DALTON
I got to The Grind at eight sharp, the bell above the door announcing my arrival to the smell of roasted beans and disinfectant. Mel was already at the register, her blonde bun pinned with military precision, and Lena was arranging muffins like they were auditioning for a photo shoot.
"Morning, sunshine," Lena sang. "You look like you slept on a keyboard."
"I did," I muttered, tying my apron. "The laptop survived. My back didn't."
Ben snorted from behind the espresso machine. "We need to start a GoFundMe for your spine."
"Start one for my rent first," I said, flashing a grin I didn't feel. The eviction notice felt heavier in my bag than my entire body weight.
Mel eyed me over her reading glasses. "You okay, Aria?"
"Living the dream," I said, because what else was I supposed to say? I'm fine had become my religion.
She sighed. "You don't have to pretend with me."
"I'm not pretending," I lied, and busied myself cleaning the counter before she could ask anything else.
By nine, the shop was a battlefield of caffeine addicts. Regulars lined up, the espresso hissed like an angry cat, and the morning crowd rolled through in waves of perfume, briefcases, and barely concealed frustration.
Normally, Dalton would walk in at 9:15 on the dot crisp suit, unreadable face, ordering his usual black Americano without even glancing up. But today, it wasn't him who came through the door.
It was Marcus.
"Well, well, look who's downgraded," I teased, reaching for a cup. "Where's His Highness today? Did the kingdom fall?"
Marcus chuckled, leaning on the counter. "He's in a meeting. Very important. You know, world domination and all that."
Lena snorted. "You two talk about him like he's Voldemort."
"Oh, he's worse," I said. "Voldemort had emotions. Dalton Gray has spreadsheets."
Ben joined in. "Does he ever smile? Or does he just glare people into submission?"
Marcus grinned. "You'd be surprised. He's... complicated."
"Complicated is what women say before regretting everything," I muttered.
They all laughed, and for a moment, it felt normal. Light. Like the world wasn't falling apart one overdue bill at a time.
Marcus's smile softened. "So, you find a place yet?"
I exhaled, pretending to polish the counter. "Still looking. I've seen a few, but they either want a deposit I can't afford or look like crime scenes."
He frowned. "You know you can ask for help, right?"
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I just don't want to owe anyone."
"You mean Dalton," he teased.
I shot him a look. "Exactly."
Marcus laughed. "You're impossible."
"Tell me something I don't know."
He chuckled, grabbed the cup I'd placed down. "Well, tell Mel her favorite customer sends his regards."
"She'll probably build him a statue," Lena said.
"Or name a drink after him The Gray Freeze," Ben added.
"Too accurate," I muttered, smirking as Marcus waved and left.
---
The rush slowed around noon. My blood sugar was dipping, but I ignored the warning signs — dizziness, that hollow feeling in my chest. I just needed to make it to three.
That's when the door opened, and in walked trouble — expensive trouble.
He was the type who wore entitlement like a fragrance: slick suit, gold cufflinks, and the confidence of someone who'd never been told no. He scrolled on his phone as he approached the counter.
"Afternoon," I said politely. "What can I get you?"
He didn't look up. "Do you have oat milk?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Make it a large oat latte. Two pumps vanilla, one caramel. Extra hot."
"Sure thing," I said, ringing it up. "Name for the order?"
He finally looked at me, brows raised. "You don't know who I am?"
I blinked. "Should I?"
He gave a tight, condescending smile. "James Adler. I practically fund this place."
"Good for you," I said dryly, handing him his receipt. "We'll call you when it's ready."
He narrowed his eyes. "You've got a mouth on you, don't you?"
I froze for half a second, then forced a polite smile. "Only when provoked."
He leaned closer. "What's your name?"
"Aria."
"Well, Aria, I'll be sure to let your manager know how pleasant you are."
"Please do," I said sweetly. "She loves customer feedback."
His smirk widened. "I bet she does."
I turned away before I said something that would get me fired and focused on steaming milk, counting to ten, praying he'd take his overpriced coffee and go. But apparently, the universe had other plans.
As soon as I set the cup down, he took one sip, grimaced dramatically, and slammed it on the counter. "This is cold."
"It's literally steaming," I said before I could stop myself.
His eyes darkened. "Are you implying I'm lying?"
I blinked. "No, sir. I'm implying you're mistaken."
He stared at me like I'd just spit in his drink. Then, with a slow, calculated smile, he said, "I'll be right back."
My stomach sank as he walked to the back, phone already to his ear.
Five minutes later, Mel came out, looking uneasy.
"Aria," she said softly. "Mr. Adler just called me."
"I know," I said flatly. "He didn't like his latte."
Her lips pressed tight. "He says you were rude."
"I was polite until he wasn't."
"I believe you," she said gently. "But he's... important to the business. He's on the board that approves our supply contracts."
I felt the humiliation flush through me like fire. "So what are you saying?"
"I need you to apologize."
My jaw clenched. "He called me rude for breathing."
"I know, but I can't lose his account."
Silence. Then, swallowing my pride, I said, "Fine."
Mel exhaled in relief. "Thank you."
I walked over to where he sat, smirking like the devil himself. "Mr. Adler," I said quietly. "I apologize if I was disrespectful. It wasn't my intention."
He tilted his cup. "Apology accepted, sweetheart. Try to remember your place next time."
My nails dug into my palms, but I smiled, because I needed this job more than my dignity.
When I turned around, I caught Lena's furious gaze. Ben's too. They knew how much that had cost me.
I just shrugged like it was nothing. Because in this life, sometimes survival means pretending it doesn't hurt.
By three, my shift ended. I said goodbye to the team, waved off Marcus who was coming in for his afternoon coffee run, and walked to my car. The late sun burned against my skin, my body heavy, brain foggy.
When I slid into the driver's seat, everything spun. My hands shook as I reached for my juice box in my bag, but my vision was blurring. The sounds around me turned into a low hum distant voices, traffic, someone calling my name.
I blinked hard, tried to steady my breathing. The monitor on my wrist beeped low. Too low.
I remember tapping on the window someone shouting. Then the door opened, and I saw Marcus's face alarmed, fading in and out like a dream.
"Aria! Hey, hey stay with me, alright?"
I wanted to tell him I was fine. That I just needed a minute. But the words wouldn't come out.
The world tilted sideways, then everything went black.