Early the next morning, Ethan Grey sprang up from his sleep, with an urgency to resume at the diner. The chess tournament was over. He wasn't the winner as he prayed and studied to be, neither was there a consolation prize or trophy to clutch onto.
But the unending fulfilling emotion that bubbled within him was his greatest consolation— his reward from all his labour. Having a lady who was as well piqued in the same interest as his, and was a flair at it was something to bubble over non-stop.
At that moment, he was less concerned about what his frequent absence at the diner would result in. Yet, he believed in Michael— his wingman and trusted confidant to concoct the perfect alibi for him, and still secure him his job.
In his usual manner, he threw the headphones over his head, grabbed his backpack, and boarded a bus, heading to the diner. He rushed in just a few minutes before the hour hand and the minute had been positioned for 7am.
Quickly, he grabbed his apron, threw it over his neck, and knotted the tie at the back.
By the side was Michael— early as usual, determined and pumped for the day's job. His face was straight, and at some point, fiercely tightened as he focused on brewing coffee for the customer leaning against the counter.
"Hey man," Ethan Grey greeted.
"Thanks for covering up for me," he continued with a smile on his face, grabbing a plastic cup from the table nearby.
He was just about heading towards the coffee brewing machine behind him when he immediately halted abruptly. He turned his eyes slowly towards Michael, as though he noticed the strangest thing about him that morning.
Michael never responded to what he said. He didn't flinch a muscle in his direction, or even take a glance at him. It was as though all Ethan said had fallen on intentionally deaf ears.
"There you go," Michael broke the silence. His once tightened face had brightened up with a much more beautiful smile as he presented the brewed latte to the customer.
"Boy, I know you ain't ignoring me," Ethan spoke up with rolled eyes as soon as the customer walked away.
Michael's demeanor was tickling to watch. He could understand the source of his pain, his sudden grudge. But Ethan remained patient, watching with a smile, ready to poke the bear until he heard it growl.
"I wasn't," Michael dragged the words through gritted teeth, "I was attending to a customer," he glanced at Ethan before turning his eyes away.
"I think you are, because you heard what I said, didn't you?" Ethan Grey asked again. He folded his arms, and watched his friend grapple with the brewing machine through grudging feelings.
"The customer is always first, okay? It's a priority," Michael retorted immediately.
He made a dramatic turn, as though he was about to walk away, but halted and clapped back with the same energy, "Oh! I remember now. You don't know what priority really means given the fact that you intentionally lost a match to a girl and didn't even feel bad about it."
There it was— the shard underneath his skin. A sigh of relief escaped Ethan's lips, forced through a smile as he watched his friend.
"Come on, Mike. Are we still over this?" Ethan groaned as he massaged his forehead and temple with his fingers. He was exhausted already.
"And you were praising her!" Michael squealed louder with clenched teeth and bulged out eyes.
"First off, I didn't intentionally lose the game. She was good, I was good, there had to be a winner somehow. The better one had to go with the trophy," Ethan tried explaining.
The doorbell rang from afar. Michael had a clearer view of the door from where he stood, while Ethan's back was turned against the door. Michael's eyes drifted from Ethan's face to the door, and back again to him.
"Yeah! And your trophy just walked in," Michael said in a low tone, turned around and left.
Ethan's brows were creased as he watched Michael leave. Just then, the service bell at the counter rang. He turned, ready to serve his first customer excitedly. But when he saw who it was, his breath caught .
It was Scarlett. There, mixed with the sudden emotions that swept him when his eyes fell on her, came the meaning of Michael's last words before he left.
"Hi," Ethan whispered through shuddered breath.
It was as though he forgot everything that made him human, smiling as though he were hypnotized for the zillionth time.
"Hi," Scarlett responded, in a soft tone that made his belly flutter.
"You look good today," Ethan said with that smile on his face.
"Well, it's called the Winner's glam," she flung her honey brown wavy hair to the side, coupled with a shoulder movement dipped in sass.
He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply. Her sass and witty comeback was as perfect as her chess skills. He didn't know if he should be shamed by his loss, or impressed with how versatile she was. His cheerful chuckle after processing her words were triggered by how soothing hers sounded in his ears.
"I'll take the usual," the laughter faded between them as she said. He nodded, and went along to get the cappuccino ready, just the way she always wanted.
In a few minutes he was done. He presented it to her over the counter, and watched as she counted the dollar bill before handing it to him.
"Let me take you on a date," he cut in sharply, unashamed and unafraid.
She pulled back, with lips curved into a smile as she whispered, "Wow. Such a pitcher"
"Well, Mama said I should chase my dreams," he responded with a swagger in his tone.
"Smooth talker," she gasped even more, laughing with her head down, and shook in stun.
Quickly, he grabbed a piece of paper, and drew out a pen from his pocket as he placed them both on the counter.
"Write your number," he said to her.
She didn't hesitate. She picked up the pen, and scribbled her digits on the paper before she grabbed her cup of cappuccino from the counter.
"I'll call you," he said to her, gesturing with his fingers. She cheered with her cup, and walked away. He stood frozen at the spot, with his eyes fixed on her as she walked out of the door, and vanished from his sight. His smile widened even more. He had a date to prepare for.