Chapter Text
It was the same old routine. Wake up, get ready for the day, write a little of my novel, head to a café to continue writing, go to the gym, go home, eat lunch, call my agent, edit some more, skip dinner, then sleep. The process repeats itself: wake up, get ready, write at the café, go home, eat lunch, call my agent, edit, skip dinner, and sleep. Nothing ever changes. It’s not that I don’t enjoy it—I do. I’m hoping to finish publishing my book by December, then dive straight into my next novel. You see, I’m a writer, and right now I’m working on a series about a waiter and her boss. But here’s the twist: the waiter is an undercover agent investigating a murder, and the boss is the murderer. As the story unfolds, they start falling in love, but neither of them knows the other's true identity. It’s a sweet romance between two people who are hiding their love—and their secrets.
Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the time on my laptop. Looks like it’s time to head to the café. I closed my laptop and walked over to my closet, pulling out my usual autumn attire—a turtleneck, blazer, and coat. After getting dressed, I slid my laptop into my briefcase. Just then, my phone buzzed, the soft melody of a piano playing in the background. I grabbed it and saw it was my agent, Emma. I picked up the call while continuing to finish getting ready to leave.
“Vincent! How’s it going?” she asked, her cheerful tone ringing through the phone.
“I’ve been well. How about you?” I replied.
Luckily, I live in an apartment close to the café, so it’s just a short walk. I also enjoy taking in the sights of the area as I go.
“Fantastic! So far, the ratings for your series have been great, and fans are eagerly awaiting your next book… Speaking of which, how—“It’s been going just fine, no need to worry.” It’s true—I’m pretty popular, especially among the younger crowd. But as popular as I am, I still have to keep my identity a secret. I’ve actually been going by the alias Rain .
“Perfect! I’ll check in on you later, then. Bye, Vincent. Stay safe!” she said cheerfully.
“You, too, Emma, stay safe” I hung up, walking forward.
Emma and I have been friends ever since she was looking for someone to be her agent, and I just happened to need someone to represent me. We ended up matching perfectly, and it’s never caused any problems. How many years has it been since my first novel? Five? Six? Too long to keep track, I suppose. But even so, she’s still a fantastic agent to have. And for anyone wondering if Emma and I are something more—no, we’re not. She’s aroace, meaning she’s not interested in dating anyone, except maybe garlic bread for some reason.
Finally, I made it. As I stepped inside, the warm scent of fresh croissants filled the air. It’s been a while since I’ve been here, but I was glad to see that nothing had changed. I walked up to the counter, already knowing exactly what I was going to order.
"Hey there! Welcome to Dark and Cozy Cafe! I'm Rody, your friendly barista—what can I get started for you today?"
Well, this is new. I froze for a moment, staring at him with wide eyes. What am I doing? He asked a question, and here I am, standing there like an idiot. I know what I want—a black coffee with no milk or sugar—but why can't I say anything? The words just won’t come out, and my stomach hurts. Why does my body feel so weak all of a sudden? What the hell is happening? Come on, Vincent, focus. You’re supposed to order something, so why are you just standing here, silent? You can do this. Just repeat after me: “One black coffee with no milk or sugar, and maybe a croissant.” See? It’s simple. Focus, Vincent. Why are you making yourself look like an idiot?
“Uhmm, excuse me?” He mutters, breaking me from my train of thought. “Is there something wrong with my hair?”
Shit.
“No, your hair looks fine—” Cute even. Wait, what did I just think? “Sorry, I’ll have a black coffee with no milk or sugar and a croissant, please.”
He smiles… He really is cute, isn’t he? What?! Shut up. Don’t you dare think about anything else! He’s just a worker, and you’re a writer here to work on your novel. So why are you getting so worked up? It’s not like it’s your first time here anyway. He finishes typing something into the register.
“Would that be here or to go?” He asks. His voice is so soothing…
“Here”
“That’ll be €5. Will that be cash or credit?”
I hand him the money.
“Thank you, your coffee will be right up soon!”
He turned around and began working on the coffee. I stared off into space, lost in a daze. Talking to him had been surprisingly peaceful, almost as if… No. I shook off the thought and turned away, heading to my usual spot by the window, where I could watch both the inside and outside of the café. That's strange—it’s quieter than usual. Normally, this place is packed, but today it’s calm. I wonder why? I don’t really get it, but… something about him feels…
To distract myself, I pulled out my laptop and put on my glasses, ready to work on the novel. I couldn’t let myself get distracted. I need to publish this novel soon—that’ll be it, the final book of my series. A peaceful ending to a heartbreaking tale, right? Once the waiter discovers his lover’s true identity, he has to turn him in for the murder. That’s the way the story goes. If he doesn’t, it wouldn’t have the same impact. The tragic ending is what makes it meaningful. I’m not one for happy endings—I find them boring. I’ve seen enough of them. The sad ending is what makes my novel stand out from the rest.
“Here’s your black coffee and croissant,” he said, placing them down with a warm smile. The warmth of his gesture was perfect for the autumn chill. How precious. “Enjoy!” he added, before walking off to continue serving the other customers waiting in line.
Ah… I’m in a daze again. How strange. Usually, I’m pretty strict with myself, staying focused on what needs to be done, but today, I just can’t seem to concentrate. I don’t think I’ll get any work done today. It’s fine, I guess. I’ll just work twice as hard tomorrow. Emma will understand… And Rody… Damn it. What have you done to me?