Butterflies- A Michael Jackson story

"Work Work Work" - Chapter 20

Saga's POV

"How strange

to dream of you

Even when

I am wide awake"

D.J

Customer after customer. Coffee after coffee. That's what my day consists of. It's now 4pm, 2 hours left of work. They will go quickly I try telling myself. I hate this job. I really need to quit, or else I will get stuck here for the rest of my life. Making coffee is something I don't want to do my whole life.

The café is half full, a few people sitting scattered across the brown wooden tables in the café, all sipping on their coffees, eating their sandwiches with their friends or colleagues.

"Hello, I would like an espresso please" I hear someone say and I immediately turn to the woman standing at the counter.

"That's $3 please" I say politely. She quickly hands me the money and I start doing the coffee. When I'm finished I hand it over to her and she walks away up to an empty table.

I don't even know how I have put on with this work for so many years. Now that I have tasted what real fun is, hanging out with Michael Jackson. I know that i'm never going to be able to enjoy working here again.

I listen to the low music playing in the café, conveniently it's a song by The Beatles. Reminding me of the night I spent with Michael. What we talked about, how he looked, us singing together.

Suddenly I remember Julia and that guilty feeling comes back. I still haven't called her, I'm such a bad friend. She's literally the only friend I have and I treat her like shit. What will I ever do if she doesn't want to hang out with me anymore? I have to call Julia as soon as I get home, and hope for the best. That she forgives me, or else I will really be all alone. Well, maybe I can call Michael and ask him to hook me up with Robert. the thought making me smile.

I snort at my own thoughts, Michael will forget about me in a week. I was surprised that he even remembered me this night. He said that he would call me though, the thought of that makes me want to run home to my apartment and see if anyone has called. Deep down, I know that he won't call. No matter how great the night was, it was just a one time thing. I don't want to get my hopes up, because I know that if he won't call I will literally cry another whole day.

I'm so deep in thought that I don't realize another customer in front of me. I take the order, take the money, make the coffee. I'm like a robot. I could do this in my sleep. Think of the money, I tell myself.

An hour slowly passes, the café is almost empty by now. We never have that much customers, the café is located in a distant place of New York. There's not many by passers.

The door bell calls as someone walks inside the café. I try not to stare at the person walking in, but it's hard because of it's choice of clothes. The person's wearing a big black hat, sunglasses, brown big coat and loose blue jeans. The black beard almost reaching down to the man's chest. There's so many weird people in this city I think to myself as I try holding in a smile.

"Hello what can I get you?" I politely ask the man to get my thoughts off his clothes. He seems stressed somehow, his movements almost spasmodic.

He speaks with a low masculine voice "A coffee please"

"What kind of coffee sir?" I ask him while looking at him, a question that seems to confuse him.

"What kinds is there?"

"Well, espresso, latte, cappuccino, macchiato" I start while raising a eyebrow.

"Latte's fine" the man says

"That's $4 please" I say

"Keep the change" the man says as he hands me 10 dollars.

"Are you sure sir?" I say sounding doubtful. I sometimes get tips, but it's usually only one or two dollars, not 6. He nods and I start making the coffee.

The man clears his throat and speaks even lower than before, this time with a lighter voice "Don't you recognize me?" The question scares me a little. Why is this unknown man asking me if I recognize him? Should I?

"No?" I question him as I nervously drag my hands across my blue jeans.

"It's me, Michael" the man says.

"What, Really?" I say confusedly as I look closer at his face, making sure that it's really him.

I put the pieces together and start laughing. I thought I knew that soft voice. I bet I look really surprised as I hear Michael's signature giggle under the beard.

"What are you doing here?" I say a little too loud. It's difficult to keep my voice low since i'm so excited. He has't forgotten about me yet after all.

"I don't know, I had nothing to do" He giggles "Your shift ends at 6pm right?" He continues asking me

"Yes" I say confusedly

"Do you want to hang out after? I mean I can wait here" He says nodding to a table

"But it's an hour left?" I say

"I'll watch you work" He says, I can see his smirk from under the mustache.

The coffee is finished by now and I hand it over to him. He takes it, give me a last smile under his fake beard and sits down at a table close to a big window. I watch him closely as he sips on his coffee. He notice my glancing eyes and gives me a thumbs up, I can't help but smile at him.

Only Michael could look good in a black beard and big black hat. Now that I know that it's him I notice the things in his movements and in his face, that tells me that it's really him. No one else in the café seem to notice Michael sitting there though, and there's no paparazzi's to be found outside. I wonder how often he does things like this.

The last hour passes even slower that before, I constantly watch the clock. Eager to spend time alone with Michael. There comes a few more customers, I'm secretly annoyed at every single one. I feel Michael's stare as I take the orders and make the coffees, making my hands shake in nervousness. I can't work properly when I know that he's watching me.

I rip my apron off me as soon as the clock hits 6pm. Finally. I let my colleague Daisy take my spot as I almost run over to Michael. Him already standing, ready to leave the café.

"I'm so sorry, you really didn't need to wait" I excuse myself

"It's fine, let's go" He say calmly. It's hard to see if he's looking at me when he's wearing those black sunglasses. I first now notice that it's the same ones he wore this night. I want him to take them off, I want to see his beautiful brown eyes.

"Were are we going?" I ask him as we make our way to the front door.

He thinks for a few seconds before asking "Your apartment?".