Reddit Stories 2019

Chosen One

"Large mocha," I grumbled at the spotted teen behind the counter. My head pounded. Either the lack of sleep or abundance of vodka did me in, but I just wanted the headache to go away. Coffee would help. A mocha because I didn't hate myself that much.

The teen stared at me with wide hazel eyes. A mop of curly orange hair fell over the top of his visor. He was petrified. I checked behind me, making sure I wasn't about to be part of another robbery. No man with a gun behind me. Just a young woman, her kid, and the usual assortment of professionals.

I sighed and amended, barely resisting the urge to roll my eyes. "Uh, please."

The kid worked at a coffee shop for Christ's sake. He should've been used to the standard morning rudeness.

The teen gulped and nodded slowly. He punched in the order even slower. Maybe I somehow wound up on some stupid prank show. Wouldn't put it past the place. They weren't good, but they were close and cheap, and that's all I cared about really.

That and getting my coffee as quickly as possible.

The register beeped. Must've been one of those fancy new machines that let you pay with a phone. A soft golden light bathed the pimpled teen's face. He sweated profusely. God, adolescence was gross.

"That'll be, um..." The teen fell silent as he struggled with the three digits on the screen. I felt bad for him. His parent's could not have been proud. "I have to go speak to manager. The manager. Please, uh, please wait a sec."

"I'm not going anywhere," I said quietly.

The teen dipped into the back, determined to make the process as painful as possible. Maybe I was being punished for giving myself some chocolate. There were forces out there determined to punish anyone who crossed them. I definitely was on their list.

The growing crowd behind me grumbled.

"You left the register open?" A booming voice roared from the back. The manager stormed out from his office, shaking the floor with each heavy step. Behind him, the meek barista followed, sweating even more. I'd hate to be him in summer.

Both stopped at the counter. The manager's jaw fell to the ground, dropping the cigar from his mouth. The young mother behind me started to chastise him for smoking indoors. I shushed her.

I needed my damn coffee.

The manager ran a hand through all three hairs left on his scalp, rubbing his face with the other. "I'll be damned, boy. You were right."

"Excuse you," a lady said behind me. We all ignored her.

"I told you, sir," the teen squeaked. "It's him."

"It's me," I said, hoping this would speed up the process. My head pounded, the line grew out the door, and I still hadn't had even a sip of caffeine. "Can I get my mocha?"

"What's your name, sir?" the manager asked, motioning the boy to start making my coffee. Thank God. I just had to survive a few question and I could sip upon that nectar of energy.

"Frank," I grunted. That wasn't my real name, just one of the few aliases I picked up.

"Tell me, Frank, what do you know of prophecies?"

I failed to resist this time. Everyone always asked the same damn question. "Honestly, sir, I don't give a shit."

That usually shut them up.

"Excuse you!"

We both turned to the mother behind me. She clutched her son's ears and glared at us with the anger of gods.

"Sorry, ma'am," I said.

"Well, Frank, even if you don't care, you should know." The manager leaned in close, lowering his voice. I didn't lean in. I could hear him just fine. "You're the chosen one."

"What the he-" I turned back to the quiet child clutching his mother's leg. Her anger had not faded. "-eck do you mean 'chosen one?' I just want a d... dang coffee."

The coffee that the teen had finally finished and carefully walked to the counter. My sweet release was so close. Holding it like centuries-old glasswork, the teen gently handed it to the manager. I gave him a five.

"Keep the change," I mumbled, reaching for the mocha. The manager kept it just out of reach.

So close.

"You can't avoid the truth. You are the chosen one." The placed the five in the till and closed it. The golden light faded. Deciding I'd been punished enough, the manager passed me my coffee.

Finally!

I took a sip from the sweet nectar. The just reward for my patience. "I don't know what you're talking about, sir. Last time I was chosen for anything, it was a year's supply of baby shampoo."

I turned to the woman behind me. "If you need any for the kid, ma'am, feel free to call."

"You can't keep running, Falcon," the manager called after me as I left the shop. "One day you will have to answer the call. It's your destiny. It's..."

The manager's voice faded as I walked to the city's walls. It didn't take nearly as long to find me this time, and if cash registers replaced lake ladies, I'd run out of hiding places soon. Maybe the manager was right. Maybe I'd have to stop hunting monsters and start hunting kings.

Or maybe they'd finally let me enjoy my damn coffee in peace.