2:45am
It had been four days of concern, torture, and loneliness.

It had been four days since Oliver last saw his mystery girl.

He still arrived to the café just in case She'd come around again. He stayed longer than usual in hopes to catch a glimpse of Her, but no such luck.

He missed Her like hell.
As creepy as it sounds, He missed watching Her.

His thoughts drifted to the last look She had given him.

A frown — Her forehead creased, expression masked with annoyance and impatience.

Oliver did not understand why the girl had glared at him.

Was it something he did? Was it something he didn't do?

He began to worry that something happened to Her. A swarm of possible scenarios ran through the boy's head.

What if She was grounded? What if She got lost? What if She was kidnapped?

Why wasn't she at the café?

Oliver was beginning to lose his mind.

He had to save Her. He sprang into action but paused when a small yet authoritative hand held down his bony shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?" A feminine voice inquired.

He glanced up to find blue eyes glaring.
Why was everyone glaring at him lately?

He noticed it was the same sassy barista from four days ago.

"I need to leave," his voice laced with urgency.

The barista scoffed. "You are not leaving until you pay for this tea."

Tea? Oliver turned to put a face to the voice: a girl with frizzy straight, blonde hair, wearing a wrinkled apron, crystal blue eyes squinting. She was small—adorable even—but her presence was somehow intimidating. "Sit down and pay up," she commanded.

"But-"

"Sit down and pay up," she repeated.

"I need to lea-"

"Look," she irritably huffed. Why was this girl irritated all the time? "It's 2:45 in the morning. I'm the only worker here and you're the only customer here, which by the way, I have no idea what kind of person chooses to come to this crappy café this early in the morning. I'm tired and I want to go home, but I need all the money I can get, so can you just sit down and pay up." She tried to regain composure. "Please."

Oliver stared at her in shock.

How could such a little thing be so vulgar?

He reached in his pocket for cash, handing it over to her already outstretched hand. "You can keep the change."

The girl scoffed. "You owe 75 more cents."

"Surely 75 cents doesn't matter."

The barista gave him a look.

"Right," he coughed, handing her the coins.

"You said I could keep the change," she mumbled. "Where is the change hmm?"

"Right." He handed her a five dollar bill.

"That's all?" She raised a brow.

Jesus Christ.

He handed her another five.

"May I go now?" He asked, already heading toward the exit.

"She's fine, you know," the feisty blonde told him. "Your mystery girl...She's okay."

He turned. "Do you even know who-"

"Of course I know who you're looking for. You look at Her all the time," she said knowingly. "You've been sitting around like a lost puppy for almost a week now. You also seem more tired than usual, which is saying a lot."

She wasn't wrong. Since his last encounter with his latest mystery, Oliver had only been able to get two hours of sleep a day. His mind was utterly consumed.

The barista broke his thoughts. "If it wasn't Her, I'd think your little crush was cute."

"What do you mean, 'if it wasn't her?'"

"Nothing," she sighed. The blonde's eyes softened. "I'm sorry for being rude. I'm never like this. You only see me act this way because I'm grumpy and tired during this time frame. You only see me at my worst moments, but when you see me during the day, I'm the sweetest person you will ever meet," she playfully winked.

"Oh, alright..." Oliver mumbled. He was uncomfortable with her sudden change of mood. "Why do you only thrive throughout the day?"

"Because," she threw her small arms animatedly, "the light of sunshine makes me happy!" She smiled. Her eyes became as bright as the sun at the very thought of a sunrise.

It was strange not seeing her in her usual sour mood.

The girl was a daytime person, alright.

Oliver was the opposite, however. He awkwardly sipped his chamomile tea.

Did his mystery girl like chamomile tea? He'd only ever seen her drink black tea.

"You're still thinking about Her, aren't you?" The barista mumbled. "You're totally obsessed."

"No, I'm-"

"You are obsessed her," she continued. "I see it in your eyes. I'm not sure if your feelings are reciprocated though. Judging by the look She gave you four days ago, it's very questionable," she chuckled, humorlessly. "Then again, it wouldn't be a surprise. She doesn't care about anyone but herself."

"I'm sure that's not true," he defended.

The barista hummed. "You should drink your chamomile tea." She held the mug to his dry lips.

He took a sip. "Not to be rude, but I did not order tea."

"I know," she shrugged. "But you seemed stressed."

"Was it that obvious?" He asked.

"Very," she giggled before looking at him pitifully. "You must be tired. Take this tea with you and go home."

He was a bit tired, even though he would not get sleep anytime soon.

The only thing Oliver wanted to do was lock himself in his dim bedroom, lie on his plush bed, and stare at the ceiling.

He did not want to talk to anyone except Her.

His mystery girl.

Oliver stood and walked toward the exit. He did not expect to hear the barista call out to him with a final message:

"Do not waste your time trying to save someone who does not want to be saved," she warned. "Have a goodnight."

Author's note
Who's ready to properly meet Oliver's mystery girl? Keep your eyes peeled for the next chapter. Also, did anyone notice that the barista forced Oliver to pay for a drink he didn't even order? Get that money girl! Anyway, please vote and comment if you enjoyed this chapter. Most importantly, take care of yourself x.