Black Coffee :|: America x Russia :|: Countryhumans

Act I, Chapter Two

If the screaming stopped, maybe he'd be able to think straight.

Or, well, gay in his case.

But really, stress from college, a neglected lunch and not sleeping for over 24 hours was the main cause of his swirling headache; but the screaming certainly didn't help.

"I ordered a chai iced tea with caramel syrup, two shots of coffee and whipped cream on top. Is that really so hard to do?" The woman in front of him scolded.

She looked like someone who wanted to pick a fight for the sake of fighting. Seemed like one, too. She had graying blonde hair and blue eyes, which didn't match too well with her two-shades-too-dark foundation to make her look tanned. She had on some grey sweatpants and an ugly, green wool sweater.

She might've been beautiful once, but now she was almost as unattractive as her personality.

Although, that wasn't really America's place to say as a gay country.

"I'm so sorry ma'am, but if I have to make your drink for you again you're going to have to pay," America struggled to keep his voice level and his eye from twitching.

"Excuse me?" the woman roared, slamming her hand on the counter, only causing America's headache to worsen. "You fucked up my order, so you have to fix it for free!"

"Well, yes but," America waved his hand over the five drinks he had made to try and fix his first 'mistake', hoping to shed light on the situation without using words. The real problem was that the woman kept changing her order over and over.

"I'm afraide I'm going to have to ask you to take your drink and leave, ma'am."

Trying his hardest not to grin, America turned to meet his saviour: his manager, Kevin.

The woman opened her mouth to retort, but he was already hurrying her out the door.

"Thank you so much for chosing to drink at our lovely establishment, but you really should be off now, goodbye!"

Kevin slammed the door behind her, turning over the sign on the glass to signify that the shop was now closed. He wound down the blinds over the door and sighed, walking back to the counter.

"I'm so sorry about that, sir," he muttered apologetically. "She comes in every day just to get free drinks, it's the worst."

Kevin had always respected America. Not because he was studying and working. Not because he was especially good at his job. No, he respected him because on one dreary day, America hadn't had nearly enough sleep to keep up a disguise. So Kevin happened to catch him sleeping in the back room, USA's flag for a face, sunglasses crooked and drooling on the coffee beans.

Good thing Kevin's patriotic, or he would've had a real situation on his hands.

"It's fine, I don't usually have to deal with her anyway - since I take the morning shifts."

"Exactly. Let'shope you won't have to again, hmm?"

America took off his apron and grabbed his bag from the back. It was a small red, white and blue sidebag that he kept the essentials in. Adjusting his sunglasses, he waved goodnight to Kevin and stepped outside into the cold night air.

He sighed, his breath fogging up in front of him. He stared up at the stars, watching them twinkle contently.

There were no cars, no people around - which is what America liked most about this part of town. Sure, he could usually be quite the social butterfly, but after a busy day it was nice to not have to answer to the hustle and bustle of the city.