Pierce

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It all happened three years ago. I moved to New York the year before, after graduating in literature, to occupy a position as an advertisement section writer for a traveling magazine. As a young, unemployed, broke and eager to start a career profesional I took the job. It seemed like the grown up decision at the time but I quickly understood that I couldn't do something I disliked so deeply just because I needed money. What happened next was me quitting, followed by an anxiety attack and taking the first job I could find just to pay rent. I decided the focus should be on my writing, my true passion, and the decision remains. 

After a couple of weeks searching, I found a job as a waitress at a diner. It wasn't much! Actually, it was just enough to cover my expenses and despite the lousy night shift, it gave me time to write during the day... so I thought. Three months passed. Between serving burgers and trying to recover from the graveyard hours I had written exactly two chapters and no clue of how to star the third. 

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It was a Thursday, I spent half the morning sitting at the diner's counter, just trying to figure out how to introduce a chapter about the influence of growing up in your personality and every day actions. Of course, when you are 23 and maturity isn't your best quality that might be a little dificult. I see that now, but back in the day, with an inside perspective it was hard to put my finger on what was missing. Finally, I decided to take a break and ask for some food.

- How's it going over there? – asked Jenna with a southern accent as I approached the grey marvel counter. Jenna Mellbourne was my only friend in New York. We met during my first days at the diner and she was the one that actually took the time to explain me how things worked around there. Without her I would have probably been fired after only a few hours. We bounded instantly. I think it might have something to do with the mixture between her sassy personality and my corky ways, it just blends well!

- Slowly and painfully. – I replied. – Never thought it would be easy but I've been working on this chapter for weeks and I still don't know how to start. 

- That's because you are too hard on yourself. Take a break! – She said while poring some coffee into the cup.

- And some nachos?

- Sure, baby, coming right up! - She winked at me and walked into the kitchen to place the order.

I stood there, drinking my beverage, playing the words in my mind. I had to make it click somehow. They say "write about what you know" and back then, I was sure I knew. I looked at the open notebook in front of me thinking of the words I'd written the night before whilst doing research in a self help psycology book: "Old rules no longer apply. Leave your old life behind and make a new line of progress." That idea didn't made sense to me. To be fair, being an adult didn't made sense to me. I was suppose to understand, to know what to do, but I was strugling like never before. Money wasn't enough (and I forgot to pay rent and bills on time... a lot), my job was litteraly on the other side of spectrum of what I imagined, and I couldn't figure out a way to turn it arround other than applying for that open vacancy at Starbucks which would take me more time from the writting I wans't doing. 

-Tough day? – The deep voice came from nowhere and pulled me from my thoughts. When I turned around I saw a handsome man, tall with grayish hair and blue eyes, probably in his late forties. The first thing I noticed about him was his cologne: a strong smell but pleasant. A mixture between bourbon, pine and cinnamon leaves.

- Sorry? - I asked still coming down from my head.

- I apologise for interrupting - He looked at me hesitant, considering if he should ask the next question, and the he decided -  What can possibly be so worring at your age to make your so concentrated?

- Oh, so people my age don't get to have problems? You know how much living costs in this city? Not to mention the absence of my career, being behind on my 5 year plan and still have to pretend everything is ok to mom when she calls me asking if it is time for me to go back home already. So no, there is nothing to worry about at my age, peaches and rose petals all the way. - I exploded into a mixture of rage and sarcasm. My face turned red, my nostrils moved at the passe of my fast beating heart and heat started emaning from my skin.

He laughed. A smooth sound connecting perfectly with is figure and pose - I was wrong! Seems people your age have a lot more concerns than they did back in my day. 

- 'Guess its been a while, huh?– I said using the left-over anger and fresh amusement. The guy was starting to grow on me.

Jenna came out of the kitchen with my nachos, placed them on the counter and blinked at me, meaning she added extra cheese. I took a bite of my food and instantly felt the spice spreading though my tong and throat, it was Paco's shift. I decided to distract myself from what was going on inside my body.

- So, you just have a habit of interrupting people while they were eating? – I turned to face the men next to me while I grabbed another bite.

- You weren't eating. And I am always looking for some new material, so why not use what's arround me?

- What?! – I tried to hide the surprise in my voice but failed completely. - New material?! What do you think I am? Some kind of whore for your pimp show?

He snorted at my reaction and continued – I am an author. I take inspiration in the environment around me to create my caracters and my stories. 

My face turned red, my heart raced and goose bumps formed all over my body. "He is a published author? Could it be?".

- I'm Thomas Pierce, by the way. - He said offering a hand shake.

- Allegra...Greene.