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Mocha With 3 Shots Of Espresso

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Paper aeroplanes aren’t grocery store decorations. That would be the case if it wasn’t 6 in the morning and Ian and Anthony weren’t the only cashiers forced to work at such an ungodly hour. Who even bought their groceries this early?
They didn’t even have control over the music playing, so they had to deal with anything that was playing. Right now, that layer of hell belonged to Taylor Swift. At least, pretty sure that’s her.

“Ian!” Anthony yelled across the empty rows of cash registers.
“Anthony!” Ian called back, mindlessly clicking random buttons on the desk.
“It’s three past six!”
“So great for us!”
“Only four hours and forty-seven minutes till we get to leave!”
Stupid shopping schedules. Not even the local cafe was open until 7, how was anyone expected to do anything before that? Nobody even came into the shops until 8, why did they need to be open at 6?

“Dan, do we really need to get groceries this early? Our show isn’t until twelve!”
“Shush Phil, do you want to avoid random people or not?”
Ian and Anthony looked at each other, both internally agreeing with the statements made by the two men entering the store. Peering over mountains of promotional stuff, they could spot them both; two tall men, one with brown hair and the other with black. Anthony quickly folded a paper aeroplane and tossed it to Ian, who unfolded it confused by no message inside.

“Dumbass!” He yelled, sending the plane back.
“Shut up!”
A cackle of laughter came from the other side of the store.
“Add that to my resume: made THE Daniel Howell laugh!” Anthony said fist raised to the sky covered by the ceiling.
“Shut your mouth Anthony, it’s not that big of a celebration!” The brown-haired radio host yelled, gaining a laugh from both the cashiers and Phil. They watched as the local celebrities walked closer to the cash registers.

Anthony promised himself to ask the duo for makeup tips because there was no way they didn't secretly have the darkest eyebags in town. Either they were doing late recordings or shows, or playing video games until morning on their own accord. Ian and Anthony had a similar life, except swapping radio stuff for suddenly being asked to work in the shop at stupid hours. Like now.

“It’s so unfair Golden Brew doesn't open until eight-”
“Seven, Phil.”
“Right, it’s unfair they don’t open until seven but they stay open so late!”
Ian laughed as Anthony sighed, remembering all the times the baristas had come in at 11 at night, almost scavenging the store for snacks. How hard was a cafe job in comparison to retail? Neither of them was willing to find out, but it was a fun thought.

“So, what radio-friendly snacks are you two getting today?” Ian asked, basically laying on the counter. “Can I interest you in some doughnuts?”
“I’ll pay you five bucks to steal one from Ian!”