all directions, like a brown Einstein-esque mop. With chocolate brown eyes hidden behind dark-rimmed glasses to match. He was wearing a black Metallica t-shirt and a pair of jeans.

"Huh, I've never seen you here before." I replied softly, and for some reason, I was staring at him. Why was I staring at him?

"I'm not rich enough for Starbucks, and I thought this place seemed kinda home-y since the first day I saw it. Like a home-away-from-home. Well, besides my apartment, so I guess this would be a home-away-from-home-besides-the-one-I-have-now. So, I decided to walk in. Pretty good so far." he said with a smile. His teeth were perfect white pearls. It isn't even possible how fricking white his teeth were.

"I'm Liz." I smiled back, holding my hand out. I didn't even know why I was smiling, I just was. Oh crap, afterthought. "Well, it's not my full name, but most people call me Liz." IDIOT! Make sure to hit yourself in the head after this.

"Justin." he replied, shaking my hand. Was it just me or could I feel Melanie's eyes burning a hole on the side of my head? I turned my head slightly, not losing eye-contact of Justin, just enough to use my peripheral vision and see. Yup, she was staring at me, and smirking as well, for reasons unknown.

Was I blushing? My face felt warmer than usual. Did I have a fever? Oh, did I have to die right NOW, God? I'm trying to meet some guy, possibly open some doors for you, and YOU want to kill me?

"You're blushing." he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

"I am?" Yes, I'm not dying. But now I have to think of something to put an excuse over it. "Cold, you know. Always cold in Minnesota." I said a bit too quick for anyone to understand me, my shitty response for nervousness, taking another sip of my cappuccino. Oh crap, now I'm counting the tiles on the ceiling, nice. My other response to nervousness.

"Are you counting the tiles on the ceiling?" he said, chuckling, also looking at the ceiling. He thought it was funny. Thank God, I didn't want to freak some guy I just met out.

"Well, I've always liked the...erm, architecture of buildings, and actually the ceiling's one of the most important...uh, parts of the building. Stops everyone from being...rained on." I said, in an attempt to come up with a legitimate reason, but failing miserably. Taking another sip of my cappuccino, I tried to comprehend what I just said, but I couldn't even make it out. God, I suck.

"Huh. I do that sometimes as well, I guess I just never noticed all the architectural brilliance of the ceiling." he replied. I could tell he was holding back a laugh.

I looked down at my watch. 10:30, dammit. "Ah, crap. I gotta go, have to go give these pictures I took of the Alps to Snowboarding Magazine, and of course, I'm going to have to discuss them and all, which ones are good and which ones are not." I rambled, gathering my stuff, putting my laptop and my books in my bag that held everything important to me in it.

"What's your job?" he asked, with a look of curiosity.

"Oh, I'm a photographer." I turned to Melanie, while gathering my stuff. "Make sure to give me back that book when you're done with it. What is that, Pride and Prejudice?"

"Yeah." she said, stuffing a blueberry in her mouth, eyes still glued to the book.

"DON'T get blueberry crap all over that book, I got it signed by the author." I said, and counted the books in my bag. One, two, three, four, five, six...Seven, counting the one Melanie was reading...Where's the eighth? I scrambled around, looking for the book. It was underneath the table, but as I reached for it, Justin got to it first.

"Interview with a Vampire. I always told myself I'd read this, but I never did. Do you mind if I borrow this from you?" he said, looking over the book.

"Sure." I said, looking over the table to make sure I didn't leave anything.

"I guess I'll see you later, then?" Justin said, looking up at me as I walked towards the door.

I stopped and turned around. "Yeah. I'll be here tomorrow." I said, giving him a quick smile, as I hurried out the door. "Bye, Joe!" I yelled to the manager/owner of The Coffee Barn. He was in his early sixties, gray hair and large build. He gave me hope when I didn't have any myself, like a grandfather-type figure. Always a nice attitude, another reason I came here.

Hope they like your pictures, Liz. I know I do." I heard him shout behind me as I ran out the door.

I hope they do, Joe, because I might lose my apartment if they don't. I grabbed my IPod out of my pocket and switched it to "Cemetery Drive" by My Chemical Romance, and desperately searched for my silver Volvo XC90.