PLUS + (An Ed Sheeran Fan Fiction)

Chapter 1 - Cold Coffee

Okay okay! So, first thing I'm changing is making shorter A/Ns so, this looks better in Times New Roman font #justsaying.

Dedicated to the person who wrote the first Ed fic I've ever read, which btw is amazing and you all HAVE to go check it out right now: Ayshe! (aka CarrotQueen)

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CHAPTER ONE - COLD COFFEE:

The cold breeze cooled my sweaty face as I stepped out the back door after work. It was both refreshing and irritating. Refreshing because I was about ready to have a heat stroke, irritating because I didn’t understand why Club 206 couldn’t invest in some air conditioning. Club 206 was where I worked: bartender by day, dancer by night. I avoided using the words ‘stripper’ or ‘pole dancer’ because those words sounded harsh and I was just a tad more classy than that. Of course I didn’t enjoy what I did. Dancing as a young girl was fun, something I enjoyed, but the job I had now was less than unenjoyable. Creepy, leering, old men gawking at me as I pranced about the stage in skimpy outfits. There was one rule for Club 206: no touching. We weren’t allowed to touch them, they weren’t allowed to touch us. It was one of those places where that rule was actually upheld, and with that, I was paid enough money to keep me going, at least until I could do something better with my life. 

My dark hair lifted a little in the breeze, as I pulled my jacket closer around my body and walked out of the back alley. Pulling out my phone, I saw the time was little after two in the morning. I looked down either side of the deserted street, before stepping out and walking at a brisk pace, my boots slapping the pavement a little too loudly for my liking. It wasn’t long before I heard another set of feet walking at a similar pace behind me. I picked up my pace, walking a little faster, not noticeably though. As I turned the corner, I chanced a tiny look at the person that was walking behind me. From the one second glance, I noticed it was a man, with a black hood up over his head. I continued my walking, my boots hitting the ground just a moment before his did with each step. He didn’t appear to be following me, just walking behind me. I decided to chance it, and find out whether he was following me, you know, as you do at half past two in the morning. I sighed lightly. 

On one of the main roads, I spotted a coffee shop I often went to during the day. They’ve never seen me like this, after work, but if I kept my coat on, they won’t notice what I do for a living. I turned into the twenty-four hour open café, as though I did this every night. At two in the morning. I walked up to the half asleep barista, who tried to perk up a little as she asked what I wanted. 

“A jumbo cappuccino, with an extra shot of espresso and two sugars,” I stopped for a moment, looking at the board, figuring I might as well stay for a while, “And a bowl of fries.”

“Yep, that’ll be six-ninety,” the barista said. 

I handed her my money, before moving off to sit in my usual seat in the corner of the room, by the window. I pulled out the book I had just started reading, The Casual Vacancy, opening it where my bookmark lay. I stole a glance out the window, near the door, and saw the hooded figure standing next to the door, a small book in his hands, scribbling. I could just see the very tip of his nose poking out from behind the hood. I looked back down at my book, but didn’t read. I just stared, my thoughts wondering away into a land of their own. 

I was snapped out of whatever land I was in, when the barista brought my coffee and food to me, placing it down on the table without a second look. I picked at my fries, sipping at my coffee, as I turned back to the book, actually reading this time. I was pulled out of the world JK Rowling had created when the bell to the shop door chimed. My head snapped up to see the hooded figure walking in, hands in pockets, facing away from me.