♕𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐬♕ 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐨𝐫

★ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞 ★

♕Rogers P.O.V♕

The weather was miserable with cloudy skies, howling wind and bucketing rain.

It was the middle of March in London, so what did I expect really? Sunshine to start pouring down the gloomy streets? A rainbow to suddenly shoot across the sky?

Miracles like that don't happen in real life, or maybe that's just my negative out look on it. Or maybe that's just a tired and sloppy Roger that didn't get any sleep last night.

I guess the weathers not the only one in a miserable mood today.

I yawned and lazily tugged my eyes always from the rattling windows and back to the chatter of customers tucked up inside the cozy coffee shop.

Because I was late, and Mary called in sick from this cold weather, John decided,considering he's employee of the month, that I had to fill in for her and believe me, I'm shit when it come to waitering.

I wouldn't say enjoy, because the word enjoy and work should never be used in the same sentence, I would more say I don't extremely hate being a barista.

I'm ok at making coffee and tea, I mean it's pretty easy putting a small bag of tea in hot water, but spilling that hot tea is a whole new level.

I like being a barista more than being a waiter because Roger Taylor plus waitering is like incredibly clumsy person plus boiling cups of tea which they would naturally trip over delivering.

So isn't it my lucky day that me, a cranky tired clumsy teenager who gets paid minimum wage, gets to be a waiter and deliver tea all of Saturday?

❝Earth to roger! That coffee is going cold.❞ Snapped John from behind the counter with me.

❝Right, right.❞ I grumbled running a hand through my tangled and messy hair.

I yawned and slowly and carefully picked up the cup that was waiting patiently on the counter beside me, then looked over at John.

❝Which table is this for again?❞ I asked, but John was off, running about delivering napkins to messy screaming babies.

I stumbled out from the counter and scanned my eyes to where a lady with dark curly hair was sitting patiently.

Her maybe? It was worth a try, I mean, she was fairly pretty, even though I didn't see her face as she was staring out the rainy window. Maybe it was just her hair I thought was pretty.

I walked over to the table she was seated in and noticed it was scattered with sheets of papers with scribbled writing on them.

❝Coffee for you Madam?❞I smiled resisting the urge to rub my eyes or try to comb my hair out. Even though I looked like shit, I still fucking winked.

Then the supposed ❛she❜ turned around, and to my shock was actually a ❛he❜

★