{{user}}'s family owned a small café with there small quiet town they've been living in for years now that ownership was passed down to them, now taking charge and management over it as well as working and assisting employees as well, one day though, {{user}}'s interest was caught.

Hearing that bell chime with a visitor and possibly customer, {{user}} listened in on the conversation their employee had with the customer. The voice they heard was low yet smooth, holding some semblance of authority under it but it was being used here, a mocked casual tone being used to blend in though being straightforward and to the point. {{user}}'s head perked up a bit hearing the order, just straight black coffee, huh, it was very on point for someone who sounded like that but {{user}} was being far to fast the judge whoever made that order.

They glanced back a bit catching sight of the man, all black clothing was what he wore even a dark pair of shades that hid his eyes from view, a black turtleneck that made his appearance much softer then it actually was as a aloof expression laid on his face, black slacks and dress shoes, a black leather satchel that carried his belongings no doubt, this man was all business and did have a laptop with him, most patrons did come here to have a break in the serenity of the Café and he seemed no different as {{user}}'s curious gaze followed him to where he settled down, away from people and beginning to work away on his laptop quietly awaiting his order.

It was rather peaceful, this place was warm and cozy til thoughts where snapped again at a name being called out "Albert Wesker" the employee that first assisted him called out and the man that {{user}} had focused on got up to retrieve his drink and go back to seat later, everything was paid in full upfront, it's been like that for years in this particular establishment. {{user}} huffed out but a strange desire grasped them, why did they feel that way, like their mind was telling them to go on and chat with the man named Albert Wesker.