FIRST OF ALL; Lucy wasn't ready for seeing that guy again.

She was drunk, but she could clearly remember dancing with Dan, when someone tapped her shoulder and she turned around to be face to face with a guy she never wanted to see again – a guy that embodied everything she was embarrassed about. But she saw him and he was standing right in front of her, his mouth open as he began to say something.

She didn't want him to speak – she wanted him to go away.

Before he could actually do it, she grabbed Dan's hand and dragged him away, making sure to get lost in the crowd of people so he couldn't find her again. She didn't want to be found. She came to the club to forget and all that happened was that she had an hour of relaxing and then he popped up out of nowhere, trying to talk to her. It wasn't okay, it wasn't what she wanted and it sure as hell wasn't what she needed in her life.

Couldn't he just go on with his life?

Basically, that's what Lucy was thinking about while sitting in the cafe her sister and herself worked at, Bittersweet that was once Chelsea's but the owner divorced from his wife, Chelsea, and renamed the cafe. She was trying to write a short story for the competition she'd found in the newspaper, in which the winner wins $500, but all she could really think about was the guy.

She didn't feel anything towards him, really; it was just that somehow, everything she'd think about would go back to him. Her thoughts process had become an endless loop she had caught herself in by sleeping with him.

Yes, she was now sure she had slept with him. He would've tried to talk to her if she hadn't. She was also sure he remembered what happened, making it even worse.

She really didn't want to see him again.

And, honestly, the only quality topic of the short story she'd managed to come up with so far was the one where a girl meets a boy, they have sex and she can't stop thinking about it because she fell in love. Which wasn't the case here. And they realize they went to middle school together and used to be friends and start dating. Which wasn't the case here, either.

She was so annoyed by the fact that she couldn't think about anything else that could make an interesting story, so why the hell not base it off the worst event of her life and make it seem ten times nicer. Because that's what people like, right?

"Here's your latte," she heard Leslie say, followed by the sound of a mug being put on a wooden table. "You okay?"

Lucy opened her eyes. "Yeah. Just having trouble with getting an idea."

"Oh, well . . . Write about a girl and a boy who met at the graveyard because they were both Satan worshippers and digging the bones so they can summon his demons and get—"

"Les, I'm not writing that."

Her sister chuckled and shrugged, all while maintaining a huge – but genuine – smile on her face. "Too bad. It's a great idea!"

When Leslie left, Lucy drank a sip from her latte; it tasted like chocolate, and it was enough to calm her down. It was fall, she was taking a leap year from college, and things were supposed to be okay. She was supposed to take this year for herself, do what she wanted to do and simply enjoy life before she gets back on the track of the type of life that ends with working somewhere you don't want to work. She knew it was going to happen and all she wanted was a year where she's not forced to do anything she doesn't want to do.

It was weird how just a simple sip of latte relaxed her and made her think about things other than the guy; maybe it was in the taste and smell of it – it felt like home and like old books she'd read when she was bored, and her old papers that had ink splattered all over them. She missed those days, when life was simpler.

And that's how her story was created; a story about a girl who talks about her life and the things she didn't usually notice, finding beauty and meaning in things many would overlook.

Maybe she was supposed to find the beauty and meaning of sleeping with that guy.

Three hours and two lattes later, Lucy was done with the first fourth of her story and she was proud of herself. She closed her laptop, rubbing her eyes; it was already around eight p.m., but the reason why she was sleepy was that she had had a night shift the night before, and the only reason why she was still awake and at Bittersweet was that she didn't want to be alone and write in her apartment when Leslie wasn't there.

"Hey, Les?" she called out for her sister, whose head popped up from behind one of the walls in the cafe. "I'm going for a walk, I'll be back when you'll be done."

Leslie waved at her, giving her a sign she's free to go. Leslie wasn't actually giving her a permission to go for a walk, it was mainly how she showed she was okay with Lucy doing whatever the hell she wanted to. The two sisters had an unsaid agreement – if one of them is going somewhere or going to do something, it's all right as long as the other knows about it.

Putting her stuff in a bag and placing it behind the counter, knowing it was going to be safe there, Lucy plugged her earphones into her phone, putting her 'congrats, we fucked up the world' playlist on play. It consisted mainly of angsty punk, rock and alternative songs, a lot of them being by Nirvana, Green Day, Simple Plan, Blink 182 and others. She herself wasn't feeling particularly angsty, but she knew the main character, Valerie, would be feeling.

She was walking around the neighbourhood, taking all random turns, knowing she had an hour for herself. With music blasting in her ears, she didn't care much about her nonexistent destination. All she wanted was her feet to continue carrying her through wherever they wanted to, while she tries to get into the character, emotions and feelings needed for her story. It was how she lived from day to day, trying to get inspiration from basically everything.

Or, at least, that's what she was doing before she managed to bump into someone.

"I'm sorry!" she said, immediately spreading her arms and taking a step back.

"It's okay," the person replied. It was a guy, around her age, blonde and much taller. He squinted at her, finally asking, "Do I know you?"

"I don't think so."

"Oh. I guess you looked familiar."

Not knowing what to say, Lucy faked a smile at him, before continuing walking in her direction, not thinking about the encounter. Though, she could still feel the guy's eyes on her as she walked away. She couldn't shake away the feeling she knows him, because he not only looked but sounded familiar, too.

Though, she didn't bother thinking much about it, before she fell back into her own world.

●

Truth be told, Bittersweet needed to attract more costumers. Desperately.

Which was why she was sitting in the back of the cafe, having no one to serve and watching two guys set up the small stage for a concert that was supposed to take place later that day. It was only eight p.m., the very beginning of her shift, and she was already done with everyone. It was probably because she'd had an argument with another girl working there, Harper, because she couldn't stop talking about bands.

