Belle's life was adventureless. She was a nobody, and she longed for a direction or purpose for her life. What happens when she gets more than she bargained for after meeting four special people?
Chapter 1: Nobody but Me, How Sad.
"Order up!" the familiar voice rang from the midst of the turmoil that was the kitchens. Smells surrounded Anabelle Montgomry as she plunged into the commotions of chefs calling for ingredients, timers, and plates, the sounds of pots and pans clanking and minor bursts of flame every now and then.
"If I have to hear those two words again tonight Gerard..." Anabelle said warningly, with a hint of tiredness in her voice.
"Sorry luv," Gerard replied, pushing a steaming plate towards her over the steam counter and flipping a batch of onions in a sautÃ© pan, "But you've got another four hours left in your shift, you're going to hear it a lot more."
Anabelle nodded grimly and added the steaming plate to her already loaded tray. She stopped at the soda fountain to refill a glass on her way to one of her tables when she crossed paths with a fellow waitress.
"Belle, sweetie, your apron's twisting sideways, and you know if you get red sauce all over my beige pants I'll never let you borrow from my closet again." The girl said, watching Belle, as Anabelle was affectionately called, balance food on her tray whilst refilling sodas.
"Yeah, well considering we share the same closet Hannah, it'll be a tough resolution to stick to on your part." Belle replied to her fellow waitress, good friend, and roommate.
As Belle walked towards her table she let her mind drift away, as it so often did. She thought about the upcoming bills, wondered if she would be able to pay them in addition to her student loans, and also wondered what she would really do with her life. She was twenty years old, working part time and trying work her way through college. She was studying to become a lawyer, like her parents wanted her to, but deep down she still did not know what she was going to do with her life. She wanted to let her life take its own course. It sucked that she had to be in control of it. That she had to be so practical about her life. She had the impression that her life could be quite interesting if she just let it run away with her. But no. Her life was no adventure. She was a boring waitress, stuck with a boring job and a boring major in college. She was a nobody, and would always be a nobody. No TV station would ever interview her, would ever run a gossip piece on her. Nobody would care how she looked, if she was flawless or if she was a party girl or not. Nobody would notice her if she did a fashion don't. Well Hannah would notice, if she was around.
This is the part where we pause from the story to introduce our character's physical appearance. Belle dressed nicely enough, plainly, simply, but prettily. She wasn't big on the designer labels, but as Hannah's clothing consisted of many, she could often borrow off of her. At around five feet tall she was easily lost in a crowd, this made easier by her common straight brown hair that was usually, as it was now pulled up into an elegant twist on the back of her head. Her petite frame was often tilted sideways out of the habit of holding a serving tray wedged against her hip waist and resting over her hip bone.
And her mind was brought back to reality as she nearly crashed, tray first, into a small group of men who where being shown to a table by Samantha, the seating hostess.
"Careful there," One mumbled gruffly as he past her, side stepping to get past her.
"I'm sorry," She murmured, looking at her feet to hide the blush rising on her cheek, and stepping back to let the rest of the group pass her. She moved to her destination and began setting dishes in front of the patrons.
"Excuse me, miss." A man with a shiny bald head at the table said coldly, "But I'll have you know I had the chicken parmesan with the alfredo sauce, not the tomato."
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, sir. The kitchens must have made a mistake. I'll get that rectified for you straight away." Belle said, in the nicest voice she could muster.
She was walking back towards the kitchens carrying the plate, and not five feet away from the table yet when she heard the people at that table begin to talk,
"'Rectify that straight away.'" A woman said snootily to the bald man, "Such proper language," a diverse sort of snort, "who does she think she is?"
"Oh yes," the man agreed, "not her fault at all." Sarcasm dripped from every word, "It's the kitchens fault indeed! It wasn't them who took the order."
"I wouldn't tip her a dime." The woman concluded, making Belle's blood boil. It was not her fault that Patty had to take the night off! It was not her fault that she now had to work double the tables and keep all the orders right.
As she explained the situation to Gerard, who nodded understandingly, Hannah rushed over to her side, waiting impatiently for Belle to finish speaking.
"Thanks a lot Gerard..." Belle wrapped up the explanation to be immediately pulled away by Hannah towards a quieter corner of the kitchens.
"Belle, luvvie, Ben has just arrived with two tickets for a concert tonight and I've been dying to go for ages and....can you please cover for me?"
Hannah Crawford was Belle's age, in several of the same classes with her, her best friend, and helped pay for the house rent with Belle. She was also a bit more of party girl; often returning home from the latest clubs after being dropped off by the latest boy. That was the thing about Hannah. She was pretty, light-blonde with hazel eyes, a tall frame, not too thin, but not overly curvaceous. If she walked into a club, within five minutes she'd be off again with some guy or another. Not that she was a slut. She just had some sort of subconscious thing about being single. She simply had an air of popularity about her that caused people to flock to her and Ben was the current flavor of the week. Hannah was also always on the go. Always going off somewhere, while not the world's greatest adventure story, she did at least have some spice in her life.
Belle sighed at her friend's request. She never said 'no'. But she always tried.
"Hannah, I'm always covering for you, but tonight....it's just I'm already working double the tables because Patty is gone."
"Belle, please." Hannah pleaded, her eyes reaching out in a plea for this charity, "I swear I'll pay for the cable this month, and I'll give you a quarter of my pay check! And I'll lend you that new baby-doll top that even I haven't worn yet!"
