Harold

FINALLY! I couldn't be happier, I finally had reached the front of the line. For a cup of coffee from Starbucks.

I was so sick of all the damn tea these english folks drank. I mean seriously, how do they do it?

"Erm, I'll have a grande vanilla soy latte sugar free please." I ordered to the barista, embarassed at the semi complicated order. He glanced up with a pained look seeping through his eyes while he mumbled under his breath as I payed for my drink.

I looked for a place to sit as I waited for my drink to be bellowed over the relaxing voice of Norah Jones and the mumbles of folks with their drinks in hand nibbling at their pastries and such.

I checked my phone to see the time, 9:46. I looked up to see if they were anywhere close to being done with my drink. Not even close. There were still at least seven people waiting that were there before me.

I wanted to get up and scream about the bullshit service they were running, but decided against it considering I had my first day on the job at 11:30. I had finally found a job that spiked my interest. A hair stylist for some small time band I was guessing. But it didn't matter who they were, it mattered that I was going to be able to finally do what I love.

As I started to drift away into a pointless daydream, I heard screaming outside the cafe. Not just one scream, but masses upon masses. It seemed to get louder and louder. I stood up to catch a glimpse, thinking maybe there was a fight or an accident. But nothing seemed to be happening, just loads of girls screaming trying to look through the windows as a bulky man prevented them from coming through the doors. What the hell?

I looked around the store to see if there were any celebreties I recognized. Nobody, everyone seemed to be completely normal.

"One grande vanilla soy latte sugar free!" the barista shouted over the screaming girls, looking around. I quickly walked over to get my drink, forgetting to put the cup in the coaster, I burned my hand like the idiot i was. I put the cup in the coaster and walked back to my seat. After taking a sip and burning myself yet again, I reached down to my bag to pull my out my Mac so I could check my emails.

Scrolling through the junk from the countless clothing stores I had subscribed to, I came across an email from Modest Managament, the people who managed the band I would soon be working for.

They said they needed to talk to me before I met the boys and started working. Also, that I would need to fill out some paperwork about keeping full disclosure to them and some other bullshit about the "privacy of the band". Whatever that meant.

I took another sip of the still steaming coffee, and scrolled down to find four emails from my mom about how the family was doing and how it was back home in California.

Everything seemed to be going well. I was just glad I wasnt there anymore. I couldn't stand the sun any longer, or the people, or the history there. So I decided to move to Manchester, England.

The lack of sun, and quaint towns surrounding the large cities made the perfect combination for my home away from home. Looking through the emails, I had completely blocked out the screaming that was still coming from outside. I packed my things, and gulped the last of my coffee as I threw it in the trash and started to walk torwards the door.

As I did, the girls split and started running around both corners of the store. Maybe the person they were following went behind the building? I took this as my chance to make a run for it out the doors and as I did, it felt as if I had run into a brick wall. I looked up confused as the whipping breeze stung my face.

As I looked up I looked straight into a pair of alluring green eyes. The boy was tall with brown curly hair sticking out from underneath a grey beanie.