A ripple of song echoed through the lonesome cafe, as the rightfully nicknamed Melody wiped away the tables while dancing to Galaway Girl. Her hips bounced to Ed Sheeran’s words, and as she was finishing up she didn’t hear the bell on the door ring. After all, at nine in the night, who could dare enter a coffee shop which had closed three hours earlier? Ofcourse, if could also be her fault for forgetting to lock the door.
(bRuh this is romance so I’m improvising, fite me)
A young adult peered into the cafe, his pale hand still wrapped around the doorknob. He had a message bag full of homework slung over a skinny shoulder and the male looked exhausted. Zackary had had a series of long nights, and had been looking all over town for a place to study and do homework. Now he finally found the familiar cafe from all of those years ago, when things had been better. When hope had lived and resonated within his soul. Now he was left with a scar, pale skin, and a child to take care of. He had left his tiny son with a close friend of his as an excuse to get out of the house, and it’d be suspicious if he returned so soon.
“Oh… am I interrupting something?” He asked, his voice hoarse and pained. “I’ve been looking for somewhere to eat for hours, now.”
Melody caught sight of Zackary from the corner of her eye, and would have answered him if the beat in her headphones hasn’t suddenly dropped. Instead, she used one hand to press the speak closer to her ear and another finger to point to a freshly cleaned place at the counter. She smiled politely, gesturing to give her a sec, then went to the back of the cafe to jam out for the remaining forty five seconds of her jam.
Zackary watched the waitress hurry away, shrugged, then shut the door and slouched across the drab cafe and sat at the spot. He sighed softly and pushed his things onto the counter, crossing his arm on the and leaning down onto the comfortable bag as he waited. What was he doing? He didn’t have homework. He had damn spring break tomorrow!
(But I thought that's why he came to the cafe). Soon enough, Melody stumbled from the backroom and fell against the counter with a loud bam! Her grin was bright and as clumsy as her footsteps, but her voice was sharp and clear.
"Heya, how can I help ya'?" Before allowing Zackary to respond, she burst into laughter. "You look like something right out of a horror show. Hey now, I know exactly what you need!" And before he could protest, Melody buzzed off, almost instinctively grabbing powders from various shelves and sloshing a cup of water into a coffee maker. In mere seconds, she had whipped the top of the petite cup with an overload of whip cream and slid it to Zackary.
"This is my secret recipe, guaranteed to turn you back into a human!"
(Yes he realized he didn’t have anything to do)
Zackary jumped out of his skin when she clattered over to him, hastily sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
“I just needed somewhere to—“ He cut off with her interjection, opening his mouth to protest that he didn’t need anything (that he truly couldn’t afford it). He jumped again when a cup was slammed in front of him.
“I-I, really…” Back to a human, huh? He sighed softly and cupped his face into his hands again.
"Aw, come now." She leaned heavily back against the counter, putting a hand on one side of her mouth. "If I were being, honest, no one's tried it yet. And since you're technically helping me, how about I make it free of charge? Deal?"
Zackary glanced up at her, swallowing a little and his mismatched gray eyes shaded by his long hair. “I guess I could try it,” He murmured softly, grabbing the cup and sipping at the coffee. It tasted like a wonderous mix of cocoa powder, coffee itself, and what tasted like a hint of white chocolate. Not to mention the cream at the top.
“It’s eh… good.” He grinned a sharp-toothed grin.
Melody let out a light- heartened groan.
"Good? That was supposed to be the next invention of the century!" She turned back to clean the remaining dishes, leaving Zack to finish his coffee.
"But since I can't stand the silence, I wanna know every nook and cranny about you." She gave another mischievous grin. "That'll be your way of paying, I guess."
Zackary couldn’t help a tiny eye roll over the cup as. slipped at it again. “There’s not much to know about me,” The adult said softly, sitting down the cup with a clink against the surface of the counter. Nothing that you have to know, at least, Zackary sighed to himself, curling his fingers together.
Melody blinked for a moment, taken by surprise.
"Did you say something?" And before allowing him to respond, shook her head vigorously and flashed another sheepish grin. "Sorry, sometimes I hear people say things they don't really say. I guess that's what I get for having blaring headphones on all the time, huh?" She pulled a chair across from Zackary and sat down, resting her head within her arms. Her emerald eyes burned intensely, as if they were trying to peer within the man's very soul. "Amuse me with a story."
Zackary had opened his mouth to respond, deeming it fruitless to let his voice start with a repeat of his previous sentence. “Oh. Well that’s what happens when you do that type of stuff, I guess,” He sighed softly, rubbing his thumbs on the cup he was holding. He couldn’t bring himself to meet her intense gaze, keeping his snuffed out, tired one on his cup as the waves of steam split at his sharp nose.
“I don’t have a lot of stories worth telling. Not much at all. If I do, they don’t really end well.”
"That's alright." Melody gave an empathetic smile. "I've been told that my stories are too peachy and unrealistic, which sucks since I've wanted to be a writer for my entire life. Give it a go, and I'll help if you'd like." Melody's index finger rubbed against the cheap marble, whether she realized it or not, as if her mind had already been tuned into a song that only she could hear. Her smile glistened with the heart of an intense rhythm, one that her finger slowly began to dance to.
Zackary rubbed the back of his head, looking mildly confused and exhausted. This woman was very enthusiastic per say. The enthusiasm was quite tiring to Zackary’s addled mind.
“But how would you help me write a true story? It’s probably not fiction.” I hope it’s not…
“Hey, good writers have to flexible. Give it a go.”
“Give it a go…” Zackary repeated with a soft sigh. “Alright. Um… do I use a story that I went through and you provide the fictonality? Orrrr….” He left the question on hold, raising his eyebrows.
Melody shrugged lazily, a layer of glistening sleepiness in her eyes. “Surprise me, man.”
“I don’t do surprises,” Zackary said with a dull sigh. “I only do lazy college student. Which do you want?”
Melody pouted. "Writers do not make excuses either. But, since you're a beginner, do what you're best at."
“I’m not a writer. I’m an illustrator.” He rolled his eyes and sipped at his drink again. “Is there another way I can tell you about myself that doesn’t involve fiction?”
Something in Melody's eyes said that she was ready to throw both the chair that Zack currently sat on and herself.
"Dude, tell me literally anything. I haven't sat this long without doing anything in three years. And the last time I did it it was because I was in a coma. I need to hear ANYTHING."
“Well that’s a little mean, isn’t it? A bit of a hyperbole too, don’t you think? Comas usually last years, especially if they’re pushed into the vegetative state. So…. um… anyway, let me think. Okay?” Zackary couldn’t help getting somewhat defense at the look in her eye.
"Er- I don't really want to talk about my coma-," she hastily changed the topic. "Hey, what do you wanna do in life? We could start there, you know."
Zackary straightfaced and nodded a little, shrugging. “I’m not sure. I’m going to college to be a meteorologist, but I don’t know where that’s going to take me. What about you?”
"Mm, I gave up on college a long time ago. It kinda sucks, cuz I used to be really good at school. But my mom convinced me along the way that I wasn't capable of doing anything right, so after a while I started believing in it myself. This my friend's uncle's cafe, actually, and I'm just working here until I publish my first book. If it sells really well, then i'm hoping that I can start writing full- time!" Melody grew a starry expression, as if a part of her was already living in her fantasy- world.