I, Arthur Kirkland, was not a happy gentleman. All I wanted was a cup of tea, then to head off to work; but, this stupid Starbucks doesn't want me to, does it?

"Excuse me; may I have an Earl Grey please?" I asked the assistant; glancing behind the colourful counters and puffs of steam to the price board. Typical, there are only two types of tea, and over ten coffees. Can't a man get a decent cup now days? I glimpsed up at the assistant whilst getting together my change. He had a very defiant grin plastered on his face, and ocean blue eyes shone from behind his glasses...But he did nothing. No, 'That'll be one dollar sixty.' No, 'Coming right up.' He just stood there like a lemon waiting to be squeezed or something.

"Oh my God you're British!" He squealed finally.

I felt my cheeks flush up immediately. I've been living in New York for a year now; you would think that my accent somewhat matched the Locals...But, it seemed that this Boy had a thing for the Rainy island.

"Well done, Sherlock." I frowned, forcefully handing over the money for the tea. The boy took the money, thankfully, and signalled to another worker to make it for him, the lazy Sod. Then, he turned back to me.

"Do you believe in love at first sight or do I have to walk past again?" He asked, his obnoxious American accent hitting me right between the temples. There was no way he was doing this, it was ridiculous! Surely it's just some dare devised by the workers...Right?

The American saw that I hadn't bothered to answer his question and took a deep breath. The queue was starting to stack up behind me now; hopefully that worker with my tea would hurry up...

"Yo, I'm new in town; can I have directions to your apartment?" He smirked, raising an eyebrow cheekily. I sighed; this boy sure had some weird tactics of winning over someone...He was about as American as you could get! Look, I don't like to be prejudice, but the American flag jumper, jeans, hat and most likely boxers gave it away.

"Your obviously not new in town, dolt. If anything, I should be the one saying that, Lad!" I scoffed; this boy sure was an idiot.

The assistant chuckled nervously and smiled at my response, as if being caught in the act. I smiled too; not because of him; mind; because the other worker was coming with my tea. The worker gently tapped the flaxen-haired boy on the shoulder, and the latter jumped around in shock.

I felt like crying in dismay as the tea, my tea, flew into the air; before plummeting to the ground to mark the end of his short life. This day had not gone well. Firstly, my alarm didn't go off. Secondly, I get arrested for speeding. And thirdly, I have an interview I'm supposed to be running this afternoon, and I'm caught up with this buffoon!

"Dude was you arrested earlier?"

How did he know?

I sent a warning glare at the assistant; hopefully it sent out 'Just get me my tea' nicely.

The line behind me began to get impatient, I could hear mutters of 'Just get on with it' and 'Urg, British and their tea, eh?' I wanted to tell them that it wasn't my fault, but the American gave another nervous laugh before I could.

"Just wondering, 'cus it's got to be illegal to have those good looks!" He laughed off, then adding "But...You might want to get those eyebrows sorted..."

OH THAT WAS IT.

"Oh, forget this! Keep 'yer tea and keep 'yer suave leather sofas in 'yer fancy shmancy coffee shop!" I snapped, spinning around and storming past the, now exceedingly long, queue and to the door.

"Wait, Britsy!" The American called, just as I had my hand gripped on the tubular handle of the glass door.

"It's Arthur Kirkland, and what." I asked in a monotone way, highly doubtful he had my tea.

"Arthur, can I have a photo of you?" He replied, holding a portable camera to one eye. Oh no, did he want a mug shot of me? Was he going to ban me from this shop? I mean, yes the prices here are pricey; but this was my favourite place for an Earl Grey!

"Why...?" I asked hesitantly.

The boy smiled and aimed the camera at my face.

"I want to show Santa what I want for Christmas!"

"You are UNBELIEVEABLE!" I grunted, storming out the door and slamming it behind me.

~La~Lah~La~Lah~ TIME SKIP~

Once I had got to my office, I sat down and sipped at the instant tea. It wasn't good, but better than nothing. I picked up the interviewees profile; he was due in a minute. The profile read ALFRED F. JONES, in capital print.

'Sounds civilised'

I checked up on his qualifications, eyes widening at what I saw before me. They were simply amazing! "Having such a talented person on the work team would be a big benefit, I'm sure!" I mused to myself, finishing off the tea and chucking the porcelain cup in the bin.

'Arthur Kirkland will see you now; go right in, Alfred.' I heard my secretary say politely from outside. I quickly spun on my chair, placed the profile on the desk and tidied up the paper and myself. 'It would pay to look presentable for this outstanding employee to be' I thought. It was weird, though...I couldn't find a picture with his profile...

"'Sup, British dude!" Alfred shouted, swinging the door open with a swish. Papers rocked into the air and onto the floor, a photo of the devious American from the Starbucks floating mockingly from his profile. Honestly, this was too cliché to be true.

"You have got to be kidding me." I moaned. Head, meet table, table, meet head.

I, Arthur Kirkland, was not a happy gentleman...And I won't be for some time.

A/N

This was written in a hour for an English assessment, I got a 6a :'D But I've edited it now so...Yeah. I'd probably get isolated for bad language. XD

WHO GIVES A SCHEIßE?