Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Tricks of the Trade
Starbucks can be a cozy enough coffee shop, depending on which store you decide to go to. The stores you would actually want to go to are usually pleasant orange colors with soft red and possibly yellow- or olive and various other darker greens, mixed in with black, occasionally pea-soup colored, or brown.
These are all, of course, normal colors for a restraint to choose when designing it's interior if it's going for a nice, semi-vibrant and relaxed atmosphere where someone would want to stop in for a quick cup of Joe, or to use the complimentary internet access. An most important, how could you think I'd forgotten, was the coffee, naturally.
In this particular Starbucks, Deacon, the barista and his counter of supplies was located just inside the front doors, convenient for a quick stop. But if you decide to stay for a while, in that specific Starbucks, on either side of Deacon's counter, were lounges. One of them had a nice fireplace, but both had olive couches with an array of green brown and black pillows, and of course, light brown coffee tables. They are quite lovely, a wonderful place to relax and drink coffee in peace, undisturbed by the world, able to think peacefully about whatever happens to plague your mind.
The shop is dimly lit- once again adding to the comfortable and slightly mysterious atmosphere that practically radiates off the building. The huge semi-tinted glass windows add to the effect, as well as the angrily storming skies, brutally spitting out rain. But then, rain isn't uncommon in New Jersey. Rain is to be expected on the East Coast.
There are half pulled down half closed dark brown wooden blinds, and the OPEN! sign had been lit up not even an hour ago when Gerard saw someone vaguely familiar meander into the store. He almost overlooked the short boy- he was so different from the brown slicked back haired photo he had gotten. It took him a moment to realizer that it was his target, that it was Frank. All he could do was stare from his car, where he'd been patiently waiting the arrival of the boy that must be Frank, the boy that contradicted his school picture so much.
It was the facial structure and height that caught my mistake in thinking him someone else. He has a firm jawline, reasonably high cheekbones, pale flawless skin that almost makes my mouth water. His hair was not the horrible slick brown anymore, either, The sides are short and bleached white, like white, not blond or something of that ilk. The top of his head was black, and short in the back and all the way to his bangs which were longer, curling into his face, flowing down to around the bottom of his ear, and pushed over by his right ear, but not hiding behind it.
This was all amazing, don't get him wrong, but Gerard hasn't even gotten to the best parts. Frank's eyes, for example, are a deep chocolate brown, flecked with a deep green that changes with the light, completing the hazel color to perfection. Smudged eyeliner, too, giving more definition to his amazingly bright and happy eyes.
On his pale and beautiful neck, having just the perfect adam's apple, is a tattooed scorpion, adding to the rebellious air he carries so well. What his neck is attached to is beautiful, too, even though Gerard can only see it through a black misfits shirt and equally dark Avenged Sevenfold hoodie. Sticking out, just barely, from his long sleeves, are pale hands, one clutching a black computer bag, is written "H-A-LL-O" and "W-E-E-N", no doubt meant to be put together into the glorious holiday of Halloween, also his target's birthday.
Gerard almost forget he was on a job, watching Frank, feeling like more of a stalker than ever. He just couldn't look away from the way Frank's muscular, black skinny jean clad legs carry him to the Starbucks quickly, trying to escape the rain. Gerard feel a slight bit of sadness as the black framed glass door closes behind him. Then he remember that he should be right behind Frank.
Gerard gets out of his warm, black mustang, putting on his best I-just-woke-up act, walking a bit slowly and unstably towards the Starbucks he'd been watching like a hawk, pretending to be like a sloth, being the wolf in sheep's clothing he is.
Gerard walks, well, does his best impersonation of a turtle, into the Starbucks, so "tired" he walks into a certain Frank Iero, who's chatting to the female barista. Deacon must be off work today.
Walking into someone while tired isn't that unusual, but what was most unexpected is the feeling stirring deep in his body- the flips of his stomach, the flutter of his heart. It's not right, something unusual and unnamable is happening.
"Oh…Sorry…Didn't see you." Gerard mutters, stepping out of the smaller man's back. Said man laughs, turning around.
