"She's kind of a walking poem, she's this perfect beauty...but at the same time very deep, very smart."

― Johnny Depp

. . .

Olivia Woods

I always kept money in my jacket, now and everywhere I went, I looked for their Limousine. I didn't know why I even looked for it.

I was paranoid, thinking that there was someone out there always wanting to hurt me. I had little panic-filled flashbacks of the guy who had attacked through the whole month, his familiar voice bugging the heck out of me. Where had I heard it? I didn't know.

I twirled the stylus around between my fingers, sitting at one of the tables in the cafe before I shift. I still had about an hour but I had nothing to do so I came early.

I glared down at the blank screen of my tablet. Was I seriously having a block right now? My blocks were so random and they never made sense. Still, whenever I had a block, I kept pushing myself. Real motivation always came after starting for me.

You hit that block till it breaks, Carrie Arnaud's voice came in my head. She was one of the best artists in the world right now, for me she was, her abstract was better than anyone. You own your art. Don't let your art own you.

Well. I sighed. Tell me what to do, Miss Arnaud. Because I was close to breaking the damn tablet.

Soon, I started making something. It just happened. One second I was glaring down at the screen and the next my hand started going as it having a mind of its own.

When I finished, my shift was about to start in five minutes. Yet I couldn't tear my eyes away from what I had made.

It was them. Their faces. A little shadows, as if surrounded by darkness, a little blur, but it was them.

I was a creep.

I sighed, shutting off the tablet and putting it in my small sky blue bag I had embroidered stars on as soon as I got it from a thrift store. I kept the bag in the locker in the back room of the cafe and changed into the fabulous cashier uniform.

Typing my hair up in a little messy bun, I walked out and headed for the counter.

Ready for another five hours of work.

. . .

"The best one." Georgia peered into the showcase. "Just something with a cheery."

My nose wrinkled. Cherry. I hated cherry.

I looked down at the three racks which displayed the baked wonders Cassandra made. That woman had magic in her hands. "There's a vanilla pastry with too much cherries." I would never eat that.

Georgia nodded, setting her elbow on the counter. "Two for me, Li-li."

Deciding to ignore the nickname which I hated more than plastic brushes and packed up two pastries for her as neatly as I could. I was getting better and faster at this. Cassandra, even though sweet words seemed to be forbidden to her, said that I was doing 'good'.

I set the box down on the counter. "Here."

She hummed. "Did you find out who attacked you?" She asked in a low voice, fingers tapping on the counter.

Biting the inside of my cheek as I wiped the counter clean with a rag, I answered her, "No. It's like nagging at the back of my head. I just can't get who was it. But, I know many people. You don't want to know the number of times I have been forced into a social party with my mother and her minions." I sighed. "The cops haven't been able to find him, either."

She nodded and tucking the box to her chest. "I have to go. Don't walk home. Use your mother's money if you don't have much of your own. Your rebellion is not worth as much as you."

I gave her a mock salute. "Yes, captain."

She rolled her eyes and walked away, wiggling her fingers towards me in fair well.

I smiled. It didn't matter why she became friends with me, what mattered was that she cared.

It had been so long since anyone cared.

. . .

I watched with wide eyes as Ashton Creed browsed through the book on the bookshelves, his one hand in the pocket is his brown leather jacket which was stretched over his muscular shoulders, his long legs covered in denim, and under his leather jacket was a white t-shirt. Too casual outfit for someone as powerful as him.

I knew everyone in the cafe was looking at him. It was late, around nine in the night. Cassandra had said that I would be getting the evening shifts, soon. So I didn't mind the night shifts too much right now. But there were not many people in the cafe right now.

But he was there. So I could not even try to be on my phone.

He, finally, selected a book. A picture of Dorian Gray. And settled at the table. He had ordered coffee earlier and I stuttered...again. But he didn't make fun of me. He waited patiently, letting me speak, and then ordered in that dark voice of his which made me shiver. He had that edge. They had that edge in them....like an edge of a newly sharped knife, it looks pretty but

it's sharp, sharp enough to draw blood.

That's what they felt like. Newly sharped deadly knives with fancy pretty handles and everything.

Good to look, deadly to touch.

I tore my eyes away from him and sat down on the chair I had set up. Only I was here, along with one more employee at the back who made drinks. I closed my eyes, trying to relax just a little. It was a good thing that my classes were never super early. If that had been the case, I would never be able to do this job.

The door opened. I sighed and stood up.

I lifted my eyes and they fell on the two men who had entered the cafe. Xerxes and Zavier Creed. Why were they here? It didn't make sense. I had never seen them here before, and I came here often.

They walked to me. I braced myself.

"R-red eyes?" I asked that was what they had ordered last time and what Ashton had ordered today.

A little smirk came upon Zavier's lip. "Yes..." His eyes traveled to the name I had embroidered into the t-shirt I was wearing, every employee had that. "Olivia." I shivered, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.

Why did they have this effect on me?

I nodded, freeing my lip and smiling. Tapping away on the touchscreen in front of me. "I-it will be here, soon." I was doing good so far. Two stutters? That was good.

Xerxes looked down at the showcase. "What do you recommend? I want to eat something..." His dark eyes flew over me, doing a quick scan of half of my body which was because of the counter. "Sweet."

I gulped, threading my shaking fingers together on the counter. "T-the c-c-" I cut myself off. I couldn't even speak. I let out a little breath and unlocked the little flap board which allowed me to walk out. I stood beside him and pointed at the chocolate cupcake which had chocolate frosting and sprinkled sugar on the top of it. It was my favorite.

I blinked up at him, realizing how close he was. I could feel his brother's eyes on me, too. My nervousness was roaring in my head.

Xerxes didn't comment on how nervous I knew I appeared and nodded at me. "Three of them for us."

I nodded with a small smile and walked back behind the counter, locking the flap board again.

"T-to go?" I asked quietly.

"No," Zavier said. "We are going to eat here."

Please go. They made me squirm too much. I was always nervous but they just...heightened it. They made me feel warm. I knew my face had become red as soon as Ashton had entered.

I quietly got them their coffees and cupcakes and handed the tray to Zavier, his fingers brushing with mine.

They walked away. I let out a little sigh of relief.

They stayed in the cafe till about fifteen minutes before my shift ended.

In my apartment, that night, I again watched their limousine passing by from in front of my apartment.

The thing was, my apartment was so far away from the main roads which led to Manhattan where they, from what I knew, lived. The cafe, too, was

quite far. There were amazing cafes in Manhattan. It didn't make sense.

. . .

You know what I need? Sleep. Will I get sleep? No.