It hadn't started out as a very good day for her, but Piper liked to stay on the positive side of things. Usually.
But today was different.
First of all, she'd missed the bus and had had to walk to the diner she worked at (resulting in her third tardy that month out of the five permitted in the strict joint). She had stepped in sticky gum and when she'd finally gotten to work, her manager yelled at her and slapped three orders on the counter, walking away. She'd had two milkshakes spilled on her, one case of a spoiled toddler screaming and throwing his fries and ketchup at her, and five drunk buffoons who tried to flirt and grope her.
Granted, she didn't have to work; her father's wealth was enough for her, her kids and grandkids to live off of, but she liked the independence. And she hated depending on her dad. Who'd gotten her into the college she went to and basically bought her way out of whatever legal trouble she'd caused as a child-which was a lot, mind you.
Her (busted) car-a Porsche, obviously-her condo, her tuition-everything was paid for her by her father. So Piper didn't have to live like the rest of the kids at her university, broke and eating ramen for dinner every night. But, for her, it felt satisfying to be able to make money and spend it-the money she'd earned. She didn't have that much to spend it on, though. So the job was primarily a distraction from her studies, a way for her to feel like a normal college student.
She wiped down the counter, scrubbing the same stain she'd been scrubbing for the past two minutes.
It was an exhausting job. She sometimes wondered why she needed to feel like a normal college student when she could be happily at home, watching Netflix on her plush leather couch on her flat screen with a bowl of Rocky Road.
She hummed a tune to try and ease her stress. It didn't work. Her humming turned to softly singing the lyrics as she lost herself in the music inside her head.
Places, places, get in your places,
Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces;
Everyone thinks that we're perfect,
Please don't let them look through the curtains-
"You've got pipes there, kid," appraised her boss gruffly.
On the inside, Piper rolled her eyes. Ha, ha. As if she hadon't heard that one before. "Yep," she muttered. "That's me. Piper with the pipes."
"I'm serious, Piper. I've heard you full out singing before. It's...it's really beautiful. You should do something with it."
Piper looked at Clarisse weirdly. It was rare that she acknowledged Piper at all, let alone offer a compliment. Strangely, that was one thing she liked about the woman. No special treatment for the daughter of Tristan McLean.
It would still be nice to have a pleasant "hello" in the mornings, though.
"What're you lookin' at me like that for, Beauty Queen? Wipe the counter; it ain't closing time yet!"
Piper scowled at her for the pet name.
The dreadful thing had originated when she had come in the diner the first day of the job, and Randy, the sixteen year old janitor-no joke-literally stared at her in her (admittedly cute) blue uniform, as if he couldn't believe she was going to walk in everyday to work. Clarisse had come in with her ever-so-charming personality to see what all the commotion was about and saw Piper standing there with the employees staring at her. "Yes, that's exactly what we're here for: to stare at the beauty queen. Get back to work, you lazy asses!" Piper had been mortified. "Don't think you're getting any special treatment here, girl, with your eyes and your pretty little braids. You're here to work, and you will work, or you can go back to your penthouse in your little Maserati and have your daddy give you some money instead." With that, Clarisse shoved a notepad and a pen into her hands. "Table fourteen, Beauty Queen. Think you can remember that?"
After the humiliation had worn off, Piper had felt indignation. She would prove herself to those people. She wasn't a "Beauty Queen" incapable of completing the simplest tasks. She was Piper McLean. She'd stolen cars when she was younger (nothing she was usually proud of but she'd felt the need to defend herself...in her mind) and gone through a lot more than they thought she had. And she did prove herself to them, earning a new kind of respect from them. Even Clarisse, though she still called Piper "Beauty Queen." All her coworkers had become her sorta-friends. That was one of the reasons she walked through that door every day.
"That's a pretty song you're singing there," a male voice interrupted. "Kinda morbid, but I like it."
Piper looked up, face slightly pink, to see a cute guy looking at her. Blonde hair, blue eyes, kind of an All-American-Boy. "Thanks," she mumbled. She'd been singing Sippy Cup. "That's how most Melanie Martinez songs are."
Piper didn't think of herself as insanely beautiful, but others certainly seemed to. Walking to work that day, she'd been catcalled by a group of gangly teenage boys over her "banging pair of getaway sticks." She was sick of the "oh I get lost in your kaleidoscopic eyes" and "your smile is as radiant as the sun" and all that crap. The last time she had checked, it wasn't Shakespearean times.
So it was nice to be complimented on something other than her looks.
Suddenly clearing her throat, she adjusted her posture, brushing off invisible dust from her uniform and smiled her bright waitress-smile at him. "Anyway, what would you like, sir?"
He grinned at her, and that made Piper's knees weak. She cursed herself for being so girly and quickly took out her notepad, scribbling down his order. He was the only customer in the diner; rush hour number three was over and it was 9:12. All the other employees had gone home except for the chef (and her best friend's girlfriend), Calypso. It would take a while for his order to be ready. So what did that mean for Piper?
Awkward times.
Yay.
"Do you know any other songs?" the guy, Jason, asked, blushing immediately afterwards. Of course she knew other songs. It wasn't like she was living under a rock. But she decided to take pity on the guy and answered him.
"Yeah."
"Do you...think you could...maybe sing one?"
Piper's eyes had widened into saucers. "S-Sing one? Here? Now?"
He scratched the back of his neck and smiled sheepishly. "Um. Yeah. I mean, if you don't mind."
She'd been asked to sing before. Her answer had always been the same: Sorry, I don't sing in public. But now...she kind of felt compelled to sing. Jason was a stranger, after all, and she probably wouldn't see him again, so it didn't matter if he judged her. "Sure."
She just stared at him for a bit before realizing he was waiting for her to sing. "Oh! Um," she nervously giggled, "What do you want me to sing?"
