A/N: I know it's been quite some time since I last made an appearance here. But I'm actually starting to miss it, the writing and your reviews. It's been what, like, five years since I published the first chapter of "We are a secret", and now if anything I feel too old for this. But hey, an old love never dies. So let's start with something new. A story about the two darlings, taking place years after they graduated.
Chapter One
The autumn wind was grabbing the jackets and scarfs of every passerby that made their way along the sidewalk. The sun was being shy, hiding behind thick clouds that seemed to carry rain, nothing unusual there. Outside leaves were swishing down the road, passing the people who were walking with their eyes pinned to the ground. Walking like that, as if the world around you were somehow going to attack at any given moment, was a habit I deeply connected with the Londoners I had come to know from five years of studying them through the windows of the corner café.
It was a totally different atmosphere from what I came from. A hundred and eighty degree turn from the busy American streets, the sunlight on the west coast, to the narrow lanes and grey sky. The old charm that London had was, however, unbeatable. The old brick houses, attached houses, and the red double-deckers. But the most important thing of them all; the musical scene. What I brought from the US was an arts degree in theatre and music, so my plan had been to move to London to break into the musical industry… it had been my plan for almost half a decade now. And still nothing…
"Hey, I payed for a cup of black coffee. Where is it?" A somewhat annoyed, grey-haired, lady pulled my eyes from the world outside to hers that were tense and buried behind badly drawn on eyebrows.
As to wake me up from a dream I shook my head slightly and blinked a couple of times. "Sorry, one second", I apologized. With an automatic motion I slammed the old coffee grounds into the bin and re-filled it, pushed it down with a leveler and secured the portafilter back into place. I let the machine run hot water through the coffee grounds, into a white cup, while I charged the lady in front of me. "1 pound 80 please", which she handed to me in coins with only an unpleased grunt as a response. Before I gave the cup to her I blended the espresso with boiling hot water to make an Americano. A very confusing name for a very ordinary cup of coffee. "Here you go", I said and apologized again, "sorry for the wait".
She gave me a displeased look and walked off with both her hands hugging the cup.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the reflection of the chrome finished coffee machine. There was nothing to do but sigh at the sight. My brown, long hair, that at the beginning of the shift had been in a neat ponytail, now looked more like a rats' nest than anything else. And the dark circles I had tried to cover up with concealer now shone through as obvious as an uninvited guest through a glass door.
"Daydreaming again, are we Tori?" A young man's voice, in his early thirties, gave out a slight laughter and took his place next to me by the coffee machine.
I pulled my hair behind my ears and dragged my palms against my apron. "No, you know I never do that. Always focused, right?"
Rob chuckled and answered teasingly in his broad Irish accent, "yeah, right", as he loaded the coffee machine again. "You were dreaming about the West End, didn't you?". His bearded smile was so wide that it made him squint. His manors and presence reminded me slightly of an old classmate of mine, named André, who had been my best friend during my high school years. Someone who had always been there, an easygoing and understanding guy. Glad I found his Irish twin lurking between the British bricks .
I nudged Rob playfully on his shoulder, "well there's not much else to do when you take the longest bathroom breaks in history". I chuckled and gave him a quick smirk as I began to take the next order.
The best thing about working at a moderately busy coffee shop in the outskirts of London was that time passed by fairly quickly. There were rarely so little to do that time crawled, nor was it often so busy that everything that could go wrong went wrong. And it was very easy to understand why the cosy coffee shop was liked by many, both unavoidable tourists and regulars. The interior was dominated by dark wood with moss green accents. Slightly orange lights threw a soft and cosy haze over the tables. It was a rarity to find all seatings occupied which made this the perfect place for the ones who really wanted to enjoy their coffee. It was no Starbucks, who had the mindset of; get your coffee, drink it, leave. No, this coffee shop, "The Coffee Bean", was more in the style of; get your coffee, enjoy it, get another cup, talk for a while or read a book, stay till closing and we have to tell you to leave. The opening hours were between 9am till 9pm and you usually worked a full days shift, sometimes half. After the afternoon rush the flow of costumers thinned out and there were usually only two to five tables occupied at the same time, and a line was unheard of.
Rob mumbled something into the bin, in between a deep sigh, as he emptied another load of used coffee grounds.
"Hu? Were you talking to me?" I asked and turned towards him.
He answered, "not really, just said it's an hour left until we close", at the same time as he looked up at me. His eyes got distracted and he nodded lightly at something behind me me. "Erm…?"
"Oh", I spun around and almost lost my balance on the way. A stunning young woman stood on the other side of the counter and looked up at the menu above me with a tiny wrinkle between her eyebrows. "Hi". I greeted her somewhat startled and heard how Rob tried to cover up a chuckle behind me.
