First stop tonight was the grocery store. I was not going to go another day without a caffeine kick.

I walked into the nearest Shop Mart, a medium sized grocery store that was near town. To the person that's completely unfamiliar to night life, the store would feel a little peculiar. The fluorescent lights somehow gave a zombie-like appearance to everyone at night, but in the morning, they seemed different. At night, instead of playing the friendly, soft oldies music like they did in the morning, they played alternative punk rock. The people walking around the store at night usually wore dark clothing, with hoods drawn up or fingerless gloves on their hands. It was peculiar. But it was ordinary to me.

I made my way into the aisle where the coffee bean cans were shelved. Walking down the aisle and fingering each label, I finally found the beans that I loved: Starbucks Breakfast Blend Coffee. It was the best, fast to make and perfect to start off my mornings. It was a bit pricey, but it was worth it. I'd rather have to drink only one cup of coffee in the morning and one at night rather than have to drink several cups throughout the day to keep me awake. Because I didn't use it as often, it lasted me longer. I also decided to splurge and buy the Espresso Blend, just because I wanted to test how to make lattes and cappuccinos.

Satisfied with my coffee beans, I wheeled my grocery cart to the cereal section to find some breakfast foods. Scratching my chin, I analyzed my selections.

I could go with the generic plain Cheerios, because those went so well with the coffee. But they added no extra flavor whatsoever. Or I could go with something sweet and chocolatey, like Cocoa Puffs or Reese's Puffs. But then that would be too much sweetness and I wasn't the biggest chocolate fan. No, Honeynut Cheerios would have to be the way to go. Those were both sweet and nutritious.

"Honeynut Cheerios? Really? You're going to go with that?" I heard a voice say. I looked up from reading the box to where the source of the sound was. My eyebrows shot up when I found it. It was Caleb, from earlier that morning.

"Umm...yes?" I replied.

"That's such an old people's cereal," he commented, striding towards me. I cocked an eyebrow at him.

"And how is that?" I asked.

"Well, for one thing, it talks about cholesterol on the very front of the box. In big letters, might I add," he said.

"Well, pardon me for wanting to be healthy," I said.

"If you ask me--" he started.

"Which I didn't--" I mumbled.

"You should get something fun that will brighten up your day," he continued.

"Please continue to tell me your suggestions which I obviously will not take," I said, feeling slightly annoyed. Who was this guy? Trying to question my breakfast choices; the nerve of him!

Ignoring my little snide remark, he continued.

"Well, for example, you could choose Lucky Charms. I mean, look at the face on this guy. So mischievious!" he said, holding out a box of the marshmallow cereal to me.

"No thanks. I think marshmallows and cold milk are a horrible idea," I said, setting it on the shelf again.

"Well, what about Count Chocula?" he asked, thrusting a box of chocolatey cereal at me.

"Too much sugar," I replied, handing it back. He rolled his eyes at me.

"Ok, don't tell me you hate Kix, too?" he asked, holding up the orange box. I fought back a smile. He was definitely persistent. I took the box from him.

"I actually haven't had Kix since I was in grade school," I said, looking at the box.

"See? I knew we'd find a suitable alternative to your old lady cereal," he said, snatching the Cheerios box from my cart and replacing it with a box of Kix. I looked at him, slightly confused.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"Helping you live your life," he replied, winking at me. Without another word, he disappeared around the aisle.

I blinked a few times, rooted to my spot before following him.

"Wait!" I called. He was in the pasta section. He looked up, holding a package of shell-shaped pasta and a package of bow-tie pasta.

"Wha-" I started, but he cut me off abruptly.

"Which do you like better? Bow-tie or shells?" he asked.

"What's the difference? They both go into your stomach," I replied. He furrowed his brows at the boxes, thinking heavily on which to choose.

"Are you always this strange?" I asked. He looked up at me, blinking.

"What do you mean?" he asked back.

"Do you always randomly talk to strangers at grocery stores?" I questioned.

"You aren't a stranger, though," he pointed out, looking back at the boxes. He weighed the two in his hands before tossing the bow-ties into his cart.

"Why the bow-ties?" I asked.

"Liam will like them better," he replied with a shrug.

And I realized he was so picky because he was thinking of his little brother.

"Ah, the little brat," I said. He turned quickly to face me, anger flashing through his forest green eyes. I swallowed and stepped back a bit. I shouldn't have said that.

"He is not a brat," he hissed.

"I-uhh...I'm s-sorry," I stammered. He continued to narrow his eyes at me, his eyebrow twitching.

"You know I was only being nice to you because of what he did and I felt bad because he didn't apologize correctly. But now I don't feel as bad," he said. Now I narrowed my eyes at him.

"If I remember correctly, it was your brother that almost broke my $1500 camera," I said.

"Want to tell the world?" he asked.

"What's your issue? Are you bi-polar or something?" I asked. He glared at me.

"Clever retort. Now try and use one that's a little more age-appropriate," he sneered. I rolled my eyes.

"Says the guy that just used that line," I said.

"Why don't you go back to shopping for old lady cereals?" he asked.

"Fine, I will," I said.

"Fine," he replied.

"Fine!" I said, my voice a little louder.

"Fine!" he retorted, the volume of his voice a little louder, too. We both stood glaring at each other before turning swiftly on our heels and walking our separate ways.

Back home, I angrily restocked my kitchen, still ticked off at how that Caleb guy had acted. One second he was all friendly and giving me advice on which cereals to eat and the next he was breathing fire down my neck because I told him off about his brother. I mean, really. Who was this guy?

I put the cereal in the cupboard above the fridge; I had decided to get the Honeynut Cheerios after all. Who cared what he thought?

