A/N: Rainy days inspire me. What can I say?
Disclaimer: nope, don't own Victorious. Shit goddamn.
Beck was frustrated. He would say he was pissed, but he didn't feel he had the right to be. His roommate had sexiled him. Now, Beck wasn't one to cock block but he really had to get shit done. His editor would decapitate his head and feed it to baby eagles for nutrition if he didn't have that article turned in by 8 am. It was now 2:23 am. He would never have it perfect on time. He wouldn't be so nervous about the whole ordeal in any other circumstances, considering how he was pretty calm, cool and collected. Or so he likes to describe himself as. However being the only freshman on the school's paper was unnerving, and his editor scares him. And Beck isn't afraid of much. But the woman has no soul. If it wasn't for the fact that his poor roommate had to deal with Jade's random and frequent visits, Beck would be pissed.
But really it was fucking cold and he couldn't really help from getting pissed that he wasn't in his cozy dorm in NYU sipping some coffee with some fuzzy socks on. He doesn't care if they're not manly enough, but they just don't make fuzzy awesome socks for guys. He remembers the first time Jade caught him wearing his favorite socks. He unfortunately did not get laid that night. Beck found himself thinking about coffee, Jade and New York. He breathed in the crisp December air that was biting at his cheeks, and threw himself into his favorite French themed café.
Cat really didn't like New York much. She especially disliked the winter. A Cat like her doesn't do well in 15 degree weather. She didn't like how the people didn't understand that she was happy all the time. The fact that she could not wear her pretty dresses and shirts and skirts and strappy heels did not sit well with her. She couldn't eat ice cream without feeling frigid, and she was getting pale. It was as if the beautiful LA sun felt betrayed by her absence and was dripping off her as revenge. But even Cat couldn't deny something, and that was that New York never slept, which really worked out considering she didn't either. New York had time square. And time square had lights, and lights were her absolute favorite. All of them made the dark of the night go away, and it was as if fireworks were constantly being lit up and Cat loved the fourth of July.
She was walking to her job. It made her homesickness a little more bearable. It was at a quaint coffee shop called, "Café au lait." The café was meant to give insomniacs or night enthusiasts like her spot to unwind and be able to have a cup of coffee. Finding a place like this for a girl like her must be like what a person must feel when they crack open a clam and a pearl lies inside. Or like finding red velvet ice cream amongst a myriad of vanillas and chocolates. It was a treasure. Going to work was her favorite part of the day. Or night, if you were one for specifics.
Cat opened the door to her job, took off her trench coat revealing a body hugging red dress. She asked August, the owner, for a strawberry's and crème Frappuccino. She always liked to show up an hour early to work, get a feel for the place. The atmosphere of her little café tended to change. Sometimes it would feel energetic and lovely and other times the air would be dense with melancholy. Today was different though. It might have been that Cat felt really sexy in her dress tonight, or the image that was now burned into her mind of Andre's shirt sticking to his body like a second skin after they got caught in the rain today. Whatever it was, Cat was feeling (dare she think it?) sensual and she wasn't about to let this rare occurrence go unnoticed. Cat finished up her frap and made her way to the "Cat Corner." She whispered her song choice to Liam and got ready for the café's chatter to simmer down as it always did minutes before 3 am came along. The quiet approached, and Cat angled her head down in anticipation. She heard the café door open, figured it was probably a late customer. Liam's saxophone's soulful tune finally entered her ears and she was no longer in café au lait. She sat on top of the grand piano by her corner and lifted her head. As the grandfather clock in the opposite corner rang at 3 a.m. precisely, Cat's voice filled the silence.
The first thing Beck noticed was the unsettling silence that met him inside his café. Then the familiar smells of Colombian coffee and brownies that he associated with the place rushed at him. He ran his hand through his hair in both annoyance and confusion. What the fuck was happening? Did no one in the world want him to keep his wonderful head attached to his body? Why was no one assisting him in his need for caffeine? He noted that most in the café had turned around slightly to see the source of the disturbance of the weird silence, but just as quickly they would direct their attention to far corner of the café where he could barely see the figures of a woman and a man. After about 30 seconds of more silence, the lights over the corner began to slowly intensify in their glow and he could clearly see a man playing the saxophone and a woman with her head looking downwards. That's when it hit Beck. Café au lait was known for more than their coffee—however exquisite it was. It was known to be the only privately owned coffee shop around the university to be open 24 hours a day, and it had live entertainment in the early hours. As a matter of fact, that's how Beck had come to learn of the place. He had just never been eager enough to venture into the glacial weather to actually witness their little concerts.
Beck let out a sigh. He now had to wait for his roommate to finish up with his, uhm, activities, he had to wait for this show to be over so he can get his coffee, and he had to wait for his imminent death. He definitely was not finishing that article. He pulled over a stool from the bar and waited for the show to start. Beck was not leaving without that coffee.
A/N: Review babes, you know you want to...