"No problem, ma-" His voice catches once he gets a look at me, glancing me over. All over. Gerard notes the obvious intelligence in Frank's eyes, he's got no lack of a brain, but he doesn't seem extraordinarily muscular, and I'm once again wondering why The Council wants such a nice seeming man dead. He hardly seems dangerous.
He swallows hard, like he's trying to digest a knew piece of knowledge, a discovery of great interest. "I'm getting a mocha. Want anything?" He offers, and Gerard can't help but giggle at the girly choice, aware that his wasn't much better.
"I'll get a caramel Latte, please." Gerard smiled, his sleepiness suddenly cured.
Frank grined at Gerard. "Nice choice."
Frank payed for both of their coffees, much to Gerard's protest, and soon they're sitting down together, chatting in one of the olive couches by the fireplace, getting to know each other, not that Gerard didn't know Frank. But he was still interested, and hearing all the facts he knows said so passionately by the other was amazing.
He looked out at the rain, sighing. "Do you think it'll rain all day?" Gerard asked.
Frank laughed. "Who knows! The weather here is so bipolar it's not even funny!" He joked, scooting closer to the taller man. Gerard smiled at him, no longer just playing a part, just genuinely happy to talk to someone besides Bob. It's good to be around other people, Gerard realized. It's not just because Frank is super mega foxy awesome hot or anything. Naw, not that.
"So… did I stop you from any intense internet searching?" Gerard asked Frank, pointing to the black computer case laid out on the table.
"Oh, no. I was just going to do some…Stuff. Nothing of importance." He smiles at Gerard, and Gerard can tell Frank's lying when his eyes flicked around the room when he said the word 'stuff'.
Gerard nodded. "Yeah, I get it. Just stuff." Gerard really hates the word 'stuff'. It's too general to be useful, it's a word heGerard would happily eliminate from everyone else's vocabulary.
After a while Frank has to go to work. "Can I have your number?" He asks Gerard. Gerard nods, giving Frank his number, and as a prize, collecting Frank's number in return.
Chapter 2 END
Love_it_or_Leave_it, you really need to Email me honey. Can't get working without it.
Everyone else: What did you think? I liked it, the drama will begin... in a couple chapters or so xD
Review! It makes us fangirls light up and go all... all.. fangasmic!
Just review. Please? Let us know we're not shit.
These are all, of course, normal colors for a restraint to choose when designing it's interior if it's going for a nice, semi-vibrant and relaxed atmosphere where someone would want to stop in for a quick cup of Joe, or to use the complimentary internet access. An most important, how could you think I'd forgotten, was the coffee, naturally.
In this particular Starbucks, Deacon, the barista and his counter of supplies was located just inside the front doors, convenient for a quick stop. But if you decide to stay for a while, in that specific Starbucks, on either side of Deacon's counter, were lounges. One of them had a nice fireplace, but both had olive couches with an array of green brown and black pillows, and of course, light brown coffee tables. They are quite lovely, a wonderful place to relax and drink coffee in peace, undisturbed by the world, able to think peacefully about whatever happens to plague your mind.
The shop is dimly lit- once again adding to the comfortable and slightly mysterious atmosphere that practically radiates off the building. The huge semi-tinted glass windows add to the effect, as well as the angrily storming skies, brutally spitting out rain. But then, rain isn't uncommon in New Jersey. Rain is to be expected on the East Coast.
There are half pulled down half closed dark brown wooden blinds, and the OPEN! sign had been lit up not even an hour ago when Gerard saw someone vaguely familiar meander into the store. He almost overlooked the short boy- he was so different from the brown slicked back haired photo he had gotten. It took him a moment to realizer that it was his target, that it was Frank. All he could do was stare from his car, where he'd been patiently waiting the arrival of the boy that must be Frank, the boy that contradicted his school picture so much.
It was the facial structure and height that caught my mistake in thinking him someone else. He has a firm jawline, reasonably high cheekbones, pale flawless skin that almost makes my mouth water. His hair was not the horrible slick brown anymore, either, The sides are short and bleached white, like white, not blond or something of that ilk. The top of his head was black, and short in the back and all the way to his bangs which were longer, curling into his face, flowing down to around the bottom of his ear, and pushed over by his right ear, but not hiding behind it.