After I had put away all my groceries, I went to shower and change into something a little more comfortable. Then I went out again, taking the bus to La Bonne.

"Hello, sweetie," Jeanette greeted me.

"Hi. How are you?" I asked.

"Oh, you know. The same," she replied. I gave her a slight pity smile.

"I know what you mean," I said.

"Can I get you the usual?" she asked me. I nodded. She gave me a meek smile before going to the back.

I looked around me at the mostly vacant cafe. There were literally only two other people in there besides me. I frowned, furrowing my brows. Jeanette was right; this place was losing customers. Fast. This worried me because I didn't want my favorite cafe to close down. Where else would I go to drink coffee and do my homework in the late hours of the night?

And this cafe was Jeanette's pride and joy. She opened the place herself with the money she had earned waitressing and hosting at a variety of different restaraunts and bars. She spent all of her life savings to get the lease for the building and once business started blooming with her secret recipes, she was able to fully buy out the place. But now that La Bonne was completely hers, it seemed as if it would be taken away from her again. I just wished there was something I could do to help her out.

"Here you go, dear," she said, setting my coffee down in front of me.

"Thanks, Jeanette," I replied. She nodded and grabbed the mop she had been holding when I first walked in. The place was already sparkling clean, but I guess she had nothing else to do. It's not like there were any customers to wait on.

After about an hour, when I was thoroughly engrossed in my novel, I heard the chimes of the door sound. I looked up to see who had walked in. It was almost 2 in the morning now.

She was a pretty girl, with light blue eyes and silky brown hair. On her feet were bright blue suede pumps and on her shoulder was a blinged out Gucci bag. I raised my eyebrows at her appearance. She was certainly not the typical night-owl. Maybe she had been out clubbing and was taking a break to get coffee.

The girl ordered a medium caramel latte and sat at the booth that was across from me so that her back was facing me. I watched as she rummaged through her purse and pulled out a compact mirror to fix her eye make-up. I was right. She was definitely not the typical insomniac.

"Done staring?" she asked, making me jump.

"Uhh...what?" I asked back, realizing she was talking to me. She angled the mirror so that she could see me sitting behind her.

"I asked if you were done staring at me. It's kind of rude, you know," she replied.

"I wasn't--I just--I--uhh--" I stammered, not knowing how to defend myself. She snapped her mirror shut and turned around to face me.

"I bet you think I'm really strange for being this dressed up at this late of an hour. I bet you think I'm some high-end girl that goes clubbing every night," she said to me.

"That's not--" I began.

"That is," she cut me off.

"Look, I just didn't recognize you, that's all. I didn't mean to offend you by staring," I said.

"You didn't recognize me? What, do you know everyone in the world?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I do know everyone that comes in here to drink coffee," I replied. She raised both her eyebrows now.

"Is that so?" she asked. I nodded. I pointed to the man that was sitting in the corner of the cafe, with a set of large headphones on his head and a pen and notepad in front of him.

"That's Jim. He's an aspiring music producer and artist and has been trying to open his own production company for seven years now. He stays up all night writing his own music and lyrics, but no one appreciates his talent," I said. Then I pointed to the girl that was sitting by herself by the window at the door.

"That's Cindy. She's sixteen and lives with an abusive stepmother. She's a writer and likes to write dark fairytales about princesses never finding their true loves," I said.

The girl blinked, clearly impressed.

"How?" she asked.

"This place is like my second home," I said. She looked at me with those entrancing eyes of hers. I bet she had all the boys wrapped around her finger.

Then she sighed, averting her gaze.

"Is it a nice place?" she asked me, not looking at me anymore.

In that moment, I realized that this girl wasn't the perfect person she appeared to be.

"It is. But it's suffering," I replied. She looked outside the window into the black of the night, a distant look on her face.

"Aren't we all?" she asked in a quiet voice, as if forgetting I was still there and listening. Instead of responding, I looked down at my now empty cup of coffee.

"What's your name?" she asked, still not looking at me.

"Nicole," I replied.

"I'm Serena," she told me, turning her gaze back to me.

"Hi," I said lamely.

"Hi," she responded blankly. I looked at her to see her looking at me intently. I was about to say something, when she spoke up again.

"It's my 21st birthday today," she told me. Caught off-guard, I closed my mouth. What?

"Umm...well...happy birthday..." I said. A sad look fell over her face.

"Thanks," she said with a hollow laugh.

She looked at me, her pristine blue eyes unwaivering. There was something hidden behind those eyes of hers. She had gone through something horrible and she was lost. I felt a realization flood over me. Then I looked away, closing my book and putting it in my bag. I set some money and a tip on my table and balled up my napkin, standing up.

"You should try the Secret Chocolate Cheesecake," I recommended to her when I walked by.

As I walked past the cafe outside, I could see Serena still sitting by the window. She was looking outside, her light blue eyes luminescent. I wondered what had happened to this perfect looking girl to make her come to a hidden cafe like La Bonne on her birthday. We made eye-contact, the slightly tinted glass of the window of La Bonne separating us. I was the first to look away.

I stuffed my hands in the pockets of my light jacket, walking to wherever my feet took me. Serena's words rang through my mind as I walked through the night.

It's suffering.

Aren't we all?

_________________________________________________________________________

A/N: I was about to go to bed when I decided I would finish up the chapter. See how nice I am, sacrificing my sleep for your entertainment?

Don't expect another update until Thursday or Friday. I've got 3 exams this week. #fml

Yes, I realize this is another sad story. I'm sorry; I just love the tortured protagonist. I mean, who has a perfect life anyway? That's not realistic.

Sooo. Vote? Maybe? Yes? Same thing applies: the more you vote the faster I'll update and the longer I'll make the updates.

I'd love a comment or two, as well. Those always make me smile.

XOXO