#*fairly

Austin hardly remembers the customers that come into the shop. Only a few might stick out at the end of the day, but that’s it. He forgets them the next time he comes into work, and he never bothers to try and remember them, or remember the name he scribbled onto their cup.

But then, he shows up. A fairly young guy, definitely not older than Austin, comes running into the shop, tripping over words as if he’s in a rush, guitar case clutched tightly in his hand as if he has somewhere he needs to be, and when Austin picks his gaze up after taking note of his order, writing ‘Shawn’ down on the cup, he has to pause for a moment. This guy is adorable – with brown hair sticking up perfectly, all even and nicely styled, and a cute smile and youthful face to match – and Austin can feel his heartbeat picking up. He snaps out of his daze to fill the guy’s order, those brown eyes still edged into his mind.

He then returns to the counter, handing the guy his order with an added scripted line, “Have a nice day.” The guy smiles, thanking Austin, before sitting down at a table by himself, sipping on his coffee.

It’s that night when Austin realizes the guy came back, his guitar now out and in hand, and then he’s onstage, singing during the shop’s weekly ‘Open Mic Night’, and that’s when Austinmelts. He nearly trips over his own two feet afterward, ripping his apron off before introducing himself to the guy, recalling having to write the guy’s name on his cup when he introduces himself as well.

“You have a nice voice.” Austin says, his cheeks turning red afterward. The guy – Shawn – chuckles, thanking him for the compliment.