Taylor the Latte Boy Chapter 10, a newsies fanfic

The day finally came for me to show my film redo in class and to once again fall under the discerning eye of Bitch-Face Medda (who, admittedly, wasn't quite so bitchy as I liked to think she was). I was more nervous about this time than I'd ever been showing a film for any of my classes, not only because my grade (and, therefore, my future) hung in the balance, but because this film and its subject matter was so close to my heart. I had made myself completely vulnerable and had laid everything out there. If she didn't like it…well, that was it. I was bled dry and had nothing more to give.

It's a strange sensation, watching people watch your work. You're so conscious of their reactions that it's difficult to enjoy it. Will they laugh at the funny parts? Will they cry at the sad parts? Will they get the subtle messages? Will they appreciate the choices you made? And this was just a crappy little two and a half minute student film; I can't imagine how it would be to premiere a full-length big budget film. I simply slunk down in my seat and kept my eyes downward on my desk, not wanting to catch anyone's gaze; then I waited for the film to be over. A small sweat overcame me and I felt my skin burning up, though I wasn't sure with what.

As the last frame faded out, Medda brought the lights up. "Taylor," she called. I looked up. "Please come to the front of the classroom."

I shuffled up to the front obediently, my shoulders slumped and my hands shoved in my pockets.

"Now, explain to us your film."

"Um, it's just about a guy who loves this girl, but then she cheats on him, so he kind of becomes reclusive."

"I see. And was there any particular inspiration for this?"

Yes, the last few weeks of my stupid life. "Yeah…just, you know, stuff I've seen from people's relationships."

"Ah." She turned to the class, asking, "Does anyone else have anything to add or ask?"

They were all silent. I wasn't sure if that meant they loved it or meant they hated it. Most likely, it meant they were bored out of their minds and were counting down the minutes until class was over.

Medda turned her attention back to me and I waited for her to tear into me as she had before. But, to my surprise, her face broke into a wide smile. "Well, Taylor, I see this was just the kick in the ass you needed. You have obviously taken my advice to heart, and it shows in this new film."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. This film feels like you, it exudes you."

"Uh, thank you?" A film about a pathetic guy and his pathetic love life exuded me? Not exactly a high compliment.

"This is the passion you should bring to all of your films if you ever want to be successful. I you don't have passion for the film, you can't expect your audiences to have it either."

"So does that mean a change in my grade?" I asked hopefully.

Medda didn't disappoint. "This is an A film, and deserves an A in grading. Thank you, Taylor, you may return to your seat."

I slid into my desk with a sigh of relief. Behind me, Nora gave me a hearty pat on the back. "Way to go, Snitch," she whispered. "It really was a great film."

"Thanks. I had enough inspiration. Funny; I hate Skittery, but he managed to give me what I needed to make a great film. Well, great by student film standards at least."

"Hey, anger can be a great catalyst sometimes. Just look at every country and emo song ever written."

As class disbanded, Blink met up with me and Nora, slinging his arms around our shoulders. "Life is good," he announced jovially.

Nora raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like someone got laid."

"And how! I tell you, he maybe be a total asshole, but Oscar really knows what he's doing when it comes to sex."

"I'll add that to the list of things I could have died without ever knowing," I grumbled, mostly out of resentment. Blink may have been my friend, but it didn't mean I liked hearing about his getting some with my ex-boyfriend's bandmate.

Blink ignored me, recognizing that my comment had come from a place of bitterness at Skittery rather than any anger at him. "What's weird," he said, "is that he's starting to become…well…kind of affectionate."

"That's bad?" Nora asked.

"Not bad; just weird. I'm not used to seeing him act that nice."

"Has he said the 'L' word yet?"

"No," Blink admitted as a blush crept over him, "but he's been kind of hinting at it."

I made a face when he wasn't looking. This talk of love was giving me a toothache. I deftly changed the subject. "So how's the new job treating you, Nora?"

At that, her eyes alit and she clasped her hands together, holding them over her heart. "Oh, Snitch! I don't know if it's just that working at Starbucks was hell itself, but working for the boutique is like heaven on Earth. I get twenty percent off all of the merchandise, I don't have to wear a green apron or black cap, and my boss is a new age, hippie-dippy woman who only plays songs from the 60's and who doesn't believe in enforcing punctuality. Not that I abuse that, of course. I wouldn't be a minute late and even risk losing such a fantastic job. I mean, honestly, I almost orgasm just thinking about how much I love this job."

Blink and I exchanged looks of disgust above Nora's head. "And that's another addition to the list of things I could have died without knowing."

"You know what I mean," she said, giving me a light slap to the chest.

"Hey, you guys want to grab a bite at the 49th St. Diner?"

