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short story 2. "hi, i'm mitch" series (scomiche fan fic).

Coffee Shop Cutie

It was 7 AM on a Monday morning. I was seated at my usual table in Starbucks, in the corner, beside the glass wall, sipping on my freshly brewed coffee and eating gluten-free pastries. I usually don’t get out of bed before 8 AM but I had a meeting in an hour and I cannot miss my morning coffee. I was reading a book to pass the time and got so engrossed in it that I didn’t notice him enter the shop.

"One grande iced white chocolate mocha, please," he said to the barista. 

There was something in his voice that sounded so… sexy. I looked up from my book and saw a tall guy dressed in a hoodie, sweat pants and running shoes. I could only see the right side of his face but he had blonde hair and a pale face. I hope his face matches his voice. I was pretty sure the barista was trying to flirt. I’ve been coming to this shop for a year and I know her, and I know that she was on flirt mode. She was smiling more than necessary and was making small talk. Maybe he really is cute.

I watched him as he waited for his drink. Too bad, they didn’t shout his name. Probably because he was already standing there and nobody else was in line. He then made this way to the table beside mine and sat across from me. He put on his earphones and started sipping his coffee. I tried to make out his name from the cup but I couldn’t see it. He was looking outside, as if in deep thought.

Both of our tables had two chairs each but neither of us had company, so I had a full view of him. He had obviously just come from a run or jog. His hair was slightly ruffled and his face was a little sweaty, just enough for it to look as if it was glistening. His nose was a little pointed and his lips were a pale pink. He had a few days’ growth of beard running on either side of his jaws to his chin. He wasn’t fat nor was he thin. His clothes were a little loose - I couldn’t tell if he had muscle-y shoulders or arms or abs or thighs. Lord, I hope he does. That would so match his pretty face. Mommy likey. 

I would’ve stayed just to look at him longer but didn’t want to risk getting late for my meeting. I gathered my things, got up and walked out the door. He didn’t even glance at me when I walked past him. I hope I run into this cutie again some time. 

The following morning, I arrived in Starbucks at 8:30, which was usually the time I got there. I ordered my usual and proceeded to my favorite spot. That’s when I noticed that the cutie from the previous day was seated on the same spot. It must be destiny. I placed the tray on my table and tried to get comfortable. Cutie from yesterday was wearing basically the same thing, just in different colors. He also seemed to have the same drink. We are so meant to be - sitting on the same spots, having a signature drink. He appeared more relaxed this morning, probably because he’s had more than enough time to rest after his run. I wonder if he got in here the same time.

Before I could probably learn any more information from observing him, he got up and headed out the door. Just my luck. I watched him walk out the shop and cross the street. I tried to look where he was headed but a bus passed by. By the time the bus was out of view, so was he. Damn.

That night, I tossed and turned in bed, my mind occupied with the coffee shop cutie. I barely slept but I set my alarm for 7 AM. I was on a mission.

I had to drag my sorry ass out of bed the next day, having had only a few hours of sleep. But that’s what the coffee for is, right? I rushed and tried to get extra pretty, hoping that I’d see him again.

When I got to Starbucks at 7:35, he was already on the counter, placing his order. I stood behind him and eavesdropped. Yes, I know, but who wouldn’t, right? Again, I was on a mission. To do what, exactly, I wasn’t sure. But I did know that I wanted to somehow interact with him.

"One grande iced white chocolate mocha to go, please." My face fell. Why universe? Why do you hate me?

"Scott, right?" said Esther, the flirty barista. I couldn’t see her face since his back was blocking my view but I could tell that Esther was smiling extra wide. One, okay universe, I’m sorry I said that. Thank you for letting me know his name. Two, Scott sounds nice. Three, Esther, stop it.  

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Check out Blind Date, my first fan fic and first installment to this series, here on Tumblr or on Wattpad. Enjoy!

Why are you so angry with me?

Because you lied to me Luke.

I’m sorry, T. I really am.

It’s too late for you to say sorry Luke. Was it all a lie. The compliments, the kisses, the hugs, everything? It didn’t mean anything to you did it?

Of course it did, T. All that, it means so much to me.

Yeah, well this relationship was obviously a mistake. God, I can’t believe I fell for that. You let me fall in love with you, Luke Hemmings. I loved you.

T, you don’t mean that. I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have done that, but that mistake is why I am in love with you. It was a beautiful mistake

No, Luke. It was all fake. And us, we are a mistake. I’m done with you. I never want to speak to you, let alone see you, ever again.


Taylor Evans, was her name. She was the isolated girl you saw everyday, but managed to appeal to all and everyone. She wasn’t snobby nor was she spoiled or selfish. She was humble, and selfless and all that you could want in a girl.

She put everyone ahead of her, always making her everyone was happy, and always forgetting to leave some happiness for herself. And managed to make every horrible situation just a little bit better. Not this time.

After somehow being the target of a bet made up by four best friends, she feels as if her whole world had collapsed. There’s just one thing she promised to remember…

Forget Luke Hemmings.


To continue reading please click here

Book 3 in the 5sos collection © LenaDuchannes211. All Rights Reserved. Cover © LenaDuchannes211

No. It’s not painful. It’s like drowning, but everyone else around you is perfectly breathing. It’s numbness. it feels as if you’re not loved, like you can’t be saved from it. It’s a darkness. It continually pulls you into death, and there’s no escaping it. No air to breathe, just complete and utter darkness. Sometimes you just feel like crying and crying, even though you don’t have a reason to. It makes you feel dead. You don’t feel any emotion. You just kinda sit there and wait for death to come, in a way, and put you out of your misery. It has gotten to the point, to where, if there was a car coming straight towards wouldn’t run, scream, or cry, you would just stand there numb, waiting for the impact. You don’t want to talk to anyone, because they don’t get it. Sometimes you sit there contemplating your own suicide. Everyday is an inner battle with your demons, and every single Goddamn day they win. It makes you feel worthless and you feel like you’re dying every single day you live. It hurts. It hurts so bad when people tell you, that everything is going to be ‘alright’, when you obviously know it’s not. Everyday is lie after lie, telling people ‘I’m fine’ or ‘I’m okay’, when emotionally and literally I’m broken. and you wonder why bad things happen to good people. It even make you think that it’s okay to harm yourself in order to forget about the current pain. And the worst part about it all, is knowing you did the best you could, to stay happy, positive or alive, even if it was fake, and it still wasn’t enough.. That’s what depression feels like.
—  Ruptured (A Wattpad book written by me; paradisevmalik)