Dear Reader

Midnights

It was 11:36pm.

It had been a long day.

I had meeting after meeting about this new album that I had not even wrote yet.

The record label was pushing me for a release date, for a theme, anything.

But I had nothing to give.

Jack and I had been in the studio most of the summer, but everything we wrote and produced just sounded shit.

It was nothing that I would ever play in front of my family let alone release on an album to the public.

Jack said I was just being hard on myself.

The truth was I was uninspired.

During Covid I had been in my hippy folk phase, prior to that, I thought I had been in love, that turned out to be a pile of shit.

Now I was just me.

I felt like I was 15 again and writing my first album.

Maybe I need to go back to Country music.

I remembered my semi-fake southern accent and shivered.

Yeah, let's not do that again.

I should probably head home but I wasn't tired.

I decided to head to a coffee shop just two blocks away from my apartment in New York.

I had been been meaning to try it for the longest time. It looked super cool, hip and semi hippy-esq. It seemed like my kind of place.

I pulled my phone up to check what time it was open until.

My eyes widened when I saw that the opening times said 24 hours.

Even better.

I pulled my coat around my body tightly and made my way there.

I arrived at the glass front window and slowed to almost a stop to look inside.

There was a few people in there, the lighting was low and I could see a man with a guitar on a small stage in the front.

I opened the door and heard the small jingle of a bell and looked up.

How cool I thought.

It was the right mix of old timely chic and the vibe was calm and chill. No one even turned to look at who entered.

I went unnoticed.

Perfect.

I walked to the Counter and there behind one of the coffee machine's was a woman with blue hair and a black beret.

I haven't had a beret phase yet.

I titled my head and took in her appearance.

Black beret, black shirt, black ripped jeans, black dr martens and that electric blue hair.

It was a look she wore well.

I could never pull it off.

"I will be just one second" she spoke from behind the machine and I watched the rising steam blur her vision from me.

"Take your time" I croaked and cleared my voice.

This lack of sleep was catching up on me.

I watched as she meticulously made what I assumed was a latte.

She poured it perfectly into a cup and even made a little leaf on the top and placed it down onto the waiting tray.

"Table 23 is up Clarice" she spoke and out from behind a door at the back of a counter was a woman with half a shaved head, and the hair she did have was bright red.