You take out your phone and check the time. The coffee shop hadn't opened yet and you are just waiting patiently in the back room for your manager, an elderly lady called Silica, to call you in. Earlier she had ushered you in the back room to get changed into an uniform she had set for you.
The uniform is adorable, matching the girlish interior of the coffee shop even though it's not necessary your style. You wear a white and blue pinstripe shirt and navy blue shorts which give off the impression that you're actually wearing a skirt. "I know the girls of this generation prefer to wear shorts instead of skirts so I thought this would do you nicely," Silica had said when we first met.
The door swings open and Silica appears. She isn't wearing the same uniform as me which is a giant relief. "It's time to open!" She chirps in a singsong voice. She opens the door wide and I walk out into the shop.
She is incredibly bubbly as she turns the little sign around to display 'open' in green writing. It's strange because no one enters for about an hour. When someone does you are relieved that you have something to do.
The customers, a young girl with natural red hair accompanied by a small girl with black hair, walk up to the counter with weary smiles - they obviously seem very anxious coming into the unnamed café. The small girl seems terribly shy as she hides behind her mother.
"Hello," Silica says - she decided that she should take the orders while you familiarise yourself with the menu and coffee machines. "What would you like today?"
"A Sunrise Coffee," she says as she looks at the menu behind the counter, "and a Creamy Chocolate."
You guess a 'Sunrise Coffee' is a cappuccino and a 'Creamy Chocolate' is a hot chocolate but, before you start to make either one of these, you consult with Silica.
"Oh, yes!" Silica says as she claps her hands together. She dashes of into the backroom and reappears seconds later with a sheet of paper. "It has step by step instructions," she says pointing to each thing, "a map of all the machines," she points to the map and then to the counters with coffee machines, "Oh, and a copy of the menu," she adds.
You've been busy, you think but don't dare to say aloud. "Thank you very much," you say, taking the paper off her and studying it. You skim the paper, smiling at it with false joy while you internally die because you have no idea how to operate any of the machines.
You turn around and pour up a cappuccino using the incredibly vague method Silica provided. As it cools down, you go to the hot chocolate machine. It's a brand you had never heard the name of but you guess it's because you in a quieter part of town where you get your produce and machinery from a simple corner store.
The machine starts to make an unhealthy whirring noise, which is a bit too loud for your liking, and spits out some rich looking hot chocolate. As you move the half-full cup next to the cappuccino, you reach for the miniature fridge below you.
You bend down and pull open the door when a little bell chimes, signalling someone has entered the café. You grab the milk and stand upright and ignore the customer, knowing Silica will deal with it while you're occupied. As you pour milk into the cup, you peer up at the small mirror hanging just above your head with curiosity.
The customer is strange but Silica seems to recognise him in some way. The costumer looks like he's in his mid-twenties with purple hair and a ridiculous suit. You look at him through the mirror and notice, as he's ordering a cappuccino, he's staring at you.
You look down, but you still feel his eyes burning into you. It makes you feel uncomfortable but you simply try to forget about it and add the whipped cream and marshmallows into the hot chocolate before turning around to give them to the woman and child. You feel proud of yourself as you admire the beautiful display of whipped cream and overflowing foam sitting on top the mugs.
As you place them on the counter, you can't help meeting the male customers eyes. Again. They are still looking at you. You give a quick smile and then look away. You quickly turn back to the counter behind you and make the cappuccino for the strange customer. He's so weird. You shake as you wonder how long he's been staring at you. Ugh, I already don't like him.
YOU ARE READING
Can You Keep A Secret? (Tokyo Ghoul x Reader)
Fanfiction"Why are you looking at me like that?" He says to you. "You've been acting strange," you say slowly, "and why have you bought so much coffee? You never used to like it." "Uhh... my friend showed it to me," he says. In theory, he should be great at l...
