Cup of Roasted Coffee

19; existential crisis

Early morning rain ran throughout the entire island of Hatchetfield. At 2 am, the only people up were bar goers, partiers, and lovers. Emma found herself falling into the first category.

She had gone to get her mind off of things. Her parents, her grades, and her nonexistent job were all invading her thoughts. Things that didn't even matter, shouldn't matter in other words, were getting to her. She had asked Paul if she could come over first, but she never got an answer. It made sense since she had asked him at twelve at night. So the bar she was, allowing the blaring music to worsen her hearing by the second.

The bartender asked her what she'd prefer to drink, but she could tell by his look of pity that whatever she ordered would've been made a shit ton more carefully than normal, resulting in an increase of time that she didn't have. So she excused him, saying she was waiting for someone. She knew she must've looked insane at the bar in her pajamas by herself. As always, no shits were given.

There were actually a lot more people in the building than she was expecting. Some were college students whom she recognizes from class. They overtook the dance floor with a type of energy she could only dream of still having. She watched them, their smiles and laughter becoming eerily taunting.

She knew she was happy with what she had. Friends, partner, money, college education, and barely needing a job or career. She was living the dream in the eyes of high school seniors everywhere. The only thing shitty about her life were her parents and their expectations they decided to have all of a sudden. Yes, she was fully aware that she shouldn't be letting one bad thing ruin multiple good things. Yet in the back of her mind, the words just sat there.

She ran through her current situation right now. She was at the bar, alone, at two in the morning, letting what her parents told her days ago actually get to her. God, she was pathetic.

If someone were to tell Emma that she'd be in that exact position when she was in high school, she probably would've called bullshit and done her best to avoid it at all costs. Now that she thinks about it, she really wished someone would have predicted the future for her. It would make her life a hell of a lot easier right now.

She snapped out of it, turning her chair back around and forcing herself to focus on literally anything else. Her cute as hell boyfriend? Yeah, that would do. How is he so nice? There's got to be some school that he went to for that. Maybe he just actually listened during those dumbass elementary school assemblies about kindness. Damn, those were a living hell. They did have an affect on at least one person though. What was she thinking about?

"Ugh," she groaned, hitting her forehead against the marble counter. "One...oh, I don't give a shit. A cosmopolitan, sure." She waved her hand around in the air, hoping someone behind the bar had heard her mini monologue of an order.

"Make that two." A familiar voice rang out from behind her. With a mumble of curses, she slowly lifted her head up and turned to face whoever was interrupting her moping session.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Emma lazily raised her hand to remove the fallen hair from her field of vision to see Ted. She wasn't surprised he was here, just surprised he wanted to be associated with her in this environment. She watched as he sat down beside her.

"It's nice to see you, too. I could ask you the same thing, hun." He stopped himself from laughing at her baffled expression.

"Oh, I'm having an existential crisis!" She sarcastically smiled, slamming her hand down on the hard surface. "It's going great. Now, what are you doing here?" At this point, she wasn't even trying to think through what she was saying anymore. It was too late for her to be awake and, now that she's seen the consequences of being up, she would happily admit that to anyone.