Vine - starbucks always spells my name wrong, Cody Ko
Damien was breathing heavily, struggling to control the hell fire that burned deep in his soul. He was angry, and each step was only making everything worse. He was tired and just wanted to go home and lay down, but noooooo, his gay, red dad just had to have fifty souls from him by tonight. Motherfucker, he hated his goddamned job so fucking much. Being the Anti-Christ was way more annoying than it had any right to be.
To make matters worse, he was stuck wandering around a giant ass city (Denver, Colorado if he remembered correctly), and every coffee shop he had been to so far had fucked up his very simple order. Why couldn't anyone make a simple fucking latte?! That's all he wanted, not one of those bullshit creations that basic white bitches liked to invent on the spot!
On one hand, it was making his job easier, just damning all the people in the shops that messed his coffee up, but on the other, he was getting real sick of walking from shop to shop. He looked up from where his eyes had been burning holes into the sidewalk and found he was outside another coffee shop. This one was rather small, only about three tables set up for customers to sit at, and a shelf holding what Damien assumed were bags of coffee by the register where only one worker could be seen. Well, you know what they say, thirteenth times the charm.
Slamming open the door of the empty cafe, he stomped inside and up to the counter. The barista, a young teen with wild blonde hair and even crazier, wide eyes, shook like an earthquake behind his register.
"Grande latte. Please." He slapped the 'please' on as an afterthought. This guy could turn everything around, no reason to make the clearly already nervous dude have a full-on panic attack and mess up. Then he would have to be merciful for once and assume it was his own fault his drink came out wrong this time.
"C-Coming right up," he squeaked, his surprisingly high-pitched voice sounding like the guy was about to snap. "Can I g-get your name?"
Damien blinked. He had forgotten that this was a thing that happened. Usually the barista would give him weird looks and demand to know, in their snooty I'm-better-than-you voice, if that was really all he wanted. That was his cue to start taking souls. He was at twenty-six already today.
He looked over the blonde, his eyes hard and burning. He wasn't sure why, but he had the sudden urge to see what would happen if he purposefully tried to frighten the guy, seeing as he was already terrified by him doing nothing. Spotting his name tag, he said, "Sure, Tweek, it's HAIL SATAN!" He let his eyes turn red as his voice lifted into a roar.
The barista, Tweek, screamed and fell to the ground, covering his head. Damien bit back a laugh as he added, "LUCIFER SHALL RISE!"
As the poor teen convulsed on the ground, Damien doubled over, howling with laughter. Sure, it was mean, but it was funny as fuck, and if the other could choose between this and being damned, he was sure he would pick this route.
He heard running, and the door in the back burst open. He straightened, wiping his eyes as he sized up the newcomer. It was another teenager, this one wearing a chullo, and tall. Like, Jesus, he was taller than even Damien, and Damien was over six and a half feet. His most striking feature were his electric blue eyes. Currently, they were wide and filled with concern.
Damien watched as he took in the scene and quickly pieced everything together. He slammed down the bags of coffee beans he had been carrying and went over to Tweek. Coming closer, Damien was able to read his name tag. Craig.
Craig lifted Tweek partially off the ground, wrapping an arm around his torso, pinning his flailing limbs in place as he whispered something Damien couldn't hear. Not that he really wanted to, he was just curious seeing as the spazzing boy calmed almost immediately.
Standing up, Tweek grabbed the counter to keep himself steady, looking even wilder than he had when Damien had come in. Craig stayed close, towering over the blonde like a guardian angel.
"Y-You're ACK total is th-ngh-three dollars, OH JESUS," he stammered, stabbing at the touch screen in front of him. Damien handed him a ten.
"Keep the change." Fuck him and his warm heart, he was actually feeling a little bad for making this Tweek boy freak out so badly. The look Craig was giving him clearly stated that he knew it was Damien's fault, too.
Tweek dropped the change into the tip jar beside the register, then shuffled to the side and turned on the coffee maker. Craig stayed in place, glaring fully at Damien. Damien looked back challengingly, a smirk playing across his lips. Craig broke the tense silence first, his voice finally loud enough for him to hear.
"Dude. What the fuck?" The flat monotone of the other caused Damien to snort. Fucking hell, these two were funny as shit! One couldn't care enough about everything and this one apparently couldn't care less about anything! What a fantastic duo!
Rather than answering him, Damien decided to ask a question. "Is it usually this empty?"
Craig pursed his lips for a moment before answering him, clearly annoyed that he'd been ignored. "Yes. Family owned cafes have a harder time pulling in customers than chain stores."
"Am I right in assuming that one of you is related to the family owning this one?"
The blue-eyed teen glanced over at his companion, who was muttering to himself by the machine as he waited for the milk to steam. "Yeah." He turned back to Damien and frowned. "Unless you're an idiot and didn't notice that this place is literally called 'Tweek Bros. Coffee', I'll give you one guess who the relation is."
They were pulled from their conversation by Tweek walking between Craig and the counter. It was almost comical how much shorter than Craig he was, dwarfed by about a foot and a half. He held out the drink to Damien, his hands quivering slightly.
"H-Here you are, sir. Thank you f-for coming to Tweek's Coffee, AGH! W-We hope you'll come again," he said, though his body language clearly said otherwise.
Damien took the cup and sipped it. A smile formed on his face at the victory of finally getting a normal ass cup of coffee. "I think I will," he informed the pair brightly, then turned and left the shop, grinning at the low moan of fear that came from the blonde.
Well, now that he had his coffee, he had better get cracking. Those souls were going to collect themselves, after all. Let's see, were else was a good place to find damnable people...?
After writing Wake Up and this story, I've come to realize that a lot of vines lend themselves extremely well to being short story ideas. I'm thinking of starting a series of non-related chapters based on vines. If you have a suggestion for one, please feel free to send it, and if you have specific characters you want the story to be, I'll try to us them! Try to give me either a link to a specific vine, or the creator and the vine so I can find it!