Beachwood [H. STYLES]

Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE

There's nowhere I'd rather be but here. In my bed.

Although I was a fool for the outdoors and nature, there's nothing that beats the feeling of being wrapped up in the sheets daydreaming, whilst the sun-kissed my skin. I could lie here for hours with my mind completely blank yet full, drowning in my own thoughts. I hate this feeling but it's what I do best – feel until I don't.

"Oscar baby let's get ready" I yawn, turning to the other side of the bed where I faced my tiny Maltipoo, Oscar. He barks and runs out of my bedroom as a response, causing me to laugh at the fact that he understood me. I've had many companions in my life, trust me but nobody has ever been as loyal as Oscar. Maybe because he wasn't human or that he is practically forced to be with me but either way, if all else fails, I wouldn't be upset because I got my boy right here.

The day was going great, lying in bed and being lazy with my pup. It's always great until adulting gets in the way and we have responsibilities. Arriving at the café, I clock myself in for my shift and take my place behind the counter, starting to make an order Mark yelled at me.

"Morning, doll. Sleep well?" Marie, a colleague smiles as she heats the muffin. Marie is the oldest amongst the staff at Beachwood, but we all knew she was young at heart and treated her no different.

"Slept fine, mom" I laugh at my own joke and so did she as we continued our tasks at hand.

Working at Beachwood Café was somewhat better than working at any other in Los Angeles I suppose, or at least that's what Cameron always says. It's somewhere that is always busy and full of life, definitely my scene. When the sun was out, so was everyone in Los Angeles, making their way to Beachwood Drive for a catch up with friends. I didn't hate my job – it's nice to see everyone so happy but, it's not easy seeing others live the life you'd kill to live. 

I didn't move to LA to be a barista - papa would've never let me. At twenty-one, I told myself I was going to leave home and make it in California, where my career was finally about to kick off. Yet, it was just my luck wasn't it? Take that big leap and not make it. There isn't a day that goes by where I don't feel stupid. Senseless enough to think that in the city of stars, I would be recognised, that my songs would be heard. It's been three years and I just know that the money I'd saved for this move could have been spent for better use. Maybe I could've even helped mama.

"Are you okay, Rory?" Marie sets her hand on my shoulder. Marie is definitely our mother away from home. She cares for us all at the café and I think of her as someone important in my life, always there for me.

"Just the usual, overthinking." I smile my thoughts away, trying to brush off the topic. Although Marie knows I'm not being honest, she nods and walks away. I appreciated it. What enrages me is when people stick and poke; stick where their noses didn't belong and poke, pushing you to open up and share.

The day is going by awfully slow. It's been four hours since I came for my shift and I groan at the thought of having a whole other three hours left. I know I was destined for something exciting, fun and carefree. I just didn't think 'exciting' meant watching milk turn into foam eight hours a day.

"Rory!" I hear and exclaim of excitement ahead of me. I look up to see a giddy brunette running her way behind the counter and into my arms.

"Cameron! What are you doing?" I ask weirded out at how she embraced me so tightly when I just saw her yesterday. She holds on for another minute, tighter by each second until she started jumping up and down. Worrying about what Mark would say, I pull away from her embrace. "What is up with you?" I ask, implying the obvious. "I got it, Rory! I got the part!" she squeals. This time, I didn't push her away. Instead, I take her into my arms and squeeze her tight.