Ever After

Tough Times

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This chapter is in Mark's perspective.

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Working at the Coffee House truly was a luxury in comparison to other workplaces - of course, that only applied if the other workplaces were factories or mines. The Coffee House seemed the perfect place to outsiders, people who came in dressed in their daily wear rather than a uniform, just waiting to fit a sleeve around their cappuccino, while I, dressed in a uniform designed with coffee stains, just waited for the clock to ring at seven.

As I poured out a latte, I tried to fathom how I'd managed to waste my one hour's worth of homework time in between the end of school and the start of my afternoon shift with Jack, sitting in his living room while attacking some colossi. We, obviously, hadn't beaten the game (at my skill level, I'd be amazed to discover that we ever would), but we did happen to get past the fifth colossus, also defeating Jack's favourite colossus, namely Gaius. He just so happened to be my favourite, as well, but I didn't dare let Jack know for fear of being too eager, for seeming as if I were trying to find common interests between the two of us - I made things awkward enough as it was and definitely didn't need to ramp things up, for I didn't want to ruin things with Jack so easily.

Speaking of ruining things, just as the lady I'd been serving gave out a "Thank you" (in a gorgeous Irish accent) and received my casual "Have a good day," three people barged in, looking as if they wished to turn what'd been a good day bad. It was Will (one of Jack's old roommates), Killian, and Felix, who I swallowed at the sight of. He had a bright, purple bruise taking up nearly half of his face, one of his eyes covered by a cold cloth he held against it, his lips not quivering as to give off any sort of pain. They shuffled inward and came at the back of the line, soon coming to the front when I'd finished with the last customer before them.

"Hey," Killian said.

I swallowed again, feeling as if one of the packets of salt on the counter had been forced down my throat. I gave out the casual greeting, asking "How can I help you today?", to which he coolly responded:

"With this."

Before I could question what "this" was, he uplifted his cellphone (an iPhone Six, which I could only dream of one day taking the place of my dad's old Nokia) and took a photo of me, chuckling along with his buddies as they looked over it, zooming in playfully on my astonished face. He whipped the phone around, now showing me what it said, a look of pleasantry worn on his face, sending shivers down my only black t-shirt (my brother's, actually) that I was forced to use for my Coffee House uniform.

It was a horrid picture - any picture of me was horrid, but this was beyond that. My acne popped out of me like pepperoni on a pizza, my face greasier than a potato (or "spud"). It didn't help, either, that my name tag was the clearest thing in the shot, the main centre of attention, seeing as my flailing arms seemed to blur everything else out. Of course, of all the things that had to stand out the most, it had to be my embarrassing name tag, the one that said "Hi! My name is Mark, and I like my coffee dark!" I now wished that the Coffee House didn't customize name tags - they saw it as unique and delightful, but I now saw it as despicable and humiliating.

"Nice one!" Will said, patting Killian on the back. Although the pat seemed aggressive and hard, Killian was a solid rock implanted in the ground - no wonder Jack ran away from him after school.

Killian then looked up at me, his eyes glowing from the light source displayed below them. "It's a great photo, really. Should be shared with the whole school!"

I stuttered. "Um, I'd rather -"

He completely ignored me, turning to the bodyguards on his left and on his right. "What do you think, boys? Social media? Text message? Posters?"