The soft hum of the kitchen filled the air as Gustava Fring stood behind the counter of Los Pollos Hermanos, eyes flicking across the bustling dining area. She had seen him yesterday, the man with who was supposed to be a promising Meth cook, but it had been his partner that had caught her attention. The young man was high, sloppy, and unprofessional. Gustava had been patient, watching from the shadows, observing and decided they were too unprofessional for her standards.

However today, He returned alone. He walked in sitting alone at a table before seeming to realize something, and approached the counter, eyes scanning the resturant. She could see it in his gaze suspicion, he had realized it was her he was supposed to have met yesterday.

She smiled faintly, her voice smooth, trained.

“How can I help you, Sir?”

He glanced at her for a moment, then said, “A diet coke please... and five minutes of your time.”

Gustava paused for the briefest of moments. He was confident it was her.

Her smile remained in place as she poured the drink, her mind considering if she should give the man a second chance without his lousy partner. She set the cup on the counter. After a moment she came to his table still having the manager attitude.

“What can I do for you?”

She asked, still playing the fool, though she knew he had already begun to piece things together.