This was all amazing, don't get him wrong, but Gerard hasn't even gotten to the best parts. Frank's eyes, for example, are a deep chocolate brown, flecked with a deep green that changes with the light, completing the hazel color to perfection. Smudged eyeliner, too, giving more definition to his amazingly bright and happy eyes.
On his pale and beautiful neck, having just the perfect adam's apple, is a tattooed scorpion, adding to the rebellious air he carries so well. What his neck is attached to is beautiful, too, even though Gerard can only see it through a black misfits shirt and equally dark Avenged Sevenfold hoodie. Sticking out, just barely, from his long sleeves, are pale hands, one clutching a black computer bag, is written "H-A-LL-O" and "W-E-E-N", no doubt meant to be put together into the glorious holiday of Halloween, also his target's birthday.
Gerard almost forget he was on a job, watching Frank, feeling like more of a stalker than ever. He just couldn't look away from the way Frank's muscular, black skinny jean clad legs carry him to the Starbucks quickly, trying to escape the rain. Gerard feel a slight bit of sadness as the black framed glass door closes behind him. Then he remember that he should be right behind Frank.
Gerard gets out of his warm, black mustang, putting on his best I-just-woke-up act, walking a bit slowly and unstably towards the Starbucks he'd been watching like a hawk, pretending to be like a sloth, being the wolf in sheep's clothing he is.
Gerard walks, well, does his best impersonation of a turtle, into the Starbucks, so "tired" he walks into a certain Frank Iero, who's chatting to the female barista. Deacon must be off work today.
Walking into someone while tired isn't that unusual, but what was most unexpected is the feeling stirring deep in his body- the flips of his stomach, the flutter of his heart. It's not right, something unusual and unnamable is happening.
"Oh…Sorry…Didn't see you." Gerard mutters, stepping out of the smaller man's back. Said man laughs, turning around.
"No problem, ma-" His voice catches once he gets a look at me, glancing me over. All over. Gerard notes the obvious intelligence in Frank's eyes, he's got no lack of a brain, but he doesn't seem extraordinarily muscular, and I'm once again wondering why The Council wants such a nice seeming man dead. He hardly seems dangerous.
He swallows hard, like he's trying to digest a knew piece of knowledge, a discovery of great interest. "I'm getting a mocha. Want anything?" He offers, and Gerard can't help but giggle at the girly choice, aware that his wasn't much better.
"I'll get a caramel Latte, please." Gerard smiled, his sleepiness suddenly cured.
Frank grined at Gerard. "Nice choice."
Frank payed for both of their coffees, much to Gerard's protest, and soon they're sitting down together, chatting in one of the olive couches by the fireplace, getting to know each other, not that Gerard didn't know Frank. But he was still interested, and hearing all the facts he knows said so passionately by the other was amazing.
He looked out at the rain, sighing. "Do you think it'll rain all day?" Gerard asked.
Frank laughed. "Who knows! The weather here is so bipolar it's not even funny!" He joked, scooting closer to the taller man. Gerard smiled at him, no longer just playing a part, just genuinely happy to talk to someone besides Bob. It's good to be around other people, Gerard realized. It's not just because Frank is super mega foxy awesome hot or anything. Naw, not that.
"So… did I stop you from any intense internet searching?" Gerard asked Frank, pointing to the black computer case laid out on the table.
"Oh, no. I was just going to do some…Stuff. Nothing of importance." He smiles at Gerard, and Gerard can tell Frank's lying when his eyes flicked around the room when he said the word 'stuff'.
Gerard nodded. "Yeah, I get it. Just stuff." Gerard really hates the word 'stuff'. It's too general to be useful, it's a word heGerard would happily eliminate from everyone else's vocabulary.
After a while Frank has to go to work. "Can I have your number?" He asks Gerard. Gerard nods, giving Frank his number, and as a prize, collecting Frank's number in return.
Chapter 2 END
Love_it_or_Leave_it, you really need to Email me honey. Can't get working without it.
Everyone else: What did you think? I liked it, the drama will begin... in a couple chapters or so xD
Review! It makes us fangirls light up and go all... all.. fangasmic!
Just review. Please? Let us know we're not shit.
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