mocha

Name: Mocha Chino Nickanmes: N/A Age: 21 Height: 5′3″ Sexuality: Bisexual

Toby should have known that Mocha would be chill about the whole thing, but that didn’t make him feel any less bad. Alice in the hospital or not, he knew he could have handled some of the situation better than he did. At the end of the day, Toby really did like Mocha, and didn’t wanna screw it up with her, whether it was just as friends or more. They’d kissed at the ball, but he had no idea how she was feeling about him since that night. Not only that, he wasn’t even sure thinking about dating or relationships was the best thing for him right now. Regardless, seeing how nice she was being was reassuring. “It’s alright, she’s .. She’s doing better now, I think..” He trailed off, a smile forming as she offered him some coffee. “Yeah, t-that’d be great, actually. Thanks.”

~

     It was a relief to hear that she was pulling through, both for the girl herself and for his own peace of mind—even if their romantic relationship had ended for whatever reason, Mocha imagined that he still cared very deeply about his ex and would be heartbroken if the worst came to pass. Mocha had never been in such a serious relationship before, but her heart was sensitive couldn’t help but reach out to another in pain. She wasn’t going to pry for any more information than Toby wanted to provide on his own, so she just got up, said, “I’ll be back in a blink,” and headed to the counter for two fresh cups of coffee. When she got back to the table, she passed him his drink and then wrapped both hands around her own mug. “Was that all you wanted to talk about? Any other news in Tweedle-town?”

Troy had noticed she had a nice smile from afar, but talking to her up close and in person only made that more obvious. Though he had no intentions of flirting with the brunette or trying to make a move, he still couldn’t help but appreciate things about her he’d noticed each time he came to an open mic night.

His smile didn’t falter, nodding his head as a silent you’re welcome. “I can respect that,” he played along. “Don’t worry, I won’t ask for a selfie, either. But .. I will properly introduce myself,” he chuckled, holding his hand out to shake hers. “I’m Troy.”

~

     “Troy,” she repeated, ensuring that the name would stick in her brain as she reached out and took his hand, the smile still on her face. There really was nothing like coffee and poetry to bring two strangers together, she mused—and turn them into them strangers no longer. “I’m Mocha.”

     It was interesting to her that he had claimed to be neither a poet nor a fan of the medium in particular, yet was inspired by her talent. It seemed to her that he had to have some kind of artistic streak himself. “So, what do you do, if poetry isn’t your passion?” she asked.

Kid? Tj scrunched his nose a bit at the word as it lingered in the air. “I mean unless you’re going to be walking around with a cane, I don’t think I’m really… a kid. Tj works though, I’ve heard it’s a pretty great name or something.” Looking around he nodded. “Can’t say I’m a regular, but it’s so far been an adventure? saved the day with your pen. What’s the best drink around here? Like.. coffee or is it more of a hot tea vibe?” 

~

     “It wasn’t personal,” Mocha assured him as he took offense to her calling him kid, a wry smile on her lips. She supposed if the guy really preferred his given name, she’d also stay away from nicknames like cat and daddy-o as she was wont to use. “TJ, then,” she said, pointing her rescued pen at herself and giving her own introduction. “I’m Mocha. Which is coincidentally the drink you wanna try—but don’t take my word for it.”

Perhaps Toby shouldn’t have been so nervous to talk to Mocha, for as soon as she spoke to him, he felt himself immediately relax. He really couldn’t help it, though — it wasn’t Mocha at all that made him nervous, but Alice. She didn’t even have to be present to get Toby on edge, anxious to fill Mocha in on everything now that he’d had awhile to process it. He could have left the brunette high and dry with no explanation, but he wasn’t that sort of guy. He knew Mocha deserved more than that.

