andromeda // matty healy au

Million Dollars to Kill Me

The next morning was an earlier start. I had recovered from the late night club shift on Sunday, thankfully.  With the slightest bit of sunshine filtering through my bedroom curtains,  I rose from my bed with the vigor needed to start the day.

I allowed my coffee to steep and quickly shoved myself into my 1950's inspired work uniform.  It consisted of a pastel pink and blue mini skirt, along with a white blouse and patented black Mary Jane style shoes.  I only realized after putting on my nude tights that they had a slight hole in the side. When I scanned my drawer, I realized I had no more replacements, so  I painted over the hole with some clear nail polish to keep it in place.

After my very quick breakfast, I put my coffee in a thermos, grabbed a jacket and off I was to the café.  It was a short, brisk walk, and when I approached the building, I saw Frances coming out of her truck. I threw quick wave after she parked.  Getting out of her car, she yelled a hearty "Good morning, sweetie!" to me and came up to the main door with me.  Frances brought out her main key to open the glass door so we could start some cleaning before our shift.

I didn't mind the cleaning, especially if it provides a more pleasant dining experience.  Frances and I have been opening the café from Tuesday to Saturday for almost three and a half years.  During that time, she has always opened the cash and did paperwork while I have mopped, dusted and sterilized.  We were a good opening team, which kept the café running smoothly.

Not long after an hour after of opening the café, I was making a cappuccino for an older man in a suit. Frances had come out from her work in the back and was serving a few sandwiches to  tables. It was about 9:40 am, and the bell to the café door dinged.  I noticed Claudette had walked in, and was checking out the menu, before standing in line to place an order.

"Hey, Claudette."  I said as I waved her over to the front counter.  "What would you like this morning?"

She seemed surprised but relieved.  She let out a small smile and asked me what my preference was.

"Personally, I like a good latte, with a cinnamon bun, but many people find them too sweet.  So, if you're more of a savoury person, there's a really good chicken chipotle morning wrap."  I spoke from experience, I had eaten my way through this menu many times over.

"I will take you up on that wrap, I think. It sounds very good.  I will get a strawberry smoothie to go with it, though.  How long have you worked here?  I just dropped by because the coffee house I normally study in is under construction."  As she spoke she adjusted her leather jacket and over the shoulder bag.

"I've worked here for too long," I said fondly, starting to make Claudette's drink.  "Would you like this to go?"

"No, I'll have to study here. I absolutely cannot study at home - too many distractions."  She put some money on the counter. As I gave her the change she was owed, her manicured hands dropped the change into our tip jar.  I thanked her and told her to have a seat.

I quickly blended her smoothie as I waited for her wrap to warm up in the oven.  When they were both ready, I strode over to Claudette's table and placed her plate and drink beside her large stack of textbooks. Glancing into the open book, I saw diagrams of old buildings, new buildings, wood buildings, steel buildings, glass buildings; it was a lot of information.

As I turned back to the counter, she took hold of my arm.  I spun to meet her blue eyes, and she asked me when my lunch break was.  I looked back as Frances, who I saw through the kitchen window. She was washing some dishes.  The café was quiet, people were served and contently drank their coffee.  I decided to sit across from her because it sounded like she had something to talk about.