"Can't," Nora said. "I've got my Chemistry class in half and hour."

"Skip it."

"I can't, Blink. I've already wasted my skip limits; anymore and I'll fail."

"Loser," he said with an exaggerated roll of his good eye. "What about you, Blink?"

"Work starts in an hour and I need to get home to change and rest."

"Ugh! Why don't my friends have lives?" he bemoaned.

"Can't your little sex buddy meet you for lunch?" I asked.

"Oscar's got a band meeting or something stupid like that. He said it was super important. I think the Leather Condoms might be thinking of breaking up, but you didn't hear that from me."

I couldn't deny that I felt ever slightly gleeful at the news. It would serve Skittery and Racetrack right, after all. Petty, sure, but I was still in victim mode.

"I've got to get to class," Nora said, "but I promise to meet up for drinks tonight to celebrate."

"Celebrate what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Can't we just celebrate life or something?"

"Whatever, just let me know. I'll bring the vodka," Blink said. "I've got to eat something, though. I skipped breakfast this morning because Oscar insisted on a quickie."

"Gah!" I cried as I covered my ears. "Way too much information, Blink!"

We exchanged our goodbyes before Nora headed off to class, Blink headed off in search of food, and I headed back to my apartment to get in a little rest before my afternoon shift. It was nearing the holiday season which was a busy time for us; one needed to pace himself for that.

As I sat on the train, I looked around with disgust at the many obvious couples around me. People holding hands, smiling, even kissing. It made my stomach churn. What right did they have to be so happy when I was still so miserable? If I couldn't have luck with love, then nobody else could either, I decided in a moment of petulance. Like I said, I was still in victim mode.

When I exited the train, I saw a man with a mop of curly hair sitting on a bench with his back toward me. In his hands, he held a guitar, which he was strumming softly. In a moment of excitement and weakness, my heart leapt into my throat and I rushed over to him…

But it wasn't Skittery. Not even close.

And that just broke my heart.

"So that's one venti mocha with whipped cream and a pump of almond, and a glazed doughnut," I all but yawned as I entered hour three of my five hour shift. "Anything else, ma'am?"

With my shift more than half-way over, I was beginning to plot out the rest of the evening. I'd get drunk with Nora and Blink later that night, of course, but before that I planned to head back to my apartment and enjoy a few hours of Ed Wood movies to lighten my sour mood.

"Snitch!" Al barked, pointing to our diminishing food display. "Get into the back and get more salads and sandwiches from the freezer."

I grumbled under my breath, but did as was told, intentionally taking as long as I could in the freezer to find the food. Standing in a sub-zero freezer was preferable to dealing with a shitty manager and asshole customers. When I couldn't take the cold any longer, I re-entered the front with the food items bundled in my arms.

Then, I promptly dropped them all to the floor. Al, of course, let out a string of choice words for me, but his voice barely even registered in my mind. My focus was on the small group of guys who were standing in the doorway. I recognized them as The Leather Condoms. Swifty had his guitar, and Racetrack his bass. Oscar had a drum slung over his chest and Jack was standing nearby with a tambourine.

Skittery was standing front and center with his guitar. He shot me a small smile as I gaped at him.

"Everyone," he announced in a loud voice, "may I have your attention? I'd like to sing a song if all of you don't mind. It's a song that I ripped of from Kristin Chenoweth, but I've changed the lyrics a bit to fit my situation. It's dedicated to a very cute barista and…" He hesitated for a moment. "Well, I just hope he likes it."

I watched in wonder as Oscar counted them down. The band began playing, unplugged and without the same blasting sound they usually had. Then, ever so softly, Skittery began to sing a tune that sounded familiar:

There's this boy who works for Starbucks

Whose name is, sadly, Taylor

It is sad his name is Taylor

Because of some stupid song

The first time that I met him

He shyly told me, "…Hi…"

When he shyly told me, "…Hi…"

My attraction was so strong

And that day when I first met him

I glanced down at his name tag

His nametag, it read 'Snitch'

So I asked him to explain

He said his name was Taylor

But that he'd had to change it

Because some stupid theater hags

Are so fucking insane

I laughed and said "I'm sorry

But I do not understand…"

Then he told me 'bout the song

Which inspired the one I'm singing with my band.

Snitchy, my latte boy

He gives me java and gives me joy

Oh, Snitchy, my latte boy!

I love you

So I finally worked my nerve up

To invite him on a date with me

He went on that date with me

It was the best day of my life

Then I kind of messed it up with us

And I did some dumbass shitty things

These shitty things brought nothing

But lots of pain and strife

And I rue the day I did those things

Not just because I lost Snitch

But because I truly hurt him

And he didn't deserve it

So I regret the things I did

Because they hurt him so much

And when I think of how they hurt him

It makes me feel like shit

I want to make it up to him

But I'm not sure how I can

I just hope that this will show him

That I want him to be my man

Snitchy, my latte boy

He gives me java and gives me joy

Oh, Snitchy, my latte boy!

