[𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥]
From the graceful lines of ballet to the thrilling chaos of the streets, she thought she had conquered it all.
But life has given her a second chance-Now, trading her ballet slippers for iceskates...
Beneath th...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
As you tried to push through the crowd of customers, your coworker nearly collided with you, his face pale and hands trembling.
"Hey, [Name], you need to take this one," he said, his voice shaking as he pointed toward a table in the corner. "A specific customer asked for you."
You shot him an annoyed look. "What's your problem? Just take the damn order."
He shook his head, panic clear in his eyes.
"No, seriously... you need to take this one." His tone was almost pleading.
Rolling your eyes, you turned to see what had him so rattled.
That's when you saw him—Mikey, casually sitting at a table, his blonde hair standing out like a beacon.
Your stomach dropped, and for a split second, you felt your irritation spike even higher.
Your hand tightened around the notepad, the urge to throw it rising briefly before you forced yourself to stay composed.
"Of course, it's him," you muttered through gritted teeth.
Mikey's presence here, in *your* space, was beyond irritating.
You clenched your jaw, trying to bury the flood of emotions surging inside. Dropping your pen and notepad with an audible clink on the counter, you straightened up, exhaling slowly to regain some semblance of professionalism.
You could feel your coworker's anxious eyes on you, but you ignored him, making your way to Mikey's table. Your footsteps were measured, each one a struggle to keep your composure intact.
This wasn't the place for a confrontation, but you were damn close to making it one.
As you approached, Mikey looked up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.
"Hey," he said, his voice softer than usual, almost hesitant.
You stopped in front of him, arms crossed, every muscle in your body tense.
"What do you want to order, Mikey?" you asked, your voice sharp, with no effort to hide your irritation.
He didn't respond immediately, just kept his gaze on you, as if trying to read something in your expression. Finally, he spoke, "I just wanted to talk."