"Alright, alright, I'll cover for you, what are the table numbers?" Belle gave in.
Hannah quickly scribbled down the table numbers that she was working and handed over order information.
"Thanks, I owe you, you're such a dear! Oh and table twelve has been seated for ten minutes now and I haven't had a chance to take drink orders or anything, so can you get to them first? That would be great...."
Belle sighed. There was a good reason the tables were numbered, but with the way Hannah was always handing off tables to her, she just couldn't think of what that reason was yet.
"Um...since I can't use the 'order' word or the 'up' word," Gerard grinned from behind Belle with the fresh plate for Bald Man, "I'll just tell you 'Food Prepared'"
Belle laughed half heartedly, "You always make me feel better."
"I try, you're always so stressed." He waved her out of the kitchen.
The Bald Man and Pointy-Nosed Woman looked up at her expectantly as Belle walked towards them.
"Here you go, sir, I'm so sorry about that, honestly, the kitchens have been a bit unreliable today; we're understaffed today, you see. Can I get you anything else?" She said politely.
"Thank you," the man said coldly, and Belle took that as her cue to leave and head over to table number twelve.
"Hello, I'm Anabelle, I'll be your server for this evening. Here is some bread and butter for you to start on and I'd like to tell you about tonight's specials." She listed off the details of the night's specials. "Can I get you anything to drink while you decide? Water, soda, wine...." She finished her normal spiel to the table before realizing that they were the group that she nearly ran over earlier. Apparently one of the men recognized her too.
"Oh hi, it's you." He said, but instead of sounding terribly cold about the earlier encounter, he instead sounded light hearted, and rather amused.
Fuck , Belle thought to herself, fuck, now they think I'm an idiot. She felt a small blush rise again to her cheeks, but she didn't know why she should blush. But she did. She was always nervous around...people...around her own age. Her peers, especially peer guys, scared her shitless.
He, the one she nearly ran over, was peering at her over his square, red-rimmed glasses, probably because she was rather silent and looking a little awkward. His staring only made it worse.
"Okay well I'd like some water," one of Red-rimmed glasses' companions said, breaking a silence, "and a diet-coke please." He was cute, a bit of a childishly round face and tummy: unless she was very much mistaken he was literally the 'baby' of the group. Short ruffled brown hair, good-natured blue-grey eyes, and brilliantly white teeth.
How the hell does he keep those teeth so white?
Belle found herself thinking, "Alright," She said out loud, jotting down the order on her notepad, "and for you?" She turned to a man with a dark brown beard and a shaggy haircut, wearing a plain white t-shirt and flip flops. He looked a little older than the others, by maybe a year or two, and he certainly looked the most mature and relaxed.
Not bad, not bad. He looks a bit familiar though... was her internal comment.
"I'll have a beer please," He said, "'cause Ryan is driving, and I trust his abilities behind the wheel more than Bren's."
Belle stared. What the hell? "Um...okay then!" She said, turning to a skinny boy, with a truly vile yellow scarf and slightly greasy looking hair, "for you?"
Damn boy, eat! Was the only thought running through her head as she observed the boy and waited for his drink order. Honestly! He was skinnier than her, and she was already rather petite.
"I'll have water, please, and His car keys," the boy said moodily, nodding at the flip-flopped man as he spoke the last part.
Belle nodded, writing all of it down before turning to the last man. Red-rimmed glasses man.
"Oh...I'll have a Red Bull please?" He asked hopefully, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"I'm sorry, sir, we only have," and her was where her automatic pilot kicked in, "Coke, Diet coke, sprite, root beer, Mr. Pibb, lemonade, strawberry lemonade, iced tea, flavored iced tea, milk, chocolate milk, a variety of juices, and alcoholic drinks from our bar." She said in one, long, monotonous breath.
"Oh." He said, his thick eyebrows scrunched together in a half pout, and a half thoughtful expression, "Well...then...." He was still thinking, you could tell, "I guess....um....I'll go with a...um.........lemonade?" He said finally.
"Alright so that's one diet-coke, two waters-"
"Water for everyone please," Interrupted flip-flop man,
"One diet-coke, one beer, one lemonade, and four waters?" Belle corrected herself.
"Mhm," Was the general consensus.
"Great, I'll be right back with those then."
Something bugged her about them. They were too normal. And there was something familiar about them.
"Hey Gerd" Belle often ran the syllables of Gerard's name together so that it sounded a bit like "Jerk" only with the 'D' ending instead of the 'K', "Take a look," She pulled him away from the kitchen, "at number twelve. Do you know them? Are they like...gangsters after your sorry ass? Because they look familiar." She just had to know, and just couldn't place them.
"Belle, luv," Gerard said slowly, disbelievingly, and as if talking to a small child, "how can you not know them?" Gerard said, his eyes going wide.
A/N: Yes i'm still working on It Was Just for the Experience, but i needed to work on something new and exciting XD wooooo.
Also I highly recommend stories by Meeniemoe (Because she is my inspiration xD and because her stories just rock)
Also please show your support for Meg2005 who recently had one of her stories plagarized. Her stories are awesome and it's a shame that someone stooped so low as to pass her wonderful and hard work off as their own. it's not cool at all. Check out her work.
Don't plagarize kiddies, it ain't cool. It's illegal.
Also I want to throw a little shout out to Lizzard because 1) i love her stories and 2) she gave me an awesome review that made me feel like writting was worth while.
Is that not incentive to review lovies? no? how about these cookies then XD!