When Hunger Fuels Anger

CHAPTER ONE.

• A R I E L L E •

°•| When Hunger Fuels Anger |•°

Pushing the door open, I strolled lazily into De McQueen's coffee shop, where I worked. The heaviness of my body weighed me down and my stomach grumbled. To make matters worse, the smell of coffee and cake greeted my nostrils and the thought of just taking a sip of coffee latte nearly made my mouth to water.

Alright, I can do this, all I have to do is walk into that damn change room to change clothes!

Due to the fact that I couldn't risk myself getting embarrassed, I walked through the inner door to the change room. The only thing I wanted to do now was to get my damn work done, buy an espresso or two and leave.

Everything in the room was familiar, the lockers where we kept our belongings; the t-shirts where our names were printed to avoid any form of confusion was folded neatly in lockers, the recently mopped tiles sparkled, the cream painting of the wall gleamed, the air was . . .

But no, there was this smell of a strange perfume and I dropped my bag on the floor to find where it came from. Well, my nose was usually sharper whenever I was hungry.

It was a medium sized room so it didn't take long before I found its source. He sat down by the window, his headset on and his grey eyes hidden beneath his eyelids-Roman. This guy sure had a good sense when it came to perfumes/colognes.

"Um . . . hello?" I waved at him.

Oh yeah, his eyes were closed. Effects of fatigue, no doubt.

Even as irritated as I felt when around him, I still wanted to play a little prank. Oh, I'm gonna get an earful for this.

I tiptoed round him to his back and brought my lips close to his ear, taking a deep breath in. I used the little energy left in me to shout.

"Boo!"

It was almost hard to suppress my laughter and I folded my arms as I rested on the wall to watch his reaction. Oh my, the look on his face was priceless.

He turned to face me little by little, giving me the death glare which reminded me why I never should have done that in the first place. His brows creased into a huge frown and he took off his headset.

"What the heck?!" He put his index finger into his ear, eyes widened and I couldn't hold my laughter in any longer. After all, I wasn't to be blamed. A girl's gotta joke around from time to time.

"What're you doing here, instead of working? It serves you right." I rolled my eyes at him, stifling a laughter.

"And? Is that your problem?" He had on an inquisitive look, placing his hand on his broad chin.

"I came here to change. You're here and I can't have my privacy," I said in a duh tone. "You should understand."

"I'm not in your way now, am I?" He smirked, going back to closing his eyes and crossed his legs. "And . . . nevermind."

I hope he wasn't even thinking that I was going to change in front of him, there's no way that I would do that. How could anyone be a jerk?

"Can't you be a gentleman for just this once and excuse me?" I asked getting tired, headache carefully setting in and it irritated the hell out of me. Believe me, I get snappy when hungry and angry.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" He raised a brow. The stupid finely shaped eyebrow of his.

"And who are you to stay here idly?" I shot back. Humor was clearly written on his face when I said this and now it was his turn to laugh, making my cheeks heat up. "What's funny?"

"You," he smirked, getting up like a lazy idiot and stretched. I winced when I heard a slight crack. "Damn, you just like pulling at my strings, don't you, pancake?"

Ugh, pancake? He really is innovative when it comes to nicknames, isn't he now?

"Pancake?" I scoffed, it was unbelievable. "Oh, please."

As hard as it was, I couldn't really deny the effect of his words and I hoped that my face didn't give away my thoughts.

"Fine, I'm leaving," he sighed, the stupid smirk never living his lips since it was born to stay.

"Yup." I rolled my eyes before muttering, ''like I care.''

He picked up his black backpack and headset about to take his leave before making a tsk tsk sound with his lips.

"By the way, red suits your face, tomato," he grinned in a devilish way.

Wait, don't tell me that my face was . . . oh God, he's going to be the death of me someday.

*****

Ever since my dad lost his job I had decided to help out even if my mom worked as an accountant in a prestigious company. She earned a lot but I was still hell bent on working. I walked up to one of the customers wearing an expensive black suit. He had his briefcase placed on the table.

"Welcome. What would you like to have today?" I asked the dark haired man.

His eyes darted to mine and damn, they looked creepy. Dark circles surrounded his eyes, and it was like he had applied make-up. Surely, work could kill since I've experienced it first-hand. The man couldn't be blamed.

"Just cappuccino," He drawled out, as if bored by my presence.

I scribbled it on my notepad, grimacing at my handwriting before going to the next table. Three embarrassing yawns and worried looks away, I gave the customers their order.

Soon, I was done with work so I got changed back into my vintage baggy sweats, ready to go home.

Finally.

In my entire history of working here, I've never been this bored. And there was Harley who couldn't make it because an urgent matter arose.

I should call her when I get home.

Feeling stressed and fulfilled, I took my bag and left. I still had to get my projects done and arrange my room, which could eventually take years to do so. And due to the fact that I had rushed to college this morning, my room was left unfixed.

In about ten minutes, I got home though I took a cab. I opened the door and saw my dad reading a newspaper. It wasn't really necessary for me to check what section he was reading because I already knew and it brought pain to my heart.

He had been looking for a new job ever since the company he formally worked in got shut down. If I were to place myself in his shoes, I don't think I would be able to cope with it. Yet, he did.

"Hey dad." I greeted, dropping my bag on the tiles to hug him.

