☕︎ Chapter 1- Mystery Boy☕︎[Old Version]

                          ☕︎ Bailee ☕︎

"Thank you for referring us to the Dark Fest Coffee Shop. Please have a nice weekend ma'am" declared Mrs. Susan Quinn, smiling at the young lady at the exit door. 

It was time to latch the shop for the evening after the last customer.  Mrs. Quinn and I start to put the items away and put the open sign to close. So, no customer would have to come at the last minute before closing. This happens a lot which makes Mrs. Quinn bothered by the complaints from customers. 

And, I, am not always there to help her. While her husband is in the hospital recovering from his surgery from a motorcycle accident. She told me not to worry about it, yet she felt so lonely without him. 

"Bailee dear, may you wipe down the tables and take out the trash then you can go home after that. Don't you have a test on Monday?" She remains me, peeking through the corner, smiling as she has always been. 

"Of course, Susan!" I uttered shyly, smiling awkwardly. She chuckles at my silliness, which made me flush in embarrassment. 

Mr. and Mrs. Quinn has always been delightful to me, even though I look different than others. Perhaps the fact that I have heterochromia for eyes, that rarely a kind of person could have. 

That's not the only thing that bothers me, that people are uneasy with prevailing around me is my skin and hair. I was born with a disease that causes the loss of skin color in blotches. Called vitiligo. 

All races of people could have it. Example: Michael Jackson. Michael Joseph Jackson was an American singer, songwriter, and dancer. Dubbed the "King of Pop", he is regarded as one of the most significant cultural figures of the 20th century. His fans love him a lot. 

I didn't know much about him, but I do love his songs. Sadly he passed away in 2009. Yet, he had the same skin disease as me. Just not my hair or the eyes.  

To the jokes of the private school I attended, it is a nightmare.  At Spring Gardens School for Girls, every girl knew each other from wealthy families, but I, for one, was not part of that. So, essentially I will be bullied a lot by my classmates. 

Being called a freak or Frankie Stein from the monster high mix with a cow. Knowing those words hurt me, but I decided to ignore them for a black girl with a skin disease and a stroke of white forelock above my forehead which is called poliosis. I didn't know much about it, but it's a white patch for simple birthmarks. 

As for my eyes, my adoptive parents told me none of my biological parents didn't have the same eyes or hair as me, perhaps to embarrass me as their child. But, I guess they didn't want my feelings to be hurt as it already is. My parents and Quinn love my eyes because it's different from theirs. The right eye is a very bright blue that rarely any black person could have. As for my left eye, it's just dark brown. 

Glancing at the time, by now Mrs. Quinn is perhaps doing the paperwork for next week. I, here, have been zoning out. Rush to the backroom to get a cloth with a bucket of water to clean the tables. 

Silly Bailee, I thought to myself. I wiped down the tables minding my business. I quickly peep at the sky. The evening sky is beautiful with pinks and oranges with the white fluffy clouds seeing the birds flying by. I giggled softly. 

After I was done with the last table, I went back to the backroom to put back the cloth and bucket of water I use for the tables. I wiped off my hands on the skirt of my uniform to dry off. Making my way to take out the trash, my shoe clicked on the marble floors, yet I knew Susan's computer was clicking on the keyboard of the connection of her fingers. 

" Are you almost done, dear?" I hear her sweet voice from the other room, her office. 

"I just have to take out the trash then I'll be off for the day," I said, dragging the trash off the floor. 

"Okay dear, just don't want your parents to fuss," her tone was still delightful yet worried. I understand that she and her husband are like my grandparents to me. 

"Okay!" 

Pushing the back door of the shop to the garbage seems to be normal, I shoved the trash bag in and was about to go in. Yet something caught my attention. Of a shady figure on the surface. 

Is it just my imagination, I assumed to myself. Agreeing with my thoughts to shake off the shivers of the chills of the evening weather, not till I heard a manly groan. 

Slowly tilted my head to the side, and almost let out a scream at what I saw in front of me. To see a mystery boy, unconscious.