In The Heights Fanfiction

Chapter 1: In The Heights

A/N: I have the first song in the musical in the link up above. :) 

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"Yo, that's my wall!"

A young bodega owner bolted from his stoop. He almost tripped trying to chase Graffiti Pete away from his grate. His feet came to a halt as Pete left his peripheral vision.

"Gosh, I hate him. He's always messing with my grate!"

The bodega owner glanced around the barrio known as Washington Heights. The sun's rays were creeping down the tall buildings, he knew he had to get to work soon.

I need to get there fast. Lots of people are counting on me to start their day with a fresh, hot cup of coffee.

He worked his way down the street, hoping he'd make it there before anyone else did. The cacophony of whispers and car horns didn't bother him much as he sped up. Eventually, the door to the bodega was open.

"Ice cold piragua!" a familiar voice shouted as he slowly pushed his cart.

I'd notice that Puerto Rico flag anywhere. It's Piragua Guy. "Parcha. (Orange.) China. (Passion fruit.)  Cherry. Strawberry."

Piragua Guy approached the bodega owner and smiled. "And just for today, I got mamey!(mango!)"

"Oye, Piragüeo, como estas?"(Hey, Piragua Guy, how are you?) 

"Como siempre, Señor Usnavi." (As always, Mr. Usnavi.) 

Piragua Guy tilted his hat and pushed his cart forward. Usnavi looked around the barrio once more and popped the grate on the bodega.

The sunlight poured through the little store as Usnavi walked in. He went straight to the fridge to get the milk.

"Fo! What happened to the milk?!" Usnavi jerked back from the carton and set it down on the counter. He didn't feel the natural cool breeze the fridge usually gave off.

"Hold up just a second-" Usnavi touched everything in the fridge. It all was warm. "Why is everything in this fridge warm and tepid?"

He found himself looking around for a possible answer to this dilemma as the bells above the door jingled.

"Ooo-oo!" Abuela (Grandmother.) Claudia slowly shut the door and made her way to the counter.

"Abuela, do we have milk at home?" Usnavi was in a hurry, he couldn't sell any coffee this way.

"No, que pasó?" (No, what happened?) 

"It's my fridge. I got cafe but no "con leche."" ("with milk.")

Abuela stood there while Usnavi waited. She clapped her hands together and smiled.

"Try my mother's old recipe: One can of condensed milk!"

"Nice!" Usnavi was relieved Abuela had found a way to fix the milk situation. "Oh, I almost forgot!"

He reached under the counter and pulled out a ticket and handed it to Abuela.

"You're lottery ticket."

Abuela's smile doubled in size. She kissed the tickets and held them to the sky.

"Paciencia y fe!" (Patience and faith!) 

"Anytime, Abuela!" Usnavi shouted to her as she left the store. She smiled and waved goodbye.