Darkstache - the coffee shop

Day One

Wilford stood behind the counter, watching as people walked by the coffee shop in the bright morning sun. It was a nice day outside. Clear skies, slight breeze and warm sun. Wilford was going to be stuck inside for most of the day, however. He was at work.

The bell on the door jingled as a customer walked inside. He was shorter than Wilford, with grey skin and a snazzy black suit. His tie was a crimson red, bringing out his red cuff links. Hottie.

He approached the counter, gazing around the shop. It wasn't much to look at. Ugly green wallpaper, black and white tiles. A few tables with some chairs around them inside, some more outside. It was mostly empty right now, save for the elderly couple sitting at the window.

The man stood at the register, eyes rolling over the menu.

Wilford straightened up, pulling his ratty old shirt down from where it had began to ride up his stomach. If he'd known there was going to be handsome man popping in for a visit, he'd had worn something much nicer. If only he could see into the future. Unfortunately, he couldn't.

Wilford was wearing an old yellow T-shirt with a hole in the stomach, hidden by his black apron. He'd brushed his hair back that morning, but with the amount of times he'd run his hands through it in boredom, he'd managed to fluff it up an ungodly amount.

"Hello, sir, what may I get you?" Wilford smiled.

The man looked back at Wilford, placing a ten dollar bill on the counter. "Tall flat white, extra hot, to go."

Wilford nodded, scribbling it onto a piece of paper. "And, could I get a name to place both on your order and your lovely face?" He winked. Damn, sounded so much cooler in my head.
The man raised an eyebrow. "Darkiplier." Not the oddest Ego name Wilford had ever heard. Pewdiecry was pretty bad.

"Wilford." He said. He took the money, handing him the change. Darkiplier dropped it carelessly into the tip jar. He wandered off, sitting on a stool near the door. He picked up the newspaper from the table, flicking through it mindlessly.

Wilford did his thing, fiddling with the coffee machine. It dispensed the coffee into a cardboard takeaway cup, Wilford poured the frothed milk into it, leaving the actual froth out. He picked up the lid, walking back to the counter. He scrawled 'Darkiplier' across the cup in his neatest handwriting, feeling like he was back in primary school writing to his crush. It was true enough, except this time he was a fully grown man salivating over another fully grown man. It wasn't the first time.

"Darkiplier." He called out. He looked up, setting the newspaper down and taking the cup.

"Thank you."

Wilford leaned forward, elbows resting on the cash register, head in hands. "Any time, darling."

Darkiplier stared for a moment, nodded, and strolled casually out of the shop once again, checking his watch. Wilford could see him through the window. Darkiplier shook hands with what looked to be another Ego. Green skin, red slit across his throat, black jeans and black T-shirt.

Ah, he had a date.

Wilford shrugged it off, collecting the mugs and plates left at the tables by assholes who couldn't be bothered to walk to the trolley and throw their shit on it. He threw them into the sink and started the tap, dropping some soap into the mix. A guy like Darkiplier would obviously already have a partner. A face like that, and that damn voice? How couldn't he? It was literally impossible.

Wilford told himself he didn't mind.

He did.

He really did.