Would You Look At The Time (Book One)

An exciting new twist

I was just a normal girl.

No one special or unique.

My life consisted of my three tedious jobs. Living in New York cost a lot of money and my selfishly rich parents would never help me get by.

I was on my own.

I worked at a cafe in the morning, a bookstore in the evening, and at night I worked at a popular bar. I was a quiet girl who had a thirst for adventure that I kept a secret from even my best friends (which was a small group of one). I would read when I had the chance and I had always been fond of Marvel. I loved Stan Lee and his cameos in each movie, his brilliance was something I looked up to.

His creativity.

I even read the comics when I was little. I guess I was even a fangirl as a kid, which is definitly not surprising. Out of all the different tales and incredible stories that Stan Lee created, the story of Captain America was always my favorite. And so when the movies started coming out I became obsessed, buying t-shirts ans backpacks, it was kind of intense. I collected all the films and watched then often. never getting sick of them. Sadly, I had to sell my vintage comics to get some money for college. It broke my heart when I sat with them outside my door and waited for people to approach me about buying them. I sold them for high prices, but each time I handed one of them to a stranger I could feel part of my childhood withering away.

It was horrible.

I woke up at 5am, the usual. I predicted it would be cold today so I pulled on black leggings and a white sweater. I pulled my hair into a loose bun and shoved my feet into my black vans. Then, I headed out to the cafe.

Rachel's cafe wasn't very popular, it was completely empty in the morning, which was somewhat nice for me.

The silence was chilling yet calming.

All I did during my shift was watch the small television that Rachel set up on the wall for the customers. Occasionally I would have to brew a coffee or toast a bagel for someone. This morning was not one of those days. During my entire 6 hour shift no one entered the store. So after Fiona, the only other employee, took over I left and headed to Starbucks. I needed a caramel frappe.

I admit, I sometimes embrace my inner white girl.

I headed to the bookstore while sipping at my sweet frappuccino. The bookstore was a lot more popular than the cafe and I was excited to be surrounded by books once more. Even if I wouldn't be reading them they brought a sort of comfort and warming feeling that I craved. Not to mention the smell.

Which was amazing.

I stood at the cash register occasionally sipping at my drink until someone would come up to me and ask for assistance or want to check out. An older woman stood in line and slowly approached my register.

"Hello, how are you this evening?" I asked politely.

"Good, how are you?" It was the usual exchange of words that two people made at the grocery store or anywhere public.

You wanted to seem nice, but you didn't really want to talk to them.

With my frappuccino empty and my four hour shift over I left the crowded bookstore with a slight headache.

A brain freeze.

I got to the bar a bit late and my boss, Mike, yelled at me. He screeched loudly like a squaking bird and everytine I nodded and looked down at my feet he would grab my shin and hold me with his gaze, fear creeping through my bones and causing them to rattle.