O N E
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Getting a job at Mornings was probably the best thing that ever happened in my life.

I was working there for not even a day and I already met Frypan, one of the most talented cooks I knew. Now we were closer and took up orders every morning. We cooked and baked (he cooked and I baked), gossiped, and had fun.

For the first time in my life, I felt safe and happy. Mornings was a small, yet popular cafe in our town. There was a simple bar where all my—and other bakers'— food was stocked. A cash register stood on top of it. Behind the white door was the kitchen. A few white tables with either red couches or chairs were divided all over the cafe. It was a nice place to be, after all the awful things I went through. 

And twice a week, on Wednesday mornings and Friday middays to be exact, Frypan's friends visited. The cook would join them, so I would take their orders and deliver the food and drinks.

I didn't know their names. I didn't exactly know what they were like. All I registered was a tall, blonde boy, an Asian one, and a brown-haired one. Sometimes a few others I hadn't really inspected joined, too. They always seemed to have so much fun it nearly made me jealous.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

A hand on my shoulder caused me to flinch and almost drop the bowl in my hands. Startled, I turned my head, meeting Frypan's warm eyes. He smiled at me.

He was a big guy, but not scary. His face gave off how kind he was. He was dark-skinned with perfect teeth, a nice smile, and a bit chubby, which made him even more lovely.

"Hey." He greeted.

"Hi." I smiled back at him. "Need something?"

"Just need you to move a bit. Ya know, my Gladers are here." He explained, his hand still on my shoulder.

I nodded fast. "Oh, of course." Moving out of the way, I once again frowned at their group name. Frypan gave me a last smile before he joined his friends.

Today, they brought a duo I didn't remember seeing before. A gorgeous, black-haired girl, who's face was tall and clothes white. Next to her sat a tired-looking boy. The cap of his hoodie clasped around his head until the familiar Asian slapped it off.

It took me something not to stare at them. I kept ignoring that urge in my stomach. The urge to have more than one friend too. The urge to join them.

"Quinn, put them in the oven and take up orders." The boss ordered. He motioned at the cupcakes in front of me. I nodded again, quickly finishing the job he told me to do before I took up the orders.

Bouncing up and down on my heels, I stood in front of the 'Gladers'. "Morning." I mostly looked at Frypan. "What can I get for you?"

The Asian was the first to speak up, as always. And also as always, I knew exactly what he was going to order.

An Oreo milkshake with a lot of whipped cream.

He didn't bother to look up much, just continued his talk with the girl. "An Oreo shake with some whipped cream." He said without even looking at me.

"Please." The British blonde added before he turned his baby-face to me. His blonde hair was messy again, smile kind and slim arms stretched over the couch. "A vanilla milkshake, please."

"You know they have chocolate chip cookies too now, right?" The brunette glanced up from his fidgeting with the menu card. "I know you like 'em."

"Indeed I do." He nodded. "Sorry. No milkshake, just the cookies, please."

"Got it." I typed it on the device in my hands. "What else?"

They made their next choices and soon it was time for me to leave. Before I disappeared into the kitchen, I gave them one last glare. A map was rolled open on the table now. The Asian was pointing everywhere and the brunette marked spots. Wondering what they were doing, I got their milkshakes ready.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The minute I left Mornings, my stomach twisted. The streets were empty and cold compared to how hot these days were, since summer vacation was about to start.

I felt unsafe walking around on my own. Scared that someone would touch me. That I would see him.

Shivers went down my spine. When I passed a grinning, homeless man, my walk sped up even more. The back of my shoes, which were heeled slightly, hit the ground repeatedly, echoing through the neighborhood.

I was lucky my apartment wasn't far. I rushed into the white building, went up the elevator, and unlocked the door, finding my mother on the couch right away.

She was asleep on the red material, an empty bottle of wine in her hands and a few beers spread everywhere else.

The apartment wasn't big. In the middle was a couch with a fireplace and small table in the front. On the other side of the room a tiny kitchen with just a sink and a few counters. The bathroom was held apart. A mini shower and toilet.

My mother slept on the only bed we had. It was a small one, with the sheets tossed everywhere. I slept on the couch, with just a thin blanket.

It wasn't much, but just enough. I was grateful to at least have something.

After tossing away all the beer bottles, I noticed the white envelope in front of the door. It didn't take long for me to rip it open and read, sighing through it all.

Quinn,

This is the last time I will give this to you. Get your mother to a clinic or something. Don't waste it.

And I knew exactly who it was from. My father, who had left for some stupid affair when I was five. Once a month he gave us some money, but apparently this would be the last time.

And that was awful.

I would have to work so many extra hours to pay the bills, to get food and buy proper clothes. My mother didn't do anything. She just hung around the house drunk and crazy all the time.

My mind always went back to a certain person when I had these problems. I hated him, yet I couldn't get over him. Things would end badly if I decided to visit him, even when all I did was ask for a little help.

While rubbing my forehead, I stepped into the bathroom, looking in the mirror above the sink. My blonde hair was in a high-ponytail, as always. It was a rule at work and I didn't mind, so kept it at home too, most of the time.

Green eyes stared back at me. Rosey cheeks and lips, yet they were thin. I washed my hands before changing out of the red apron, white shirt, and black jeans.

Once I was all done to get to bed, I hopelessly tried to wake my mother up. She was a tall woman, with slim legs. Her blonde hair was now greasy, clumpy, and falling out. There was nothing left of the beautiful woman she once was.

Wrinkles spread in her face and when sometimes she opened her eyes, the happy twinkle was gone and all you could see was emptiness.

After dragging her onto her bed desperately, I threw away all the drinks. Our house was a mess. Dirty dishes everywhere, bottles that kept growing into more, and dust.

I had not time to clean it. Work, work, work, that was my schedule. Sleep a few hours, get some groceries, but most of the time I only gave my mother food and ate some at Mornings myself.

Problem with our money was, my mother kept spending it on alcohol. What could I do to stop it? Nothing.

She wouldn't do the groceries for herself and her kid, but she was able to buy drinks, awesome.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

A/N: First chapter!! I hope you enjoyed it, let me know what you think :) It might be a bit boring at first, sorry!

Couldn't wait to publish it already, aha. Oh, and by the way, I forgot to mention this in the information, but if a chapter contains any of the trigger warnings, I'll always mention this before.

x Vera