Her Sunshine

Chapter 2: Soft

I drove home, it was about 11:00 PM and I finally made it back to the city.
My father lived out in some rich neighborhood yet still in the middle of nowhere. He refused to socialize with "heathens"- as he called the general public.
Despite my hatred for him, I sorta looked like him when he was in his prime. I was extremely tall, slim and dark haired. I resembled my mother as well, I had her freckles, long thin nose and pale green eyes. He hated to look at my face, I could tell by the way he never made any eye contact.

I glanced down at my watch and decided to go to the local diner. Coffee never hurt anyone.
I parked my car and locked the car, I tapped the button twice just to make sure. This was the type of neighborhood my father talked about when he was worried about getting robbed.
I stuffed my keys and wallet into my pocket and headed inside.

A mellow jazz tune was playing and there seemed to be only three people working.
"Good evening." A waitress greeted me. "Table for two?"
"Ah, I just need a table for one." I shrugged.
She led me to a bar.
I could use a drink... I thought to myself.
"Thanks." I sat down and rested my head on my hand. It was already a long day. Spring was quickly ending. April was pushing its way through, I had only a few days left in March.
I had marched over the hill of Finals Week. Yet my father demanded more... More internship. Whatever would I do?
Similar to my father, I had picked up his nasty habit of avoiding people. Best friends had attended separate colleges, partied too much or forgot me.
"What would you like to drink?" She smiled at me. It had been a long time since I had seen someone genuine.
Her smile isn't genuine... We are in business and we know how that goes. I thought to myself.
"I would like a coffee." I sighed.
"Alright. I'll go and get you a cup." She had some sort of charm to her.
My mind drifted off back to what I was thinking about. My father...
Hate boiled up inside me.

Idiot.
Dickhead.
Manwhore.

I thought of him so bitterly. It wasn't a nice bitter- it was hatred that seethed, boiled over and left a tacky residue. It stayed and never budged despite all my efforts to rid of it.
"Here's your coffee, sir." She set it down on the table. "Any sugar? Cream?"
"No." I shook my head.
"Enjoy." She left.
I glanced at the people here, working graveyard and tending to lonely strangers like myself.
How desperate and sad it would be to have to be in their position.
That was the thing I was most thankful for, my father's money.
He didn't offer love, support or any feedback but he did provide money. I would always be under his thumb. Forever.

Forever.
And ever.
And ever.
Like mom.
Unhappy, forgotten and left behind.
Tending to his every whine and need.
Until I die.

I took a sip of coffee. It wasn't piping hot but I didn't care. The taste was fine, it wasn't watered down.
The cup was plain, yellow and short. It had nothing uber fancy about it, just a standard cup. Yet it was pretty, the shine of it made it stand out against the black and white tiles.
It was nice, cozy in this small diner. The bright lights shine upon an old newspaper.
It had been ages since I had read anything that wasn't digital. I fiddled with its pages.

March 22nd, 2018.
"Local Man Dies From Hit And Run"

Nice. The first thing I get to see is a story about a guy getting ran over.

March 22nd, 2018
Music Festival Preparations

Why would they write about something that's three weeks away? That's such a boring topic. Music hadn't really peaked my interest. I wasn't any good, I struggled with grasping the concept and how to even play my stupid clarinet.
I finished my coffee, gulping it down and quietly setting it down.
"Need another one?" The waitress asked me politely.
"Eh. I'm headed out anyways. Can you just get me the bill?" I huffed.
"Sure." She headed back to the register. "It's two dollars, sir."
"Mm." I had dug out a five and set it on the counter. I contemplated asking for my change back. I looked at her and then looked at my car keys.
Misery. Complete misery to work in here at midnight...
Desperate, too.
"Keep the change." I slid it forward and started to head for the door.
"Thank you." She politely opened the door for me.
I walked back to my car and drove home.