The Cafe Girl
Prologue
Prologue
Jess’s POV
One day I swear I will fucking show them. I will stick it up to them and make them pay. . . I will fucking hu-“
There was a loud crash followed by a string of profanities, snapping me out of my thoughts. I was disoriented. I looked around me. The café was unusually quiet for a Friday morning. Saved for an older couple, a mother and child pair, and a girl studying in one corner, the place was deserted. I have served everyone already, which was my main job for the day, and I must have started daydreaming again because of all the free time.
It’s weird to think that 2 months later and that’s still where my mind goes.
I shook my head. No, enough is enough. I am not going to let my head go back there again. To keep busy, I got the empty milk dispensers and gave it a good rinse. I didn’t want to have even a minute of clear headspace in case my thoughts wander back to them. So I decided to turn the music up and start cleaning the counter.
The little bells in the door started ringing and I conditioned myself to bring out my “customer friendly face”. However, as soon as I saw him walking towards me, my expression went from cold to stony. I pulled the phone closer to me in case I needed to call an emergency number as the man strode confidently to the counter.
Is it completely self-absorbed to say that this guy is stalking me? I swear he comes in to the café at least twice a week and even though he has never really engaged in friendly chit-chat with me, there is something about him that is just off. I haven’t quite picked up on that at the start since I dismissed him as one of those neurotic customers we seem to get, but the more I noticed him the creepier he got.
It wasn’t just that he was creepy though, but he would always just stare at me. Even though I’ve caught him staring a few times now, he still doesn’t stop. Even as I looked down and prepared his coffee, I could still feel his gaze lingering.
God, what a freak.
“Hi, what can I get you today?” I asked politely. I already knew the answer because of how often he came here, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“Just a flat white thanks. Listen, what time do you go on break? Could I talk to you in private?” he asked. I was caught completely off guard. What the hell?
“Sorry, do I know you? I mean, you come here all the time and you just stand there and stare. That shit is creepy, man.” Shit. I did not mean for the last parts to come out. If I get sacked from this job then I am screwed. There is no way in hell I could afford to stay here and I’ll be damned if I had to go back there.
“My apologies if I came across like a, as you called it, “creep”. That was not my intention. You see I’ve been reading your blog. . .”
That was it. This guy was a creep and I swore that if I stabbed him 28 times I would argue it was self-defense. He read my blog and then found my work. I have never been scared my entire life. I decided today was not going to be the day I died so I fought back.
“Are you fucking stalking me?”
“Hardly,” he laughed, “what I meant was I’ve been reading your posts and thought you would be the perfect girl. I wanted to -”
“Yeah, that’s not creepy and called stalking at all.”
“Can you just please let me finish?”
I bit my tongue. So he’s not a creep or a stalker. What is it that he wanted then?
“I’m Sven Johnson,” he said as he handed me his card. Sven Johnson, Artist and Repertoire at Johnson and Associates. It looked pretty legitimate.
“I don’t think I’m following this at all?”
“Look, I know you’re 21 and that you just recently moved here, I somehow have gotten to know you and would like to offer you a proposition.”
“If you think I’m some kind of a prostitute or whatever mister, then I suggest you get the hell out of my store right now.”
“Jess just listen to me,” At the mention of my name, I knew I just had to shut up, “ I’ll just cut to the chase here yeah?”
I nodded.
“How would you like to be Harry Styles’ girlfriend?”
Jess’s POV
One day I swear I will fucking show them. I will stick it up to them and make them pay. . . I will fucking hu-“
There was a loud crash followed by a string of profanities, snapping me out of my thoughts. I was disoriented. I looked around me. The café was unusually quiet for a Friday morning. Saved for an older couple, a mother and child pair, and a girl studying in one corner, the place was deserted. I have served everyone already, which was my main job for the day, and I must have started daydreaming again because of all the free time.
It’s weird to think that 2 months later and that’s still where my mind goes.
I shook my head. No, enough is enough. I am not going to let my head go back there again. To keep busy, I got the empty milk dispensers and gave it a good rinse. I didn’t want to have even a minute of clear headspace in case my thoughts wander back to them. So I decided to turn the music up and start cleaning the counter.
The little bells in the door started ringing and I conditioned myself to bring out my “customer friendly face”. However, as soon as I saw him walking towards me, my expression went from cold to stony. I pulled the phone closer to me in case I needed to call an emergency number as the man strode confidently to the counter.
Is it completely self-absorbed to say that this guy is stalking me? I swear he comes in to the café at least twice a week and even though he has never really engaged in friendly chit-chat with me, there is something about him that is just off. I haven’t quite picked up on that at the start since I dismissed him as one of those neurotic customers we seem to get, but the more I noticed him the creepier he got.
It wasn’t just that he was creepy though, but he would always just stare at me. Even though I’ve caught him staring a few times now, he still doesn’t stop. Even as I looked down and prepared his coffee, I could still feel his gaze lingering.
God, what a freak.
“Hi, what can I get you today?” I asked politely. I already knew the answer because of how often he came here, but I didn’t know what else to say.
“Just a flat white thanks. Listen, what time do you go on break? Could I talk to you in private?” he asked. I was caught completely off guard. What the hell?
“Sorry, do I know you? I mean, you come here all the time and you just stand there and stare. That shit is creepy, man.” Shit. I did not mean for the last parts to come out. If I get sacked from this job then I am screwed. There is no way in hell I could afford to stay here and I’ll be damned if I had to go back there.
“My apologies if I came across like a, as you called it, “creep”. That was not my intention. You see I’ve been reading your blog. . .”
That was it. This guy was a creep and I swore that if I stabbed him 28 times I would argue it was self-defense. He read my blog and then found my work. I have never been scared my entire life. I decided today was not going to be the day I died so I fought back.
“Are you fucking stalking me?”
“Hardly,” he laughed, “what I meant was I’ve been reading your posts and thought you would be the perfect girl. I wanted to -”
“Yeah, that’s not creepy and called stalking at all.”
“Can you just please let me finish?”
I bit my tongue. So he’s not a creep or a stalker. What is it that he wanted then?
“I’m Sven Johnson,” he said as he handed me his card. Sven Johnson, Artist and Repertoire at Johnson and Associates. It looked pretty legitimate.
“I don’t think I’m following this at all?”
“Look, I know you’re 21 and that you just recently moved here, I somehow have gotten to know you and would like to offer you a proposition.”
“If you think I’m some kind of a prostitute or whatever mister, then I suggest you get the hell out of my store right now.”
“Jess just listen to me,” At the mention of my name, I knew I just had to shut up, “ I’ll just cut to the chase here yeah?”
I nodded.
“How would you like to be Harry Styles’ girlfriend?”
I miss this story so much. I hope you can update on this story
4/1/15