He didn’t hesitate to take a seat as she offered, huffing a sigh as if to release some of the excess nerves that were still lingering. “Yeah, it’s been a crazy couple of weeks..” He admitted, scratching the back of his neck anxiously. “Uh.. First, I just wanted to apologize for how weird I’ve been, especially on New Years. You deserved a way better night than that, and .. I’m also sorry that I dropped from the face of the earth afterwards. I …” He paused, mouth feeling dry as he grew closer to admitting what happened with his ex. “I found out, after the ball, that my ex was in the hospital, so it was .. a lot to process.” He shook his head as he continued, “But I know that doesn’t excuse the way I’ve been acting. I think that you’re a really cool friend, and I’d hate for that to change because of me being stupid.”

~

    Mocha was already ready to shrug the whole ordeal off and forgive him for being less than the ideal date on New Years; it didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. She’d still managed to have a decent time that night, and she hadn’t really expected things to go anywhere with him, so him being focused on his ex girlfriend lately wasn’t a deal—though it would have been nice if he’d still dropped by as a friend during that time. Hearing that said ex was in the hospital, however, put things into perspective, and she felt nothing but sympathetic toward Toby, her smile having transformed into a frown at some point as he spoke.

     “Hey, there’s no need to apologize to me,” she said, holding her palms up and shaking her head. “I’m sorry to hear about your used-to-be, man. That must have been hard for you...Do you want a cup of java? It’s on me.”

Thumper really liked Bean Scene. There were plenty of other cafes and coffee shops in Walt Grove but none compared to the relaxed mood at his particular one. The music was soothing and the clientele were creators just like himself. As the girl handed him a pen he smiled and said, “thank you.” Her question caught him a little off guard but he didn’t hide his notebook from her and shook his head. “Not a poet, no. A musician though. I was working on a song I’ve been trying to write. My brain is all over the place though and I’m just trying to focus. I respect the creative process of a poet though. To write something so beautiful without a melody is talent. Are you a poet yourself?”

~

    “What is a lyricist if not a poet who gives meaning to a melody?” Mocha countered, tilting her head at his assertion that he wasn’t one himself. In her opinion, poets came in all sorts of packages, not just the classics typically found on shelves. Anyone who played with words could claim the label for themselves. The line between music and spoken word was thin, one only missing instrumentation—after all, poetry has rhythm and meter. She nodded as she questioned whether she was a poet herself, answering, “I perform here most nights. Sorry to hear you’re having trouble focusing; most people find Bean Scene a good place for both creative juice and java to flow.”

Troy still hadn’t worked up the courage to talk to the intriguing brunette he’d noticed one day at the Bean Scene, soon becoming a regular that liked to listen to her poetry readings. Her words were beautiful, and she seemed so down to earth and interesting, but far from Troy’s league. Besides, his head had been preoccupied with thoughts of Sharpay more and more lately. That didn’t stop him from continuing to come to the poetry readings, though, still finding her work to be inspiring.

He was surprised when Mocha approached him after she had just finished at the mic, a smile immediately forming as she spoke to him. “Not at all, be my guest,” he replied, motioning to the seat. “Actually, neither. At least, I don’t think so,” he admitted with an awkward chuckle. “Honestly, I just happened to hear you up there one night and was inspired. You’re really talented.”

~

     Mocha cocked her head, eyebrow raised as he admitted that he wasn’t here as a poet or lover of spoken word himself, but just because he had heard her work and been inspired to come back for more. That was wildly flattering, even more so because the guy seemed genuine in his compliment, not like he was just using a line or trying to flirt. That was honestly rare from a straight, white guy these days.

     “Thanks,” she replied, a surprised smile on her lips. She could be entirely confident in her own writing and still feel humbled by praise. To break the ice further, she teased, “Sorry to disappoint a fan, but I don’t do autographs.; they’re so...gauche.”

@tweedledumtoby

     She’d seen him come into Bean Scene often enough that she thought of him as a semi-regular, but despite attending her poetry readings frequently and the clear interest that sparkled in his eyes each time, the guy had never approached the stage on an open mic night. Mocha’s curiosity was piqued enough that one night, after finishing her set, she made her way over to his table. “Is this seat taken?” she asked, not waiting for an answer as she pulled out the chair across from where he sat and claimed it for herself in one fluid motion. “So, are you a poet or just an aficionado?”