He shrugged. "Anything. Your favorite song?"
Hm. "Ok. But I'm warning you: I've never sung in front of someone before."
Her favorite song...what would that be?
"I've seen the world
Done it all
Had my cake now
Diamonds, brilliant
And Bel Air now
Hot summer nights, mid July
When you and I were forever wild
The crazy days, city lights
The way you'd play with me like a child," she started the first verse to "Young and Beautiful" by Lana Del Rey.
"Will you still love me
When I'm no longer young and beautiful?
Will you still love me
When I got nothing but my aching soul?
I know you will, I know you will
I know that you will
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful?"
She sang every single word from memory. This was the kind of love she wanted to have, one she wasn't introduced to until she was older, as it wasn't really present in Hollywood. Even her own parents, an actor and a supermodel, had married each other for the sake of appearances. Now they were still married, but openly cheated on each other. Piper didn't want that in her life. She wanted the love in the song.
Before she knew it, the song was over. For her, it was one of those songs that she wished would never end.
Jason just sat there staring at her and Piper was afraid that he would've thought she was an awful singer. Was she too pitchy? Were her dynamics off? Maybe sh-
"That," Jason cut off her mind rambling, "was amazing, Piper. I mean, the song itself is beautiful, but you just...enhanced that like-wow. You're amazing. And yeah, I just repeated myself." Jason stared at her as if she were the most valuable thing in the world. His blue eyes sparkled with childish excitement in the dim, flickering diner lights that did wonders to the contours of his face and she'd never wanted to kiss someone so much an-
Ding ding. The bell snapped her out of it. Piper tried reassuring herself that the urge was just a spur of the moment thing and set Jason's order down on the table. He picked up a fry and pulled out his wallet, slipping something out of it. A business card.
"Here. My dad is the CEO of Thunderbolt Enterprises-" Piper squealed internally (it was the best music company in the industry) "-and I sometimes act as a talent scout. You, oh pretty one, have definitely got talent. I'll speak with him personally about this."
"Oh my gods, thank you! Thank you so much, seriously." Piper was smiling so wide her cheeks were starting to ache. (Jason seemed to have a little trouble speaking after that).
"U-Um. Yeah. No problem. You're good. By the way, I'm going to need your last name, too."
"McLean. Piper McLean."
Jason seemed stunned. "Like-"
"Yes," she interrupted. "Like Tristan McLean. My dad."
Jason leaned back. "Wow," he chuckled. "That's...that's great. My dad's gonna love you."
She smiled at him exuberantly again (causing him to nearly fall out of his seat) and leaned against the counter in between them. They made small talk through the night, and, surprisingly, there was no awkwardness between the two. It was 10:00 by the time he asked for his receipt. Piper handed it to him, and he gave her his credit card. She glanced down at it and stopped in her tracks. A $20 tip. That was...wow. So she inserted his credit card in and printed out a copy of his receipt, hesitating before suddenly scrawling something on it. When she went back to give his card back to him, Jason was gone. He wasn't inside the diner. She rushed outside, hoping to catch him before he left, and there he was, leaning against the outer wall. "You-You forgot your...credit card."
Jason slowly smirked. She narrowed her eyes at him. "No you didn't." She punched him playfully and he caught her hand, standing up so that he wasn't leaning against the wall.
"No, I didn't," he admitted. He looked at the receipt to see the "CALL ME" and number sloppily written on it. Piper was flushed. He wasn't supposed to see that until he was out of the diner-away from her. He shoved the credit card and receipt in his back pocket and looked at her. Her heart was racing-would he tell her not to contact the company?
But he moved closer to her, so close that she felt his breath against her. So close that she could see the barely-there freckles. He grinned, and she went up on her tiptoes, annoyed that he was taking so long. His hand was warm on her neck, the other around her waist. She had both arms on his shoulders, sliding up farther to comb them through his hair. He tilted his head and pressed his lips against hers more forcefully, turning them both around so that she was pressed against the wall. His lips were soft and sweet, tasting like the diner ketchup. Both his hands on her hips seemed to be burning against her skin and the rain was now coming down on the two and his hands crept lower, lower, lower until she was being hoisted up against the wall with her legs around his waist-
Stop.
No, she didn't want to stop.
But she had to. They were moving too fast. She gently pushed him away a bit, standing on her own two feet. She smiled up at him to silently let him know that he hadn't done anything wrong. She placed a sweet peck on his lips again and they were soaked from the rain but she didn't care, no she didn't care one bit. She put both her hands on his face, running them through his hair.
"I've been wanting to do that since I heard you sing that second time," he breathed. She grinned widely. "And since I saw you smile after handing you that business card," he added and she giggled.
"And maybe we can do that again-" she put a hand on his chest when he leaned in "-another time. I have to go back inside. You have my number," she winked, "So call me. But I still work here, so. I'll see you later, Superman."
He fake pouted and looked so ridiculous and pathetic that she couldn't stop herself from kissing him on the cheek. When she pulled back, there was a different look in his eyes, and a softer smile. "I'll see you later, my Beauty Queen." And with that, he walked back to his car and she walked inside the diner, feeling like a lovesick teenager coming back from her first date, feeling all mushy from when the guy kissed her outside her door.
She looked at the business card.
I'll see you later, my Beauty Queen.
For once, that didn't sound like an insult.
~o~
Meh. I don't love this; Percabeth is really my forte. But I thought I'd try Jasper.
I feel like Piper would want to have her own job for the whole independence thing-also to feel like a normal college student and not a girl with a mega-rich dad and a goddess for a mother.
I think I am better at one-shots than full-length stories. So that's what I'll mostly be writing.
Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated.
Song of the Day: You and I by Ingrid Michaelson