"You're back." He said, taking off his glasses when I let go and I nodded.

"Is mom around?" I asked, looking around the house and noticed everywhere was so tidy. The table at the center stood proudly on the ground polished, the TV shone brightly. Dad. He never listened when I told him that I didn't need him to help me out with my responsibility.

"Yeah. She's having a shower." He nodded. "You could use a shower too and dinner is ready."

"Dad?"

"Hm?" He answered, not concentrating again because he was back to reading the papers.

"I love you." I hugged him again but tighter this time, feeling emotional and tired.

"That's stale news." Dad chuckled, stroking my hand. Typical of him. "Now go get changed and come eat or the food would get cold."

*****

"Has my bed ever been more pretty?" I asked no one in particular as I lay on the bed, hungrier than ever.

Ok now, I must get my lazy ass up.

I felt a slight pain as I stretched my limbs but I ignored it, going on to get my towel and PJs before I dragged my feet to my washroom.

Singing with a low voice or mostly humming, I washed my body, wishing the ache in my muscles could go away with the hot water. And a little while after I got out, I dried my hair to tie it into a loose bun.

Two popping sounds came from the corner of my room where I had kept my phone and I won't have heard it but for the silence. Maybe I had a new message from someone. Who could it be?

Tired, I stood up from my chair to get my phone which was on the side table by my bed. The new messages were from a number that wasn't in my contacts.

Unknown number¹ -

Hey, it's Roman. I think ur w/ my shirt.

Lord...

Unknown number² -

Come on. Reply my text. It's me Roman nd ur with my shirt

All I had planned to do was have dinner, get my work down and rest the machine I called a body but clearly, this guy wasn't going to help. Either way, I decided to text back.

Besides, how did he find my phone number?

Me -

What are you talking about and how did you get my number?

I debated on whether or not, I should save his number. It might come in handy later anytime I might need something from him. And so, I decided to save his number in case of a next time which I didn't want to come just yet.

Roman :( -

Meet me at Clayton's restaurant w/ it. Trust me, u wouldn't want to know how I got ur number

Me -

You have no manners, how am I sure that you aren't lying? Seriously, tell me where you got my number from :( right now! I'm freaking serious, I tell ya.

Roman :( -

I thought u used your eyes but clearly u don't. Haven't u checked ur bag? Don't ask me how I got ur no. again

I reached for my bag which sat on the dresser and opened it. The shirt I had used earlier at work was folded neatly inside since I had brought it home for washing. Still, to be sure he wasn't playing foolish pranks, I checked where the names were written.

Roman McQueen.

No way . . . but how? When? . . . how? Wait a minute, all those while I had been wearing his . . . ugh.

God. Why can't this stop?

Roman :( -

Arielle? u still there?

My stomach rumbled, I was hungry after all those work I did in the coffee shop today plus the stress of earlier lectures. And I was seriously craving pizza, even if it was just a freaking bite.

Me -

Yeah. Clayton's right?

Roman :( -

Yup, remember the shirt.

Me -

Whatever and you really should go learn how to write 'you' , 'your' and 'you're' .

Roman -

It's called SMS u know?

Such an idiot! Argh!

I switched my phone off before the conversation would go any further. I changed from my PJ's into a turquoise short sleeved shirt and wiggled into my blue denims.

Reluctantly, I took Roman's shirt, put it in a small bag and then went to the living room to see my parents having a hearty conversation. Mom had her hands on my dad's chest, with a one in a million smile on her face, while dad had that fire in his eyes that meant that they could . . .

Alright, that sure is enough.

"Elle," my mom said, bringing me back to reality.

"You took a long time in the shower and sorry if I was interrupting something." I teased and walked over to them.

"What do you mean?" She laughed, cheeks flushed a bit and placed her hand around dad's neck.

"It's obvious." I chuckled and looked at the bag in my hand. "Um . . . I'm gonna go out for a bit to give this clothe back to my friend."

Friend?

Was he even my friend?

"By this time of the day?" Dad asked. He has always been so protective of me ever since what happened that night. "Why is your friend's clothe with you?"

I checked the clock only to see that the time was quarter past seven. It wasn't too late yet. And again, I didn't know how my friend's clothe ended up with me.

"Oh, sweetheart, let her be." Mom smiled and rubbed his arm.

I had my fingers crossed and the more time I wasted, the hungrier I became. However, dad seemed to let go but the frown on his face was quite obvious. Leave it to my mom to assure him.

"Make sure you get back before

eight thirty," he finally said, massaging his temple and I didn't fail to notice few strands of grey hair.

He's not getting any younger.

"Alright. Eight thirty on the dot." I bounced on my feet, getting prepared to zoom the hell out. "Bye."

"Take care, sweetie." Mom winked, smiling.

Well, that was mom for you.

I walked out of the house. Though it would be tiring, I decided to walk since I had not taken a normal walk for a while now.

I got there quicker than I thought but there was no sign of Roman anywhere. Not even that stupid car of his or the feeling of his annoying presence. He was the one who had selected the place we would meet. The hell, he was the one blabbering about his shirt and he wasn't even here yet.

My stomach rumbled for the fourth time this evening and I looked into the restaurant at the people that ate. Damn, it made me even hungrier.

When he comes, I swear I'll kill him.