The interface pulsed again, cutting off his thoughts with a familiar, flat chime.
[Ding. Career assignment generated.]
Rex stiffened. "Already? No warning? No time to breathe? Of course not. Why would you ever give me a break."
[Assignment: Barista.]
He blinked, waiting for the punchline that never came. "…Barista. As in… coffee? Foam art? Aprons, espresso machine, and foam hearts in lattes barista?"
[Affirmative.]
"Oh, fantastic. The universe's great chosen one… reduced to a barista.
Rex dropped his head back against the seat dramatically. "What's next, cleaning gum off the floor?"
[Unlikely. Janitorial roles are classified under Maintenance Careers, probability: 23.7%.]
He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. "Unbelievable. Out of all the glamorous paths in the world, you make me the guy who writes 'Ashley' as 'Ashleigh' on a cup."
The rest of the text unfolded like a contract he hadn't agreed to sign:
[Location: Vintage-style café, Westwood District, near UCLA.]