She mumbled, "Hi", back at me, without turning away from the coffee-menu, in an American accent. She had a voice that sent my brain into a shortage. "I'll just have a soy latte. Thanks." She dove down into her handbag. Black, soft, curls framed her face. Big green eyes shimmered under the light hanging from the ceiling, full lips tensed as her hand scratched along the bottom of her bag. I couldn't stop looking at her… something about her seemed oddly familiar.
"… That'll be 2 punds 50, please. Just to let you know, we close in an hour." Rob said from behind me and brought me back to reality.
"Sorry", I smiled awkwardly and took the money the woman held out for me.
She gave out a a comforting laugh, "No worries."
"We're not very busy at the moment as you, probably, can tell." I made a small gesture with an open palm over the counter, displaying an old man looking down at a newspaper with his reading glasses so far down his nose that they almost fell of the tip, his coffee cup empty since way back. The table next to the door was occupied by, what looked like, a couple, immersed in an engaging conversation. A woman with red hair in a messy bun sat by the window table on a bar stool, reading a book, sipping on a cup of green tea. "So you can take a seat, we'll bring you the coffee."
The young woman in front of me took a quick look around her and gave me a soft smile, "Thanks."
The sound of the coffee machine seemed to bring my breathing back to normal. It was as if everything had been at a pause and suddenly someone pushed the play button. I walked up to Rob to look over his shoulder at what he was doing.
"So…" he began, "who was that?" Rob began to skim the milk with the steamer wand and looked up at me as the wand turned the soy milk into a whirlpool.
"I don't know… she reminds me of someone…" I replied thoughtfully. This was one of those rare times where I wished we worked at a Starbucks. But now I had no mug-writing to use as an excuse to ask for someones name.
Rob turned the wand of, cleaned it with a paper towel and dunked the jug of skimmed milk onto the counter a couple of times. "Why didn't you just ask her?"
It had been one of those moments where you really wanted to ask for someones name out of recognition but hadn't dared to do so just in case you were wrong. And the chances of me being wrong were quite big. In London you saw someone you thought you knew twice day, at the very least. Once if you were lucky. And the town was crowded with interesting, eye-catching and good looking people all around. So this was just like any other instance, right…?
"Here", Rob handed me the cup of latte, "bring this to her and ask for her name."
"What is it to you?" I asked suspiciously and slowly accepted the cup.
He took my shoulders and turned me towards the opening between the counter and the wall as he said, "I know how you get when you think you know costumers but don't ask for their names. Don't forget that I'm the one that has to work with you for the rest of the week. Unless you want me to switch my shifts with Anna?"
"No way, don't do that." Anna was the owners daughter, a proper nightmare to work with. Everything seemed to be wrong according to her, everything except her.
Robs firm hands pushed me out onto floor. "Then we have a deal."
I sighed and walked up to the young woman who had seated herself in the corner, next to the the big window that faced the streets of London, on the sofa that stretched along the whole wall. She had a laptop open on the table. Her fingers quickly and methodically pressed the keys. You could tell that she definitely knew what she was doing, it looked as though she had been typing on that device for years.
To get her attention I cleared my throat, "here's your coffee", placing the white cup on the dark wood table next to her with a service minded smile on my face.
"Thanks", she smiled back at me. With both hands she brought the cup up to her lips to take a sip. But just before she did, she hesitated and looked puzzled at me. "You're American right?"
I changed my stance to a more comfortable one, signaling that I had time to talk for a while. "Is it that obvious?"
"Well, I can tell you've been here for a long time. But I never seem to fail in recognizing the old west coast accent." She took a sip from her coffee.
When she began talking to me I had hoped that she would continue the conversation, giving me some sort of hint that she recognized me too. That my confusion wasn't one sided. But when she didn't I found no other choice but to do so myself. "So, you're from there?"
She placed the mug down and half closed the laptop with one hand too get a better look at me. "Yeah, went to Hollywood Arts as a teen actually."
My jaw dropped onto the floor and I lost all words. The only thing that seemed to come out of my open mouth was a sound that was more similar to a broken coffee machine. It was the one person I had admired my whole high school career. I remembered a confident girl with more talent in her pinkie than most people had in their whole body, a girl who didn't care about what anyone said or thought about her. She had been someone who always had been brutally honest and with whom you developed a friendship that you needed to learn how to navigate. To be fair she hadn't always been very nice, but once you had her on your side she was fiercely loyal.
Even though I was out of words she now knew that I knew. "And so did you." She gave out a warm chuckle and that signature smirk of hers from the corner of her mouth with one raised eyebrow. "Hi Tori, good to see you."
Shocked I managed to reply, "… Hi Jade."
A/N: So what do you guys think? Is it worth continuing? Please let me know or at least say hi if you're still here.
