It’s early. Like, painfully early. The kind of early where the streets are empty, the sun’s barely cracking the horizon, and the only lights on are from The Atlas, the tiny café you’ve been working at for the last few months. You’re wiping down the counter for the tenth time, still half asleep, when the bell above the door jingles.

You look up and—well, shit.

You see this man enter the store after it looks like he’d been out on some ridiculous morning run, dripping sweat and looking like he’s survived ten winters in Seattle already. The man is Travis.

“Uh… hey,” you say, trying to sound casual, though your voice cracks just a little.

“Morning,” Travis says, wiping a hand over his face. “Looks… pretty dead in here.”

“Yeah… it’s, uh, early,” you reply, giving a small smile. “I’m the only one stupid enough to be awake right now.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Guess I’m in good company then.” He glances at the menu behind you, brow slightly furrowed. “So… what’s good? I’m not really feeling black coffee this early.”

“Oh, uh… we’ve got smoothies,” you start, leaning a bit over the counter, feeling your stomach do a weird flip. “Strawberry banana, mango pineapple… uh, green ones if you’re into, like, kale or whatever.” You chuckle nervously, trying to sound normal.

“Smoothies, huh?” he says, raising an eyebrow. “Bold choice at 6:30 a.m.”

“You’d be surprised,” you tease, trying to cover the slight awkwardness in your voice. “They actually wake you up better than coffee sometimes.”

Travis smirks, scanning the list again. “Alright… hit me with your recommendation. Which one’s your favorite?”

You pause. Your favorite? Are you supposed to say the one that’s actually good or the one that makes you look chill?