A/N: heyy I just wanted to remind you to give this story time to expand and grow. the first chapters may seem a bit boring, but I promise I'm trying my best <3

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March 26th, 2017
Amber Easton

Not much happens in a life of working in a secluded cafe in Los Angeles.

Every day's pretty much the same; put on a smile, please everyone, wipe the tables, clean the floors, lock up, repeat. Even though it seems like nothing, it's utterly exhausting.

I'm tired.

Over the months of working here, I've understood you eventually learn how to grow a thick skin. I swear if I hear comments like "excuse me, my coffee lacks sugar," or "don't you think this meal is too expensive, dear?" one more time, I'm gonna flip my shit. Like my dad has always said; patience is a virtue, Amber.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind chatting with the locals and regular customers, but sometimes people just love getting on my nerves.

"Welcome to Beachwood cafe, what can I get for you today?" I ask the middle-aged woman with a platinum-blonde bob haircut standing in front of the glass vitrine with all kinds of sweets and pastries inside.

"Can I have the strawberry eclair and an Iced Mocha?" she says in a snarky tone, her eyes drilled into her phone the whole order.

"Sure thing, although that is a raspberry eclair, can I get you one of those instead?" I ask politely, before she scrunches up her eyebrows, about to argue, then lifts her eyes to see she was mistaken, then drops her eyes back to the phone, subtly rolling them.

"Whatever," the lady mumbles in an annoyed tone, turning back to her table. Geez.

Patience, Amber, Patience, your shift is ending soon anyway.

"One raspberry eclair and an Iced Mocha coming right up," I sigh and push on a fake smile before turning away to turn on the coffee machine.

As I'm blending the ingredients for the coffee, I hear the small bell sitting on top of the front door frame ringing. I turn to see a fairly young man with unruly chocolate brown curls and piercing green eyes sit on one of the barstools in front of the counter.

Although it's the first time I've seen him here, I feel like I recognize him from somewhere, but I just can't quite put my finger on it.

My best friend, Landon, who's also working in this cafe, is already on his way to serve the green-eyed customer, seeing that I'm still busy working on the previous order.

I've known Landon for about a year now. We met when I got hired for this job. His father owns this cafe, and honestly, I think he's only working here to keep me company, which I don't complain about, but sometimes I feel like I'm being a burden to him.

"Welcome to Beachwood cafe, how can I help you?" is all I hear him say before zoning out to complete the snarky lady's order.

Once I'm finally done mastering the coffee, I scan the place in search of the middle-aged woman. It's not hard to spot her, considering there are only a few people roaming around the cafe.

It's always this quiet around here. Even if there are never many customers, the rich people coming here keep this place running.

This place honestly has such a cozy vibe to it — the warm lights accentuate the caramel-toned brick walls and oak floorboards. The piano sitting on the side of the room and the decorations on top is the perfect mix between bohemian and modern-day interior.

"One raspberry-flavored eclair and an Iced Mocha," I exclaim, putting the order in front of the platinum-headed lady.

She nods her head, still drilling her eyes into the phone in front of her, not even saying thanks. I'm a person too, you know?

Even if she doesn't dare to look at me, I can still see her judgy expression, making me feel small. I can always tell when people judge me just by the look on their faces.

I sigh and make my way back to the counter and see the green-eyed man still sitting on the barstool in front of me enjoying his order. He takes the teaspoon in between his painted black nails and spins it around in his coffee, then takes it out and rests it on the side of a small plate sitting underneath a cinnamon bun. A single curl falls down his forehead as he's looking down at the plate.
I can't help but send a few glances his way; I swear, I've seen him somewhere before.

To my surprise, he suddenly looks up and locks his olive-green eyes with mine. I look away, feeling like a freak, and, to avoid any awkwardness, take a grape-flavored hard candy treat from the huge bowl for customers and throw it in my mouth.

"Hi," the curly-headed boy says.

"Hi, is everything alright with your order?" I try to sound like I wasn't just caught staring at him. I scan over the cafe, to see Landon busy clearing the tables. Fuck, he's usually the one chit-chatting with people.

"Yeah, everything's perfect," he replies in a deep voice. Is that a British accent? "You know, I've never been to this cafe before," he continues, almost smirking.

"Well, I hope you're enjoying your time here," I convey, offering him a smile and resting my forearms on the counter, slightly leaning on them.

"I am, actually. It's quiet, nice, lowkey, cozy, and stuff," now he's smiling too, his two front teeth being longer than the others, resting his head in his propped up hand on the wooden counter.

"I'm Harry," he continues and suddenly everything clicks in my head; that's Harry fucking Styles.

"Oh, yeah, I thought I'd seen you from somewhere before. I'm Amber, by the way." I say in a pretty amused tone, trying to keep my cool. I break our eye contact, scanning over his hair once again. I thought he had long hair?

"I recently got a haircut, so that's probably why you're confused," he mentions, chuckling, almost as if reading my mind.

"Got a small trim, huh?" I joke, his gaze piercing deeply into me, almost as if he's reading my aura.

"Yeah, just snipped the split ends, ya know," he continues on the joke.

We both keep eye contact, trying to hide our grins, then he finally lets out a small laugh.

Then, his phone starts ringing. He takes it out of his pant pocket, reading the caller ID, his whole demeanor shifting. I see him sigh heavily and slightly furrow his brows before excusing himself to a more private place to take the call.

My phone also buzzes, bringing me out of my observation.

Liv:
8:54 pm
Girlll, don't forget about my party tonight at 11 pm!!!
Call me when you decide what you'll be wearing! Love ya x

I look down at the text message my best friend Olivia has sent me. Shit, I almost forgot about her birthday party tonight.

I get startled when I see none other than Harry standing in front of the counter, shoving the whole cinnamon bun from earlier in his mouth.

I stand there with amused eyes, while he brings a wad of cash out of his back pocket, dropping it all on the counter and says, "Sorry, I gotta run, keep the change, bye!" in between his long chews, before sprinting out of the cafe.

I look down at the thrown cash on the table, seeing more than enough being paid for his order.

He tipped me over 500$.

With that, Harry's gone, and I can't help but think will I ever see him again?

The clock strikes 9 pm indicating the end of my shift and the time to drink all my problems away.

***

what did you think of the first chapter?
who do you think she's going to meet at the party ;)

also, let's ignore the fact that this story's taking place in 2017, and harry cut his hair off in may 2016, but here he only recently chopped it off.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEAAAASE HELP ME OUT AND VOTE! it really takes only 2 seconds and it's enough to make my day <3

xx