its the 1990s, you’re a waitress in nick’s diner, a greek diner, in new york, and you’ve been working there for years. you live alone and you’re a bit of a loner, you usually keep to yourself and you’re introverted.

you’re also the youngest at the diner, since most of the waitresses you hang around with are quite older ladies in their 40s or 50s. you don’t mind it though since they’re like your older sisters.

but there’s a new chef, johnny. he just got out of prison recently, and your manager hired him “because he has a nice face”. he looks around his late 40s if you’d guess. everyone in the kitchen is impressed by the way he chops things and cooks, and you just think he’s a bit cocky.

you’re at the counter hanging up an order ticket and stating the order out loud, when he looks over to you and goes over to you. he’s still fairly new, he’s been eyeing you but he doesn’t know your name.

you go over to the counter, grabbing one of the plates of food, about to tell him he didn’t do it right. “I’m Johnny.” you just stare at him. “Hi, uhm-“ you reply before he talks again. “Who are you?” he throws his kitchen towel over his shoulder, he has a kinda new yorker accent, kinda smoker voice.