Sunspots

“Fuck!” Eve Sands whispered to herself miserably as she climbed out of the window and wrapped her arms around herself tightly. She looked back at the window, longingly. “I can't even kill myself properly...” she mumbled under her breath before closing the window and retreating to her bed.

“Why am I here? It can't be my life's density to serve overpriced food to jerks my whole life!” Eve knew she was lucky in many ways, but being an miserable artist wasn't as romantic as it sounded.. She never actually went through with anything, she just tried to.She didn't want to die, she just felt like a waste. Eve knew she had more to offer than being a waitress. Yet on nights like this she would cry herself to sleep and than she was off to work in the morning pretending to smile.

Eve had dreams of becoming an artist, but living in New York, art capital of the U.S. It was nearly impossible to get noticed. Maybe if she killed herself a few years after her death she'd get famous like so many other artists. She even sometimes entertained the thought of finding a mate and breeding, but after twenty-three years and only one date- that dream didn't seem like it would ever come true either. So she spent her happiest days in a daze, not dreaming of something better, not thinking about tomorrow when she'd just do exactly the same thing again and again until she died.

Trevor Moore cursed under his breath as he read the text message Candice had sent him.

'Sry I cnt come c u. b 2 werid.'

He frowned and let out an annoyed groan before whispering,
“What's weird is the only two words she actually took the time to spell out were come and weird....” He frowned and considered replying with that, but than thought better of it. Candice never could tell when he was joking, or when he wasn't. In some ways he guessed it was better that she turned him down. I had been only a year since they called off the wedding, his feelings were like a really bad fart that was slowly fading from the air, but still seemed to linger.

Trevor turned off his phone and looked up from the table he was currently sitting at, and looked around for Sam. He had told him to come and met him at the cafe an hour ago...but again, Trevor wasn't surprised, Sam was never on time.

While he scanned the other tables for Sam's face, Trevor couldn't help but double take on the waitress just coming on shift-he could tell as she tied the black apron around her waist- she had an eyebrow pricing and two tattoos visible. It wasn't like the alternative look was new to him, living in New York he saw Punks and Goths everyday- it was the fact she was working at the cafe. It was an upper class kind of vibe, with all the tables being outside in the courtyard garden thing and all the food being over ten dollars. She looked like the one black dot on a white and gray piece of paper. He watched her take the orders of two elderly people to his left who looked just as confused as he was.

Eve returned from the kitchens after putting in her first orders of the day and returned to table 21 carrying ice teas. Her eyes met with a very tall man in a blue sweatshirt with longish brown hair and hazel eyes. He looked familiar and she tried for a moment to place him in her memory but her train of thought was interrupted by a voice,

“Excuse me miss, but I'm looking for a friend? He should have been here a while ago, I'm very late.” The man who spoke was just a few inches taller than her with a hairy sort of look to him. He wore glass but again, Eve felt like she'd seen him before- than it clicked. The Whitest Kids U Know! This was Sam and it was Trevor over behind her at table 25.

“Um...yes I think there's a gentleman over here who's been waiting to order...” She turned towards table 25 and Sam followed her through the maze of white metal chairs and tables.

Trevor saw the Goth chick approaching with Sam behind her. He was able to get a better look at the girl-she had a rocking body, strong, Lucy Lawless kind of body. Normally Trevor found the Goth look kind of stupid and none-flattering, but something about the fact she had her thick, black eyeliner applied skilfully rather than like bad Halloween makeup, made the look work on her. He could do without the eyebrow pricing although it wasn't unsightly. Over all, he supposed her look worked for her in the sense normally she'd just be a attractive girl with a good body-like the other waitress there- she stood out and therefore he noticed her.

“Sam, you cocksucker, where's the damn script? I'd much rather be doing other things today other than going over this again!” Trevor's eyes shifted to the girl still standing there. Sam took the opposite chair and pulled a wrinkled rolled up script from his jacket.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it here. Sorry it's just I know that you don't like the baby-eating stench as it is, anymore than I do.” Sam handed the script to Trevor and turned to look up at the waitress. “Can I get a rum and coke please?”

“Sure, will that be all?” He nodded as she jolted down the drink on her pad. “Would you like something?” She addressed Trevor, he gave her an odd expression, like she was asking him to donate blood or something.

