The bells on the bodega door jingled as Usnavi spun a quarter between his fingers, his foot tapping against the tile floor. The early morning rush had passed, leaving the store in a lull—just the hum of the refrigerator and the faint bachata playing from an old radio behind the counter.

Sonny leaned against the register, flipping through a magazine he had no intention of buying. "So, you gonna finally ask Vanessa out or what?" he asked, not bothering to look up.

Usnavi scoffed, tossing the quarter onto the counter. "I don’t know, primo, maybe when she actually notices me as more than the dude selling her coffee every morning."

Before Sonny could come up with a smart reply, the door swung open again. Daniela waltzed in like she owned the place—probably because she did, in spirit. "¡Buenos días, mis amores! Usnavi, darling, where’s my coffee?"

Usnavi was already reaching for a cup. "Coming right up, doña," he said, pouring her usual. "Black, two sugars, right?"

"Like my soul," she quipped, leaning on the counter. "So, any gossip? Any love confessions? Any dramatic declarations in the middle of the street?"

Sonny smirked. "Nah, but if Usnavi keeps avoiding Vanessa, I might have to stage an intervention."

"¡Ay, Dios mío!" Daniela threw a hand over her heart. "The tension, the tragedy! Usnavi, you better do something before someone else snatches her up."

Usnavi groaned, handing her the coffee. "Can we not make my love life the morning news?"

Just then, the bell rang again, and Vanessa herself walked in, her usual effortless grace making Usnavi freeze for half a second.

Sonny snickered. "Speak of the reina."

Usnavi straightened, wiping his hands on his apron. "Vanessa! Uh—café? Same as always?"

She smiled, resting her arms on the counter. "Actually, I think I’ll try something new today."

Usnavi gulped. He wasn’t sure if she meant the coffee or something else entirely.