Instinct Is A Bitch | An ArShi Fiction - Page 14

I hate people. I hate Starbucks. I hate life.

Khushi's morning had been splendid so far. Absolutely splendid. Tired from the previous day, she had snoozed her alarm at least three times before finally getting out of bed. Crust caked her eyes and drool dripped from the corners of her mouth and her hair resembled something far worse than a bird's nest.

At 4:30 in the morning it was hard to function much less walk without bumping into obstructions. With a stubbed big toe, a tear in her pajamas, and a rug burn, Khushi finally reached the damn bathroom. One look in the mirror and she knew why people compared her to trash.

Cold water poured out of the faucet and she wiped her face, getting rid of the crust and sticky drool. After smothering her face with cleanser, she brushed her teeth while tapping along with her morning music.

Showered, dressed, and fed, Khushi ran out of her tiny apartment. With no time to blow dry her hair and apply makeup, she looked and felt like a disaster. Not that it was a new thing.

She turned the key to start up her beloved gray, rusty Volkswagen Beetle. The petrol sign blinked rapidly and she groaned in annoyance. The one time she had allowed herself to oversleep, the damn car was out of petrol.

With not enough money or time to fill the car up with gasoline, Khushi got out and buttoned up her knee length coat. She briskly walked towards her own personal hell, already 3 minutes late.

Not even a minute had passed by before her boss started his daily lecture of employee attendance and commitment. With locked lips she nodded her head when needed and wore her uniform over her blank pants and shirt. The door ringed, signaling the arrival of the first customer. Great, the day had only just began.

Why employees had to interact with the customers was beyond Khushi's comprehension. In this technologically advanced world, it wouldn't be hard to set up a computer that computed all customer requests. After listening to a woman go on and on about her beloved cats, dodging the attempts of an overly touchy and flirty man, and pacifying rude customers with no patience, Khushi was ready to fill the complaints box. She would have been perfectly fine with mopping up the store and shelving new items, but her manager thought it was best to put her at the base of human interaction.

Exhaustion crept into her body, as overbearing customers kept piling into the little coffee shop. A man wearing a suit and sunglasses stepped up and she began her usual greeting.

"Welcome to Starbucks. How may I..." She trailed off when the man held up a finger to silence her. Great. Another guy who thought holding up the line was his right from birth.She tried to get his attention but he just ignored her. The least he could do was move out of the way while he finished his call. She kept shooting daggers at his back which should have scorched him by now.

Finally he ended the call and turned towards Khushi. She glared at him with ferocity that would send many running in fear. "Welcome to Starbucks. How may I help you?" She gritted out with an overly fake smile. The man stared at her with an intensity that tingled her spine. The look in his eyes reminded her of so much that fear began to build up inside of her. Her smile faltered and her hands began to shake at her sides; the confidence she once had was nonexistent.

She dropped her head down and quietly asked for his order. She only asked the necessary questions, avoiding his heated gaze. Once he payed the bill, she gestured for him to move to the area where he could collect his drink. She could feel his stare running up and down her body, undressing her with each glance. I'm not a freaking painting, stop staring you oaf!

Finally the overbearing man left the place and she breathed a sigh of relief. Her pounding heart began to slow down and return to normal beats. She grasped her water bottle and gulped down more than half of it, still feeling the heat circling in her body. The timer rang rather loudly, shaking Khushi out of her thoughts. Thank all the Gods in this world.Her ten minute break had begun.

***

She quietly sipped on her hot chocolate -complimentary benefits of being an employee- and curled up into a ball on the hard, wooden bench. She observed the people walking through the streets, they swarmed in and out. Layered with coats, hats, and gloves, the commuters were barely affected by the cold, harsh air.

She had once dreamed to be one of those commuters, rushing to reach their corporate jobs with briefcases and cups of coffee in hand. The Windy City was supposed to be her home, her safe haven specifically. All her life she had been studying and working towards Northwestern University, one of the top medical schools in the state.

She had wanted to become a doctor - a gynecologist. The thought of touching life at first sight amazed her, the soft, little cries music to her ears. She would have been able to do it. The scholarship was in her hand. She was almost there when she met him.

He made her believe that she didn't need to work because he was there for her. He promised that she would hear those soft, little cries when they had their own kids. He made her feel special, wanted, and loved. He corrupted her with gifts, dates, and hot kisses.

He ruined her.