A Fool's Coming

Ch. 5 - Brewing Trouble

As I walked through the bustling streets of the District, my mind wandered to Ares and the dangerous path I had unknowingly embarked upon.

The weight of the world seemed to settle on my shoulders, squeezing the air out of my lungs. And then, like a bolt of lightning, my thoughts shifted to Sally.

Memories flashed before my eyes, like a horror movie I couldn't escape from.

I think of all the horrible encounters I've had with her, like when she beat me with a broom until I could nearly breath. But there's also some good moments, like last night.

Is it even worth it? I think, frowning, doesn't really matter. It's not like I could leave her without getting a bullet in my skull.

I shook my head, trying to banish those haunting images. I needed a distraction, something to ease my troubled mind.

That's when I noticed a new coffee shop on the corner of the street—Extra Expresso. Its neon sign beckoned to me, promising temporary solace from the chaos of my life.

With a hesitant step, I pushed the door open and entered the warm sanctuary of the coffee shop. The scent of freshly brewed coffee enveloped me, filling my senses with a much-needed comfort.

My eyes scanned the room until they landed on the cashier - a blond boy with an orange apron, boredom etched into his features.

When our eyes met, the boy's gaze narrowed, immediately sizing me up as if I were a contestant in some twisted reality show. His judgmental stare sent a wave of frustration coursing through me, but I swallowed my pride and approached the counter, trying to stay calm.

"I'd like a black coffee, please," I said, mustering as much politeness as I could.

The boy's lips curled up into a smirk, clearly amused by my simple request. "Black coffee, huh? You're a brave one. But hey, to each their own. No judgments here!" His tone was annoying and conceited, as if he were the arbiter of all things coffee.

I could feel my temper start to rise, but I clenched my fists, determined to keep my cool. He's just a kid. "Just make the coffee, please." I forced a smile, knowing that arguing would only attract unnecessary attention.

The cashier chuckled, shaking his head in mock pity. "You know, most people can't handle black coffee. It's an acquired taste, you know?"

I took a deep breath, focusing my energy on not lashing out at this annoying teenager. "I know what I like. Just give me the damn coffee," I replied, my voice wavering slightly.

He shrugged, lazily punching my order into the cash register. "Fine, fine. Your caffeine overdose will be ready in a minute. Don't go too crazy, brunette," he taunted, his words laced with condescension.

I felt my patience wearing thin, but I managed to hold myself together until my coffee was placed on the counter. As I reached out to grab it, I couldn't help but let a snarky comment slip from my mouth. "Well, I assume a weakling like you wouldn't understand the significance of a strong cup of coffee."

His eyes widened in surprise, momentarily caught off guard by my response. But before he could retort, I turned on my heels and hastily made my way to a secluded corner of the shop.

Sinking into the plush armchair, I took a sip of the scorching hot black coffee. Its bitter warmth spread through my body, electrifying my senses. The taste was bold, just like the choices I had made in the past few days.

As I savored the coffee, I allowed my thoughts to drift away from the troublesome events that had unfolded. My eyes scanned the room, observing the patrons lost in their own little worlds. The chatter of conversations filled the air, creating a symphony of mundane noise.