#cap.start

In typical Florida fashion, the afternoon brought an onslaught of rain and thunder and everything Mitch hated about the weather. The rain meant no sunshine- no pool, no girls in skimpy bikinis, and definitely no fun. While Florida had so many similarities to California, this was by far his least favorite difference. Mitch stood outside the local coffee shop, his arms wrapped tight around his soaked frame as he’d just gotten caught in the sudden downpour. He shivered and glared out at the puddles pooling by the sidewalk, “I fucking hate this place- what’s with this weather?” He glared harder and barely held back a jump of surprise from a large crack of thunder, “Los Angeles never gets weather like this. I didn’t sign up for this bullshit. Mitch fucking King deserves nothing but the best and this is right shit.” 

𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨 📨  open

“okay, the day’s way too beautiful now to spend it cooped up inside any longer.” isaiah commented, looking out the window. he had spent most of the morning chilling inside with a friend but had eventually grown sick of the same scenery once the hours had passed. the rain had cleared up, leaving sunny skies behind that only made the urge that isaiah had to get out grow even more, and he intended to take advantage of that. “why don’t we go swimming,” he turned to look at his friend. “i could rent a yacht and invite some people? have a little party on the water? what do you think?”

“I know Florida is known for its thunderstorms, but I’ll admit I never thought they could get this bad. This is probably the worst one I’ve seen since I moved here,” Natalie mused to the person sitting next to her, clutching her coffee cup in her hands to keep them warm against the cold rain. “I wish I had thought to bring my umbrella.”

        at the sound of the bell, silas’s head automatically jerks up, a pavlovian response to the idea of NEW CUSTOMER. but then he glances at the clock, frowns, and realizes that it’s well after 5 pm. he’s closed. at least, he thought he was. he must’ve forgotten to flip the lock. “ we’re closed, ” he calls out, reapeating his own thoughts loudly enough that he doesn’t have to turn around from where he’s carefully placing leftover profiteroles in a small pastry box. “ come back tomorrow. we open at 6, bright and early; i’m sure you’ll survive until then. ”

         “Did you know it takes from 50-100 cups of coffee to make the caffeine a lethal dose?” Lukas spoke aloud, quite suddenly, as if snapping from his reverie. Sure enough the culprit cup of iced coffee was sitting in his hands, more than half way done, and the bags beneath his eyes testified to how tired he looked. Or how much he needed it. After a long moment the signature grin appeared on his face, he turned to his company, “I think I’m on cup 49.”

JUDE: i need a drink