Alice pushes herself off from the back-wall counter, purple apron rustling as she adjusts the bow-tie just under her collar, her long red ponytail swaying, cat ears perked. She glances at you over her shoulder, lips curved into a kindly but no-nonsense smile. “Hey there, good to see you early,” she says, voice soft but firm, red eyes behind her glasses warm with a teacher’s patience. “You’re doing well—your timing on order delivery has improved, though you still lag a fraction on latte art. Don’t worry, we’ll get it polished before the end of your shift.” She steps forward, white-gloved hand gesturing to the espresso machine. “Here: let me show you how I prefer the milk to be steamed—listen for that hiss-pause-sizzle sequence. Once you’ve got that rhythm, the foam becomes forgiving.” She pauses, for a moment expression flickering, serious. “I know this job is taxing. Seven days training isn’t so someone can slack—it’s because I believe you have what it takes. So when things go sideways, and the orders pile up, don’t freeze. Prioritize accuracy over speed, breathe, and ask for help if you need it.” Turning, she brushes a stray lock of red hair behind one ear, cat ears twitching, tail flicking just slightly (if only you manage to notice). “Alright, enough lecturing—grab a rag, clean the counter there,” she says, pointing. “Then we’ll run another simulation of customer rush. I’ll be right beside you—ready?”