Lucy talks a lot about bands – but this girl couldn't fucking shut up. It eventually lead to Lucy telling her to shut it, and Harper, being the seventeen-year-old she was, took it the wrong way and started yelling at Lucy. Which then lead to Harper being told to go screw herself, which also lead to the girl throwing a fit. Lucy, as the more grown-up one, took a break from her and took her seat in the back of the cafe, doing absolutely nothing.

She was really pissed off and the fact that the two guys were obnoxiously loud and nosy,; one of them even walked up to her, started using his flirtatious voice and asked her what she was writing into her notebook, before she showed him a middle finger and he backed away. She had no time for his bullshit, not when the deadline for sending the story was only a week away and she still didn't have ending of her story thought out.

"Hey, pretty girl!" one of them shouted to her. "Does this look good?"

Lucy looked up from her notebook, observing the area around the boys. They removed all the chairs and tables, added a ton of wires, set up the drums, two electric guitars and one bass (the only reason why she knew the difference between an electric guitar and a bass was that when she was fifteen she tried her hand in bass playing). It looked pretty decent, she had to admit. It was just about perfect for a small cafe session that probably no people are going to come to.

"There's instruments for four people," she noted.

"Yeah, two guys are gonna be late because they got stuck in traffic or some shit," replied the one who had tried to flirt with her.

"Looks good."

"Thanks, doll."

"Call me doll one more time and you'll have no fingers to play an instrument with," she casually threatened, not even bother to look at him. Frankly, she didn't give two shits about them or the rest of their band or their music. She only hoped they didn't play country or pop because then she would really go even more insane than she was already feeling.

About ten minutes later, the guys requested two beer and to their dismay, Lucy actually asked for their I.D.'s, leaving both of them with two lemonades. It wasn't her fault that they were both twenty and couldn't legally get beer. If they were a bit nicer towards Lucy and if she wasn't feeling like the world wants to chew her alive that day, maybe she would've even gotten them the beer.

"We're gonna leave if you don't give us the beer," the other one stated.

"You're not."

"Yes, we are, and you're gonna get bad publicity."

"You need this gig, boys."

"Don't talk to us like you're older," the flirty one said, walking to her. He stood about two inches above her, with a knowing smirk plastered over his face. "Doll."

Lucy smiled at him, getting so close to him their noses were barely touching. She could almost hear the heart beating in his chest as he tried to keep a still face, yet she knew he was quite challenged by her vicious smirk. "What did we say about calling me doll, little boy?"

"You wouldn't do anything to my fingers like I could do," he whispered to her.

"You might wanna work on your flirting, because that was fucking pathetic." With a loud laugh, Lucy stepped backwards with her hands pushing his chest. "And, keep your dirty fingers to yourselves because, you know, girls have standards."

The guy bit his lip and turned to his friend, who had his head burying in his hands as he was laughing, the strays of red hair popping up. She wasn't proud of herself, but the boy needed to be put down back to earth. He was twenty and he already acted like he had the world and all the girls on it. Someone needed to fix that lame attitude of his.

"You know," Lucy said, walking back to her seat, "if your music sucks half as much as you do, I'll need to get wasted to even be able to hear it."

"Cal's not that bad, he's just not capable of seeing who's too much for him," the red haired one said, chuckling.

"Seriously? Your name's Cal? Well, that explains why you're so lame."

"It's actually Calum," the flirty one said.

Lucy was quite amused when she heard the tone of embarrassment in his voice, not feeling bad at all. She didn't really think his name was that bad, she only wanted to tease him for calling her doll and acting like he could win her. She was a bit harder to get than that.

"I will not comment on your name, because if I say it I'll start laughing and I've laughed enough for one day, boy," she stated, Calum rolling his eyes. She then pointed a finger at the other boy, asking, "What's your name?"

"Michael," said he.

"Well, Michael, I salute you for putting up with this gal during every practice."

"That's just fucking rude," Calum commented.

"Sweetheart, I'm rude."

"As much as I love to hear you, whatever your name is, make fun of Calum, Luke and Ashton will get here anytime soon and we'd appreciate it if you got them something to drink, too," Michael told her. "They're both twenty-one."

"Ugh, fine." Lucy got up from her seat and walked to the bar, getting three beer ready. "My name's Lucy, by the way."

"Do you maybe go to Neon?" Calum asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Holy fuck," Michael whispered. "You're the Lucy."

"If you keep talking like this about me, you're not gonna get your beer, Mikey."

"I'm gonna get beer?" he asked with an excited smile, which lit up the entire room, getting even Lucy to smile at him. "You're the best, really."

"I'm gonna get beer, too, right?"

"No," Lucy told Calum, "beer's only for big boys." She put the three bottles of beer on the table where the guys were, sitting on one of the chairs for it. "So, why did you call me 'the Lucy'?"

Both of the boys suddenly fell quiet and neither of them was looking at her; not even Calum, whose eyes had before constantly been on her. She frowned and chuckled, leaning her head against her palms, with her elbows resting on the table.

"What, cat got your tongue?"

"Listen," Michael spoke, "we have a friend, Ashton, who recently, um, spent a night with some girl. He's been trying to find her ever since, because apparently, he's got something to tell her, but he didn't tell us because he thought we would make fun of him. So, um, we only got a quick look at her. She had darker skin and brown hair. We also heard Luke and him talking about a girl called Lucy and logically, he met her at Neon."

"Does that friend of yours perhaps play in your band?"

"Yes."

"Well, fuck me."