Spooky decor
On days like these James was questioning his life choices. And his sanity. And maybe he was seriously contemplating doing therapy. Or drugs. But mostly he just wanted his shift to end, letting him switch off the “open” neon sign and close the door so no one else could come in and add to the pile of dirty mugs, shot glasses, milk pitchers, spoons, pastry displays, and who knows what else the sink and racks accumulated since 8 in the morning.
James had no idea how he even ended up as a barista at a local coffee shop in the first place. It was one of those things that just happened. He came to the Uni to pick up some paperwork sometime in July and met the girl from his statistics class – Mary. She asked if he needed a job and proceeded to tell him all about how they couldn’t find an employee.
Maybe it was because he felt bad that they couldn’t find anyone for the past 3 months and he wanted to help Mary out since she was always nice to him. Maybe it was because his internship was 7 months away and he didn’t know what to do with himself. Maybe because he was smacked in the face with the real world and realized that rich kids from his boarding school were a tiny fraction of the population, so now James was surrounded mostly by ordinary people and he wanted to blend in.
Whatever was the reason, or the combination of reasons more like, he spent the last two months working as a barista. Needless to say, he didn’t even need the job.
He took mostly evening shifts because he lived close by, when every other barista did not, because he had morning lectures once the school started, because he liked walking night streets and he didn’t really mind staying late to close the shop.
It was good. Or maybe James convinced himself it was.
Until a day like October 5th happens and ruins all the fun of his play-pretend adult life with a real job and responsibilities (not like his apartment’s rent was twice the amount his paycheck here).
“James?” Marlene’s voice was a little bit panicked. “Please, don’t fall from there!”
James was on a ladder trying to stick fake spider webs to the ceiling. Was this the wrong time to mention how he adored Spider-Man as a kid? Probably. He used to dress up as a Spider-Man for Halloween too. He used to have a love/hate relationship with Halloween as a kid, he mostly ignored it as a teenager, and he totally ignored it as a young adult. Right now he heavily leaned toward the hate part though.
They were supposed to decorate the shop almost a week ago, right when October started. But, well, the post messed up the delivery of decorations, so here they were on a Thursday night, with only 3 people working, a line of customers, and 9 boxes of some spooky shit to add on top of the regular Autumn decor.
Tonight was an absolute disaster from the very moment James set foot in the shop. He was carrying boxes, running around with spider webs and skeletons, making a few drinks in the process when Alice, the other employee on shift, was not able to handle all the customers. After the afternoon rush died down a bit Marlene was decorating the big windows at the front and James was left alone at the till since Alice had left home.
He tried to deal with the unwrapped decor in between cappuccinos, macha-lattes, and espresso martinis (he will be so making one for himself once they are closed for the night).
The most baffling thing about all of this was that James had no idea why he was even doing it. It was not like he needed money. It was not like he had a great interest in learning how to make various coffee drinks. But, well here he was. At 10 in the evening, tired and annoyed, making frappuccinos for a bunch of teenagers.
Thankfully the night was almost over, and he would not see any Halloween decorations at least until Saturday, because thankfully tomorrow was his day off.
When the last person from the line was happy with their drink, James ran to the backroom to organize the boxes and was there for some time, Marlene took care of the couple that went in while he was busy dragging a fake ass cauldron to the corner of the shop. The bell chimed again while James was in the backroom, and he cursed sprinting out on the floor. Marlene gestured for him to take it, she was by the window again, trying to make sense of new additions to the pumpkin display. James sighed and jogged to the till.
The customer there made him halt.
The man was gorgeous. Like a movie star gorgeous. James was aware of his attraction to both men and women, but if he weren’t, now he would know for sure. You don’t see people like that just casually walking around, no, it is rare. For a moment James had a strongest sense of Deja Vu. Like the person was not a stranger, like he had known him for years. And suddenly the scene was like in the movies, the slow motion of the man lifting his eyes from the almond croissants and glancing back to Marlene, probably expecting her to take the order since James was obscured by another pastry display.
The freakiest thing so far was that this entire scene was accompanied by Lana Del Rey’s song from Marlene’s playlist flowing from the speakers.
Where have you been?
Where did you go?
Those summer nights seem long ago…
And it felt so fitting. James, for the life of him, could not explain what the hell just happened, all he knew there was a feeling like coming home, though why a person he’d never met before made him feel that way remained unclear.
He wished his day was not a disaster of wonky Halloween décor, because otherwise, maybe he would have even tried and fed his delusion by flirting with the guy.
But today being what it was, James could not find it in him. This person was way out of his league for sure, so he plastered his wide “friendly barista” grin and popped out at the till.
“Hello,” James straightened his apron. “What can I get you?”
The guy glanced at him, back to the croissants, did a double take, and froze in place. James would be a little freaked out if he was not so busy admiring the otherworldly colour of his eyes.
The pause stretched for too long, borderline uncomfortable, James shuffled in place.
“Hi,” the guy breathed looking at him with wide eyes. Again James had an odd feeling that they’d met before. He could not understand how he could have forgotten someone this beautiful, but stranger things had happened.
“Umm… What can I get you?”
“What?” At this point it was not even borderline, James just felt uncomfortable.
“Are you going to order or?..” James nodded towards the menu.
