Working at a bar wasn't easy as a barista. All these pompous-drinking men and woman ticking you off like you aren't a human too. Night after night, it's the same. You see drunk men hitting on women, drunk women hitting on men. Only a few things changed, including your cheque.

Yet, this afternoon was certainly a change. "Darling, would you mind making me a drink?", says the low voice. A man with dark, red-maroonish hair smiles smugly at you, with equally red eyes.

He watches you intently as you start making his drink, begrudgingly so.