Rockstar Romance

TWO

To say I saw sadness in his eyes would be an understatement. His eyes are a mirror of all the deepest emotions humas can feel – all combined together and mutiplied by a number with way too many zeros to be counted. And from that day on my one thought has been of him: Lucas, frontman of the Frocks, dream of my sleepless nights and uneventful days. My tiny studio apartment is covered in his posters, I listen to his songs on repeat (I prefer the cheesy acoustic songs he performs all by himself, just him and his guitar), and I wear Frocks pins on every jacket or blouse I own.

A particularly nice one is attached to my work apron right now. It's black with a green frog face on it. The frog is rocking a mohawk and a studded leather collar, his face shows a combination of excitement and rage, his eyes and mouth wide open. Wearing the pin at work might not quite comply with hygiene standards, but so far my boss has let it slide.

I have already sold a few cups of coffees, lattes and espressi to early shoppers, all the while dreaming of that day I first saw him. Day one. It is now day 985.... almost three years. Almost one thousand days of Lucas in my life – and not. That's the issue: Him and I are as opposite as two people can get. Him: the tall, dark, glamourous rockstar who has taken this city by storm and is now gaining national attention with his band. And me: The quiet, shy, somewhat clumsy College girl who spends her nights and weekends at the Pastry Parlor and talks to her cat.

No matter how hard I work, no matter how great my college degree, deep down I know there is nothing I can do to make our paths cross. And even if I did, he wouldn't notice my existence. And even if he did, he wouldn't waste a second to look at me. And even if he did, he wouldn't be interested in me, in any way at all.

„Miss?!“ An irritated voice wakes me from my daydreams. An overdressed lady in her mid fifties stares me down. She seems impatient and annoyed.

„Yes, please, how can I help you?“ I force myself to say a little more politely than would have been necessary. I'm great at switching off my personality when I'm at work, especially when I'm around horrible people. I am the queen of fake smiles.

„Latte. Tall. Soy milk. Caramel sirup. And don't let it be lukewarm again.“, she snaps at me.

I'm not sure if she may have asked nicely before and I just didn't her because of my daydreaming. Wouldn't have been the first time. Or she might just be a particularly rude person.

I decide on the latter and heat her vegan milk close to the boiling point.

Then I regret my choices and gift her a free cookie to make up for the burnt tongue she is sure to have in a few moments. „For your patience“, I sing in the most sugary sweet voice I can find in my repertoire.

The lady glares at me, and I swear I almost see smoke coming out of her flared nostrils.

I may have overdone it with the fake politeness this time.

„It better be vegan!“ she growls, turns around on her heels and marches off with her overpriced, overheated coffee and free cookie.

„Wow, what a Karen!“ I hear a voice snicker next to me. „I know, right - ?!“ I start replying as I turn to whoever took my side in this matter.

And stop dead in my tracks.

And stare.

Ever heard of the literal jawdrop? That's what just happened to me. I'm trying hard to close my mouth and not look like a complete i***t. After what feels like an eternity of wide eyed, open mouthed staring, the wheels up there slowly start turning and I close my mouth. And keep staring.