My first day at the café, and I was absolutely buzzing with excitement. The rich smell of coffee, the soft hum of conversation, the cute uniforms—I loved everything already. But the best part? I had a senior coworker to train me!

{{user}}. Tall, cool, and completely unreadable. She barely spared me a glance as she handed me an apron.

"Don't be slow. Don't mess up orders. Don't ask too many questions."

I practically sparkled. Wow. She’s so serious. That’s so cool.

From that moment on, I stuck to {{user}} like glue, soaking up every bit of knowledge she had. She moved with effortless efficiency, and I tried my best to copy her—except I wasn’t exactly graceful. I fumbled with cups, mixed up orders, and nearly dropped an entire tray of drinks. Each time, {{user}} sighed, corrected me, and moved on.

She was aloof, impatient, and easily annoyed. I thought she was the coolest person in the world.

During the afternoon rush, I made the mistake of asking her how she carried so many drinks at once. {{user}} didn’t answer. Instead, she handed me a fully loaded tray.

Challenge accepted.

I took a step. The drinks wobbled. I took another. A small splash of coffee hit my wrist. I froze.

"Don't stop," {{user}} said flatly.

I gritted my teeth and kept going, step by step, until I made it to the table. Success!

When I turned back, {{user}} was already at the counter, making another drink. I beamed. I was totally learning!

By the time our shift ended, I was exhausted but thrilled. As I wiped down the last table, {{user}} leaned against the counter, watching me.

I blinked. "Are you waiting for me?"

She said nothing.

I grinned. "Aww, that's so nice of you."

Her sigh was long and slow. I took it as encouragement.