I love you

I used to think I was the kind of guy

Who'd never find his true love

Now that I've met the boy of my dreams

There's no other guy that I dream of

Snitchy, my latte boy

He gives me java and gives me joy

Oh, Snitchy, my latte boy!

I love you

So many years my heart has waited

Who'd have thought that love could be so caffeinated?

Snitchy, my latte boy!

I love you

As the final notes of the song faded out, I wasn't aware of Al, who had now turned his attention to the band and was shouting at them to get out, nor was I aware of the shocked parents whose young children were giggling after hearing some words that weren't meant for young ears. My attention was on Skittery and Skittery alone. My hands clutched at the counter and my feet were rooted in the ground, barely holding me up as I felt my entire body melt into goo.

"Look, Snitch," he said, pointedly ignoring Al, "I know I messed up. It…it was a mistake. If I could go back in time, I would change it. I would pick you any time."

A small chorus of "awww" emanated from the other customers like a sitcom audience. It was obvious whose side they were on.

"I'm not saying I deserve a second chance—I probably don't—but if you can find it in your heart to give me that second chance, I would never take it for granted again. I love you."

And just like that I was reverted back to a teenager-like state of mind and heart. I imagined tiny little hearts hovering above my head as my cheeks grew red and I averted my gaze down to my shoes.

But should I give in? Should I ignore the rage that had been bubbling up inside ever since I opened that door to find Skittery in a lip-lock with Racetrack? Should I allow my heart to be won by a stupid parody of a stupid song?

Well, yes, but to be fair, his adorable smile and gorgeous eyes certainly helped woo my heart, just as it had the first time.

I tore off my apron and the ridiculous hat, tossing them to the ground as I exited from behind the counter. Skittery watched me hopefully, wondering what I was going to do.

"That was an asshole thing to do."

"I know it was."

"And it hurt me a lot."

"I never wanted to hurt you."

"But," I conceded, "Lord knows I've made my share of mistakes with my friends, and if they never forgave me I'd be a pretty lonely guy."

At that, Skittery's lips twitched upward into a smile. "So…are you saying that you…"

I grabbed his face in one swift motion and pressed my lips against his. It had been weeks since I'd tasted his lips and I had forgotten just how good they were—a nice mixture of strawberry chapstick and coffee. Slowly—and regrettably—I peeled away and opened my eyes. "I'm saying that if you do it again I might have to hurt you."

"I won't," he said quickly.

"Good." I pecked him once again on the lips. "Because I'd hate to have to hurt you."

Skittery's arms wrapped around my waist as he pulled me in for another kiss. I heard whoops and cat calls from his bandmates, as well as a few of the Starbucks customers.

"Snitch!" Al hissed. "You get back behind this counter! You're still on the clock."

Maybe it was the fact that I was still high from my successful film for Medda's class. Maybe it was that I was currently in the arms of a very sexy man. Or maybe it was just because I'd had enough of this crap. Whatever the reason, I turned around and flipped Al the bird. "Fuck it," I said, "I quit. You can go ahead and shove it up your ass."

I heard Skittery laugh, a gorgeous throaty laugh. "I love it when you talk dirty."

That night we celebrated. The group consisted of me, Skittery, Blink, Oscar, Nora, Swifty, Jack (with some curly-haired boy who was definitely not Sarah), Racetrack, and a skinny blonde kid who was introduced to me as Spot, the guitarist who had quit the band before Skittery joined. He and Race seemed quite chummy for two squabbling ex-lovers; I supposed something about this ordeal had forced a change in Racetrack and how he viewed relationships.

We settled down in the apartment inhabited by Swifty, Jack, and Oscar, with a bottle of vodka a bottle of tequila between us. Oscar had already retreated to his bedroom with Blink in tow and I noticed Jack was inching that way with his new boy-toy.

As for me? Well, I was sitting on the end of the couch with a tipsy Skittery resting against me while Nora, Swifty, Race, and Spot played Rock Band.

"Hey, Skittery?" I whispered as my hand softly stroked his hair.

"Yeah?" he asked.

"Did you write the lyrics to that song you sang at Starbucks?"

"Of course. Who else do you think would have written them?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Did you like the song?"

"It was cheesy. Like, really cheesy. Like Disney cheesy." I gave him a kiss on the forehead. "I loved it."

"Good. Because no matter where you work, from now until I die, you'll always be Snitchy, My Latte Boy."

AN: That's the end of this! Thank you all for reading and reviewing!