Just the Coffee Boy. Promise.

Who is Tommy Innit? Where is He?

Tommy did not need to be woken up. Ever. He was always on time for everything. He was on time for his job like every day.

Okay maybe every other day.

Okay not a single day this week, but he did not deserve to be woken up by his room mates screaming at him that he was going to be late.

A small, compared to such a big man as himself, man burst down his door yelling something about kicking him out.

Oh no, no no he definitely did not need to be kicked out he had lived on the streets for long enough. Tommy stood, brushed off Billzo, and went into the bathroom to do a good brushing through his hair. With his fingers, but he was still brushing it so that counted for something right.

-your WORTHLESS Tommy Innit, or Toms Simons, or Thomathy Soot? Who are you even Toms?

Tommy slipped a white and red baseball tee on and a pair of jeans that were a bit to large, which he fastened with a piece of twine.

He waved goodbye to Bill and closed the apartment door, he didn't need to hear anything the man said anyway. If it was really important he would text it.

Tommy hummed a bit as he narrowly avoided traffic in the 10 district. Honestly, the days of Tommy Innit were boring. Standard routine, go to work, come home, talk to Bill about bills (ha), and then sleep and repeat.

He stepped into the coffee shop in which he was welcomed with more yelling. Quickly, quicker than ever, the quickest, he tied his apron on and ran to the counter where he took Jack's spot. All at once a possy of bitches walked through the door. One looking particularly bitchy.

He wore an okay trench coat with TONS of patches, an atrocious sweater, coupled with the most rag tag beanie he's ever seen. And Tommy is poor as shit, he's worn his fair share of trash beanie's and this thing was beyond trash.

The rest were okay. One worn a poet's shirt with the most beautiful hair ever. Pinned back with two pristine white pins. The shortest wore a green sweater and a green striped bucket hat.

Not that any of them mattered compared to the absolute atrocity that was standing in front of him about to order coffee.

"Hi, what can I get you today."

"A cinnamon latte, black coffee, and green tea please." The atrocity smiled at him.

"Great what sizes?" Tommy rolled his eyes at him. Like who the fuck-

"Mediums for all thanks."

Tommy mumbled some insults, totaled them up and got started on their coffees. 

Tommy wrote on a coffee cup. He loved it when customers simply did not give him a name for their coffees, it meant he got to make up names.

"Coffee for Atrocious Fashion Sense, Old Man, and Pinkie!"

The guy with the yellow hoodie slowly stood and Tommy nodded smiling.

He stalked over glaring at Tommy. "Who do you think you are?"

Tommy let the smirk fall slightly, "Why I'm just a humble minimum wage worker. Whatever do you mean?"

"You little shit-"

"You little shit!-" A child giggled and ran away screeching from a slightly older child who was missing a distinguishing beanie from his head.

The older child collapsed to the ground panting, on the verge of tears if you asked his dad, but he would say that he was just "stewing in anger".

A small toddler with golden hair came to an abrupt halt and stumbled over to the older clutching a red beanie in his chubby fists.

He sloppily placed the beanie on the older's head, "Please don't do that again Toms."