“No, no thank you.” He paused and seemed to be done, so Eve began to turn around as Trevor suddenly spoke out to her again, “Look I have to ask you...” Eve turned back and raised a pierced eyebrow. “...How the hell did you get this job looking like Wednesday Adams?” Eve wasn't sure if she should respond by telling him to fuck off or if she just walk away.

“Wow, just because you're famous doesn't mean you have the right to be rude to people.” She spat out calmly before turning on her combat boots and heading for the bar. Trevor realized what a dick he'd been by letting his curiosity get the best of him.

“Dude, why were you such a dick? She was hot!” Sam whispered under his breath. Trevor sighed and looked after the Goth waitress.

“Yeah, I'll say I'm sorry when she comes back...so about the script...do you have another copy because this thing isn't even readable.” Trevor looked over the mess of ink and varies food stains.

“I lost my copy and had to borrow that one from Timmy, so no...and yeah it's pretty gross.” Sam agreed, Trevor frowned.

“I thought it might have been his, well I guess we have to just riddle out what each word is, we wrote it so it shouldn't be that hard to fill in the blanks...”

Eve wasn't really that angry about what Trevor said, she was just tried of people she started out being slightly attracted to, turn out to be complete assholes. Returning to the table she gave Sam his drink, he thanked her kindly and Eve noticed Trevor looking up at her from the corner of her eye.

“Um, hey scary waitress lady...sorry about the douchie comment. I'm sure you're frightening appearance has nothing to do with your service.” Eve's eyes widened in disbelief, she supposed she shouldn't be surprised this was what he was like in reality. Not far off from the crazy characters he portrays on the show. Between the scary lady's expression and Sam's, he quickly realized he'd just dug the hole deeper. He was considering asking her for her number, now she probably wouldn't even give him her name.

“You know what, if that's as good of an apology you can give than I guess I'll take it. You must have been beaten up a lot because you don't take anything seriously.” Trevor was shocked by her response, maybe he could still squeeze a date out of this. More he saw of her, more he liked her. Sam laughed,

“It's like she knows you man,” Trevor gave him a glare before looking back up at the girl.

“Yeah it's fair to say I have a hard time taking things seriously...But can I seriously ask for your name and number?” Sam howled with laughter. Eve was confused and it took her a few moments to realize what he just asked.

“You're not serious...” Eve couldn't help but say. Sam continued to laugh, Trevor wondered how he could let her know he wasn't joking.

“I just said, I was serious and although even when I say I am serious sometimes I can actually not be serious at all....I can also be very serious about things to,” Sam was trying to breath in between his bursts of laughter at Trevor's fail to impress or humor Eve.

“Ah, okay well, my name is Eve Sands and I'm an lesbian so...” she shrugged her shoulders, “I don't date dicks.” Sam's laughter reached new levels of irritating as Trevor started to get annoyed.

“Hey, I apologized....you're not even a real lesbian, are you? That was just a really good burn...” He pulled a pout and hoped that would score him some points. Eve just kept surprising him. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, he was pretty cute, and he'd made her laugh until she cried before on his show...so she deiced to throw him a bone.

“I couldn't let the opportunity pass me by, but you're right I'm not a lesbian and I'll give you my number if you promise me something...” Trevor was slightly afraid to ask her.
“...Promise that you'll leave me a good tip because by standing here, chatty away I've just lost these round of costumers.” He blinked and quickly nodded.

“Sure, sure, sounds fair...whats your number?” he whipped out his phone and added her number in his 'potential dates' contact list. It was a rather small list considering Trevor's successful comedic career. Eve walked away, saying goodbye to both men before turning back to them and saying with a smile,

“It's Saturday!” and than turned away and got back to work. They glanced at each other, trying to figure out what she meant when they realized at the same time what she was quoting.

“So she knows who we are, that's interesting that Goths like the show.” Sam mused before sipping his drink. Trevor shook his head.

“Maybe she's the only one...it's wrong to group one minority of people into a stereotype based on their appearance....Goths aren't like black people you know.” Trevor joked, Sam picked up the pen.

“Hey! That's a good line to use...” They proceeded to actually go over the work and come up with some new ideas. Although all the while Trevor kept looking over to make eye-contact with Eve.