Notes On A Coffee CupMuse A frequents a coffee shop every day after school/work, Muse B works as a barista there. Muse Aalways sits at the same table by the window, in plain-sight of the counter, preoccupied with a book or their laptop. Muse B can’t help but notice Muse A and admire them from afar. Too shy to go up and talk to Muse Aat their table, Muse B finds another way to make an impression. Muse B begins to write nice messages on Muse A’s coffee cups, gradually getting a little bolder each day. “Have a nice night.” “That must be a good book.” “You look nice today.” “You have a cute smile.” Usually, by the time Muse A notices these little notes, Muse B has switched shifts with someone else. One afternoon, Muse A comes in and orders their usual from Muse B. When the order is ready, Muse A makes sure to read the note right away. This time, the message reads: “Would you like to go out with me?"
name: caleb brown age: eighteen-years-old gender: masculine appearance:
Caleb Brown would usually tell his customers that he was working to get a new car, like any working teenage boy, but he refused to tell anyone the real reason why he started working; he’s been working the same place for the past three-years, a local Starbucks where most of the baristas were either blonde haired, blue-eyed females, or eccentric homosexual males who had nothing better to do then sit and serve shitty, boring, flirtatious customers who could really care less about what’s going on in your life. Caleb sighed softly as he leaned forward against the counter, he didn’t understand why his boss always asked him to be here early in the mornings; it was always boring, barely anyone came into the shop at any time of day, there were few that frequented the shop: one was an old couple who’s been coming in for years according to the eldest worker, another was a young retired choreographer who broke his leg trying to teach a class a impossible dance move, then there was this young girl who came in to do her homework every afternoon, and a girl who was in collage and supposedly never slept, and then there’s the guy who sat in the corner on his laptop, reading books or magazines, or whatever. Heather, his co-worker, approached him and leaned against the counter beside him, “Hey, instead of staring at the poor guy, probably freaking him out, why not approach him and introduce yourself?” Heather suggested. Caleb jumped at the sound of her voice, resulting in him hitting his head on the counter when his arms moved, “Okay.. fuck off Hearher, no way I’m approaching him,” he mutters.
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