"What's your name.?"
"Rosaline Elizabeth Ashford."
I don't like that name.
"Gender. "
"Female. "
What an odd question to ask?
"Age."
"Nineteen. "
The manager looked up from the application he was scanning and looked up at me.
"Nineteen? " he asked
"I'll be twenty in a couple of months. "
He have a slight nod ,muttering something under his breath as he continued scanning through the papers.
"Relationship status. "
"Huh? " I asked dumbly.
"Are you married or single?"
".....single. " I drawled out.
"what?, don't girl at your age get married these days? "
Oh wow.....
I didn't say anything.
"Educational status."
"Undergraduate."
"Living with parents or guardian or alone? "
"Parents."I said with a sigh.
I'm pretty sure I stated most of these in the application form.
He looked at me and I gave him a bright smile.
Yesterday I had came here and three other coffee and fast food shops to apply for a job or any other thing it is they did here. And I seem to be getting luck with this one..
I really needed this job , because not only would it serve as a source of distraction but earn me a couple of bucks too.
"nice. " He said and closed the papers.
"so..... " I pressed.
"You got the job."
"Really?!" I exclaimed.
He gave a me a blank stare as if he didn't just state the obvious. I cleared my throat and sat upright.
"of course... thank you. "
"if you don't mind, you can start today. "
"Sure I can, I mean, I don't mind. " I ranted.
"Okay, you'll meet Reggie outside by the counter, she'll give you all the instructions that you need and make sure you follow every one of them. " He instructed.
"Yes sir, thank you. "
I stood up and left his office.
As the manager said, Reggie was standing behind the counter, flipping through a book with the enthusiasm of someone being forced at gunpoint. Her apron made it very easy to identify her, REGGIE was plastered across the front in bold letters, it looked like a warning sign.
I approached her, trying my best smile.
"Hello, Reggie." I greeted sweetly.
She turned around with the driest, most unimpressed expression I've ever seen. The gum in her mouth made an obnoxious smacking noise, each one stabbing my soul like a tiny dagger. But I didn't let my smile drop. I've survived my twin sister, so I'll definitely survive this one.
She muttered something under her breath that I didn't hear.
"sorry?" I blinked.
"Rosaline?" she asked lazily.
"Call me Rose."
"Yeah, whatever." She shoved a small stack of papers into my hands. "These are the instructions, the do's and don'ts. I don't have time to explain everything, so read it. I'll show you how the counter works. Your shift timetable will be given to you later."
She spun around immediately and walked off, her steps surprisingly fast for someone who looked like she slept standing up.
I skimmed the papers:
• Don't be late
• Always get the food and drinks right
• Don't quarrel with a customer
• Always smile
Blah blah blah…
I folded the papers, shoved them into my pocket and hurried after her.
Reggie moved like a tour guide who hated her job. She pointed at machines, buttons, cups, drawers, and random objects like she was listing off suspects in a crime.
"That's the blender. That's the syrup pump. That's the receipt button. These are the cups. That's the mop- Don't ask why it's here."
I nodded obediently, absorbing about 30% of what she said. She handed me a fresh apron with a little tag on it.
Rose.
I blinked. "How'd you make this so fast?"
"We had a previous worker named Rose." Reggie said flatly. "Consider yourself lucky."
"Oh, did she leave or was she fired?." I asked out of curiosity. Reggie only shrugged in return and resumed working.
That's super comforting.
She drifted away to deal with some other task, leaving me behind the counter. And honestly? The job wasn't horrible. I just had to be fast, smile, and resist the urge to throw the blender whenever it got stuck.
Half of my shifts would be at the counter, half waiting tables. Reggie said it like it was a sacred ritual passed down through centuries. A "position exchange routine." Very dramatic.
Two hours in, and I was already sweating like I was in a cooking competition show. I was behind the counter making a vanilla milkshake for a customer when the little bell above the door jingled.
I hurried, handed the milkshake to the customer, shoved the money into the drawer, and spun toward the new arrival.
"Hello, welcome to-"
My mind suddenly blanked and my breath choked in my throat.
Because standing there, just inside the doorway, was a man who looked like he walked out of an elite, Royal fashion magazine.
His dark brown hair was swept back, but a few rebellious strands fell perfectly onto his forehead. His face was sculpted, sharp jawline, defined cheekbones, lips that looked way too soft for someone who radiated such intimidating energy. He wore a black silk turtleneck and a polished leather coat, the outfit clinging to him like it had been made specifically for his existence.
And when he walked up close, I realized his eyes were golden brown, they held me captive. They were deep, too deep. Like if I stared too long, I might fall into another universe.
I forced myself to breathe, shaking out of the trance.
"Wh–what w-would you like to order?" I stammered, my voice cracking like a terrified squirrel.
He took a moment to respond. A few seconds that felt like hours. His eyes didn't waver from mine.
Then he spoke.
"Iced coffee."
The moment he spoke, it felt like his voice woke something in me.
His voice was low and rough, but soft around the edges. Like honey mixed with smoke. A voice that instantly rewired the entire structure of my nervous system.
I turned to make the coffee, but I could feel his eyes on me, steady and unblinking. My hands shook as I poured the ice. I was genuinely afraid I might spill something and embarrass myself into early retirement.
Get it together, Rose. I took a deep breath.
I placed the iced coffee gently on the counter. "H-here you go."
He slid a dollar bill across the table.
"Wait- your change." I said, turning to the cash drawer.
I grabbed his change, turned around and froze.
He was gone, like the wind.
What?
The little door bell that jingles every time someone enters or leaves did not make a sound. My heart hammered violently, panic and confusion mixing in my chest.
"Reggie?" I whispered without meaning to.
But she was across the room, not paying attention. I looked back at the empty space where he had stood, my heart fluttered wildly, refusing to calm.
And deep inside my chest, a strange, unfamiliar sensation curled warm and unsettling.
Like fate had just walked into my life....
"I feel funny."