(3) Not the Same: An All Time Low Fanfiction Romance

Chapter 1: Stella (Lauren's POV)

My hair fell in my face, dark brown bangs dangling in front of my eyes while I let out an exasperated sigh. I moved my fingers against the granite counter of the coffee shop, an ugly off white rag in my hands. Some teenager thought it would be a lovely idea to put his skate board next to the register while he ordered, leaving a nice black scuff mark on the white stone, that I was now in charge of getting rid of. Who puts their skate board on a counter anyway?

I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, feeling how warm it actually was. The air conditioners were acting up, making it stuffy and uncomfortable. Being hot made me flustered, especially when there was no way to escape it. I couldn't just get up and leave work, so I had to endure the early evening warmth impatiently. I was itching to leave my shift in forty mintues when the clock struck seven to go to the library and start studying once again.

There had only been four customers in the last hour, including the two businessmen sitting in the corner of the shopn ear the window. Both had rigid professional postures as they sipped their expensive coffee and spoke to each other quietly with their laptops propped open in front of them.

The coffee makers were cooling, barely touched in the passing time. I was the only one working, my boss knowing we barely got more than a dozen customers at this time of day, left me to finish and close. This might surprise people in such a massive city like Los Angeles, but it was just the way business worked. The light chatter of the two middle-aged men at the front was barely audible, and the scrubbing noise from my cleaning made it easy to listen to the background noises of the shop that many people didn't notice. I could hear the light humming that came from the speakers that surrounded the store, playing soft rock music that I couldn't complain about.

The bell above the door signaled at the store, indicating a customer. I could hear the hustle and bustle of the LA streets for a moment; the honking of cars and an abundance of voices from citizens and tourists alike walking down the sidewalks. As I waited for the door to swing shut, the sound track to the city subsided, like someone hit the mute button on a television.

I didn't bother looking up, unable to tear my eye away from the black smudge I was determined to get off the counter. I bit the inside of my cheek in frustration, annoyed at the fact that it wasn't fading as fast as I wanted it to. I let out a small breath, finally picking up the cleaning supplies fromt he counter and moving them to the side. I could see the figures of a customer stnading there from the corner of my eyes. I ran my fingers through my hair and rubbed my hands over my eyes while I spoke.

"Welcome to Stabucks, how may I help you?" I asked with a deflated voice, feeling exhausted with the work day. Why couldn't it just be over already?

"Can I have a Vanilla Créme Frappuccion?" I flipped my hair over my head, face flushed with irritation as I finally met eyes with a strangely familiar looking face. It almost took half a second to finally comprehend the person in front of me, blinking a few times in disbelief.

There was a petite girl standing there, mouth falling open the same way mine was. She looked nearly the same since the last time I'd seen her, four years ago -- maybe even five. I could barely remember anymore. It didn't matter how long because I was stunned to see her after all this time.

Her hair was the sae, long bangs sweeping across her forehead, and the natural curls to her lengthy, almost black locks spiraled past her shoulders. Her skin was tan, something she could never do when we kne each other in high school. Her tan lines were hidden under her dark gray, draping sleeveless tank top. It hung loosely off her arms, revealing a plum tank top underneath. Expensive Ray Ban sunglasses sat on the brim of her nose. If I didn't know her so well before, I wouldn't have realized it was her. The fashionable skinny jeans and black heels with red soles almost made me question if it really was one of my oldest friends under there, if it was really Stella.