Give Me A Shot To Remember
Chapter:1
*Alex’s POV* - Written by me
I awkwardly kicked the empty can across the cracked pavement. It was 5 pm and like usual I was just getting off of work and heading to the local coffee shop. When I opened the doors to the “Blue Bottle Café” the smells of fresh muffins and mocha struck me. It was a warm and inviting smell, somehow it reminded me of home, which wasn’t a good thing. I placed my order for a tall mocha latte and sat at the small, shaky green table in the corner of the room, so no one could see me.
It was strange I had gone here everyday for at least 2 months and no ones name seemed to stick in my head…who was I kidding moving to the city after graduating from a small school in Connecticut? I was practically in a form of culture shock, how the hell was I supposed to manage college, my job, and having a social life? My parents were right; I would never amount to anything.
I slowly finished my drink dreading going back to my lonely apartment, when an attractive man with black shaggy hair entered the shop. There was something about him that made me think, I could get through this.
Gerard POV- Written by this is why I'm hot. (A friend on INO)
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I briefly scanned the café as I entered. Crowded. Normally I would have preferred one of my regular haunts, like my house, or…Nevermind.
I had a craving for coffee, and that’s all that mattered right now.
I reached into my black coat pocket for my wallet as I stepped up to the counter, looking up at the menu board. Skinny machiatto? Orange Crème Mocha Frappichino? Iced Chai Latte?
No, I wouldn’t look gay ordering one of those, I thought sarcastically.
“Can I help you?” asked the small blonde behind the counter.
“Uh…Just a regular coffee,” I said. “Please.”
“2.50.”
I peeled apart three bills, and handed them to her in exchange for a frothing styrofoam cup of hot coffee.
“Thanks,” I said, and she gave a polite, fake smile.
I grabbed four packets of Splenda from the tray on the other end of the counter, and turned, looking for a place to sit. Not that I had much of a choice; there was only one empty chair, at a small table in the back corner.
I made my way over, flashing the young woman who was sipping at her drink a smile. “Excuse me,” I said. “Is anyone sitting here?” I gestured toward the empty seat next to her.
I awkwardly kicked the empty can across the cracked pavement. It was 5 pm and like usual I was just getting off of work and heading to the local coffee shop. When I opened the doors to the “Blue Bottle Café” the smells of fresh muffins and mocha struck me. It was a warm and inviting smell, somehow it reminded me of home, which wasn’t a good thing. I placed my order for a tall mocha latte and sat at the small, shaky green table in the corner of the room, so no one could see me.
It was strange I had gone here everyday for at least 2 months and no ones name seemed to stick in my head…who was I kidding moving to the city after graduating from a small school in Connecticut? I was practically in a form of culture shock, how the hell was I supposed to manage college, my job, and having a social life? My parents were right; I would never amount to anything.
I slowly finished my drink dreading going back to my lonely apartment, when an attractive man with black shaggy hair entered the shop. There was something about him that made me think, I could get through this.
Gerard POV- Written by this is why I'm hot. (A friend on INO)
-------------------
I briefly scanned the café as I entered. Crowded. Normally I would have preferred one of my regular haunts, like my house, or…Nevermind.
I had a craving for coffee, and that’s all that mattered right now.
I reached into my black coat pocket for my wallet as I stepped up to the counter, looking up at the menu board. Skinny machiatto? Orange Crème Mocha Frappichino? Iced Chai Latte?
No, I wouldn’t look gay ordering one of those, I thought sarcastically.
“Can I help you?” asked the small blonde behind the counter.
“Uh…Just a regular coffee,” I said. “Please.”
“2.50.”
I peeled apart three bills, and handed them to her in exchange for a frothing styrofoam cup of hot coffee.
“Thanks,” I said, and she gave a polite, fake smile.
I grabbed four packets of Splenda from the tray on the other end of the counter, and turned, looking for a place to sit. Not that I had much of a choice; there was only one empty chair, at a small table in the back corner.
I made my way over, flashing the young woman who was sipping at her drink a smile. “Excuse me,” I said. “Is anyone sitting here?” I gestured toward the empty seat next to her.