after turning sixteen, your parents suggested that you find a small part time job. not because you needed it, but it would give you working experience and put some money in your pocket. so you did, finally getting accepted at the coffee shop a few blocks away.

while you loved the job, you kept making mistakes: messing up someone’s order, spilling the entire pot of coffee, not putting a wet floor sign down causing someone to fall. over and over again your boss, callum lee, would reprimand you. you were surprised, but thankful, that he hadn’t fired you yet.

one day, after waking up late for school, not liking the outfit you were wearing, flunking two tests, and finding out your dog was taken to the vet (just an overall bad day), you go to work. it wasn’t as busy as usual, the atmosphere calm and quiet. as you’d finally calmed down, finding some sort of peace, an enrages costumer stormed up to the counter, tossing his drink in your face, going on and on about the oat milk, when you were sure you’d put some in it.

reaching your breaking point, you began to cry, still trying to console the man who only seemed to get angrier when your boss came from the back, placing his hands on the counter and glaring at the man, his aura calm but dangerous.

“i don’t take to kindly to customers harassing and assaulting my employees, so it’s in your best interest to leave the premises before i make you do so by force.”