“Oh. Yeah, sorry,” The guy scanned the menu quickly. “Latte,” he said.
James was a little bit disappointed. Such a basic order. But he went to make it anyway. He felt the guy’s eyes following him the entire time. He was hot, yes, but he also was creeping James out. Maybe it was a good thing James had no energy to flirt with him.
“Here,” James placed his order on the counter, “the barista grin” back in place. “Um... Anything else?”
“Yeah, I think I’ll take two more of these.”
James groaned internally, because what the fuck. Couldn’t he have ordered that at once? Now there’s more shit to wash. He made two more lattes, the guy paid, but he seemed in no hurry to leave, as he sat at the window table, texting someone.
James glanced at the clock, it was 22:45. He and Marlene would be lucky if they’d left before midnight today.
“James!” Marlene rushed in. “Can you move the rest of those damn boxes inside? Let Frank deal with those tomorrow morning. I’ll start cleaning.” She glanced quickly at the guy, but since there was no one else except a couple of regulars in the corner who were about to leave anyway she just went on to wash the pitchers.
James walked out of the shop, moved the display, and dragged in the rest of the boxes.
There were two more people coming in, James could groan, who the fuck even needed coffee at 11 in the evening? They didn’t order anything though. They took the coffee the hot guy ordered and if James was only a little creeped out before, now he was very creeped out. Because all three of them were staring at him.
He glanced at the clock.
“Excuse me, we are closing in 5 minutes,” he said to the room in general, because other people were there too, right?
As people were rushing towards the exit one of the guys who went in a minute ago maintained eye contact with James.
“Have a great night,” he said, and he had the nerve to fucking wink at James before walking outside. If that sounded only a little passive-aggressive, considering the amount of cleaning that was there for them, that wink made James sure he was being mocked. And he had no idea why, the person was just being rude out of the blue.
“Do you know them?” Marlene cocked her head.
“No,” James looked at her.
“It felt like they know you though,” she pointed out.
“This was creepy as fuck,” James sighed and closed the door so no one else could come in. “Let’s get over with this, yeah?”
At 00:23 Marlene typed in the security code into the alarm system and they finally walked outside. The night was chilly but there still were people on the streets. Their cab arrived and they filed in. Drive to James’ was less than 5 minutes, but he really didn’t want to walk today.
He said goodbye to Marlene and crawled up the stairs to his flat, yawning and rubbing his eyes. It didn’t help that he had a lecture at 8 in the morning tomorrow.
Once inside the flat, James contemplated just dropping on the bed and falling asleep, but it seemed kind of gross, so he forced himself into the shower.
Once out of there, he did drop into the bed, wrapped himself in a blanket, and fell asleep.
The annoying sound of the alarm clock was not what woke James up.
“You have no idea how much I missed you,” someone whispered, and James felt a gentle hand run through his hair.
It felt like a borderline dream. The moment when you’re about to wake up, but the fantasy has not left yet. James stirred closer to whoever was in his bed. The smell, the voice, the movement of long fingers through his curls felt so painfully familiar that James couldn’t help but lean in.
But soon enough the bubble of sleep burst. James froze, rather aware that there was someone in his bed. He clearly remembered coming home alone. He knew for sure he came home alone.
That someone caught up James’ changed breathing apparently, because the next moment they were out of bed and out of the room, the door clicking quietly.
James knew he should do something. Anything. But he just froze, paralyzed with fear. He couldn’t move. At all. He was terrified to open his eyes too. He knew the room was dark and it was unlikely he would see anything, he only heard rushed steps and the door open and close, he knew he needed to at least reach for his phone and call the police.
For a while, he did nothing. His heart was drumming loudly and his breathing was uneven.
Finally, after some time he managed to coax himself into opening his eyes, reaching for his phone, and switching on the light.
James ripped open the door to the living room and switched on the light there too. It was empty. There was no sound except his ragged breathing.
Should he still call the police? Someone was in his flat, in his bed. But what would he say? There was no visible trace of anyone breaking in.
James sat on the sofa. Glanced at his phone. It was 4 in the morning. Great. There’s no way he falls asleep now.
Maybe it was just a dream? He probably just dreamed it. James checked the windows. They were closed.
It was just a dream. It felt very real, but it was just a dream.
“You have no idea how much I missed you”
The voice was so familiar, but he couldn’t place it. There was no face to it.
Maybe James was too tired from his shift. A little spooked by strange customers and all the Halloween shit. So he just dreamed it.
He managed to convince himself it was a dream.
James wished he had close friends. He did have friends, but none of them were this level of close. And it was one of the things that always felt wrong. He felt like he was meant to have someone, a chosen family. Someone to call at 4 in the morning and talk about freaky dream he just had. Or tell them what he had for lunch. Or how he messed up a regular’s order by dropping a plastic eyeball into the mug. Or how he met the most beautiful person ever but did nothing about it.
Though for now, he could not do any of it. So James set the coffee machine to make some espresso he would absolutely need once the adrenaline rush died down, and went to check on the front door. He should have done it first thing, but he was certain it was locked. There was no sound of its closing and he always locks the door, it is a subconscious action at this point. He used to go check it multiple times throughout the day when he just moved in.
This time the door was not locked though.