Lights Up - Prinxiety [COMPLETED]

Chapter Two

My eyes flutter open to see a splotchy, unfamiliar ceiling. It took me a moment to realize where I was, remembering the events of the previous day. Arriving in New York, finding an apartment; this was my new life.

I let out a sigh as I reach up to rub my eyes. There was one thing I needed to do as quickly as possible after moving here. I needed a job. There was no way I'd be able to pay for the rent without a job for very long. Sure, I had some money left over from what I'd saved up, but this rent was $200 a month. Without a job, I would only be able to stay here for a couple more months before I ran out of money to pay for it.

It wasn't that I wanted to have to get up every morning and serve other people in some mundane way, it's just that I had to in order to maintain my livelihood.

I stretch out my limbs as I sit up from my slightly squeaky bed. I recalled what the landlord had said the day before, that there was a coffee shop just around the corner or so that was looking for employees. It seemed like it would be within walking distance and the easy kind of job I needed until I could look into Broadway jobs.

That's what I was planning to do once I got settled into living in New York. I wanted to be on Broadway; as a tech, of course, I know I'm not talented enough to be on the stage. Not that I didn't want to be on stage, but I knew better than to try something that would ultimately end in failure.

With a yawn, I pull in some fresh clothes and lace up my shoes. I hadn't had time to buy any groceries upon arriving in New York, so I skip breakfast with the plan to buy something at the coffee shop.

The cool air of New York hits me in the face as I step outside. No one batted an eye at me despite my possibly strange attire. I had on a hoodie that was so old it had been falling apart until I had fixed it up with some ripped patches from a purple flannel I had at the time. The clearly visible, thick white stitching was a display to all that looked at me that it had not be made by a skilled craftsman. I didn't mind though, I liked the Tim Burton feel of it once it was finished.

The sidewalks were bustling with people. Some were dressed in suits who were talking into their phones as they walked with a hurry in their step. Others were dressed like tourists, looking around in awe as they tugged their suitcases along, looking for their hotel.

Noise overwhelmed my senses, making me squeeze my eyes shut momentarily. I didn't like New York that much, but it was my new home. I'd have to get used to this.

I begin to walk, forcing my feet forward one step at a time as I make my way toward the coffee shop around the corner. The screens, the cars, the people... they were all overwhelming and overstimulating my senses. I focus on the ground beneath my feet. It's solid. It's firm. My steps are sure even if I'm not.

The coffee shop looks pleasant. It's called The Coffee Bean, an easy to remember name. Nice, large and clean windows that allows those walking by to see inside. A pleasant, sleek design greets me as I enter. A small jingle above my head tells me there's a bell on the door. I ignore it, looking around the shop.

There's dark wood tables with matching chairs along with booths with dark purple cushions. The walls were dark brown with black accents and what looked like hand painted white patterns and designs; I see a pair of doves among them. There are couples flirting and sharing their drinks, there are groups of friends  laughing and joking amongst themselves, there's people sitting alone, some quietly sipping their drink as they enjoy the nice environment of the shop while others had their laptops outs clearly working.

My attention shifts to the counter. There are three baristas behind it, one at the cash register, awaiting to take an order while the other two mixed drinks and cleaned their workstation. There was a little black sign next to the cash register that read 'Help Wanted! Ask one of our employees for details!'.