The sound of a bell chime echoed throughout the cafe. A cheerful young woman walked in, looking around the empty cafe. “First customer.” Fidel sang out.

He nudged Tristan to get his attention. “Watch me how to take an order.” he said as he stood in front of the counter, posture straight, left hand on right wrist, sporting a polite smile. “Welcome to Kofienrest Cafe! May I take your order?” He asked in a cheerful tone.

Tristan was behind him to observe. Like his observation last week, the customer’s expression brightened at Fidel’s cheerful approach to her.

“Um…” the customer squinted her eyes as she looked at the menu. “Can I get a cappuccino, please?”.

“Drink in or take out?”

“Take out please.”

Tristan leaned his head closer to watch Fidel process the customer’s order in the Point Of Sale machine.

“Can I get your name, ma’am?”

“Abigail.”

“Thank you!" Fidel typed the customer’s name on the machine. “That will be one hundred sixty pesos please!”

The customer fished her wallet in her purse, then handed a bill to Fidel. He straightened the bill with his thumbs on his palms and examined it for potential damages. “I received two hundred pesos!”

Fidel pressed a few more buttons on the machine, then the receipt printed, and the cash register popped out at the same time.

He took the correct change, closed the cashier, then handed out each bill to the customer’s palms as he counted the customer’s change. “Your change is forty pesos, ma’am! Please take a seat while you wait for your order!” he nod and gestured at the seats behind her.

The customer turned around to take a nearby seat.

Fidel grabbed the receipt, then showed it close to Tristan. “Each receipt will print out the order and the customer’s name so you avoid mixing orders around, especially during rush hours.” He pointed at the printed name on the receipt, then he placed the receipt on the counter and started making a cup of cappuccino.

Just like last week again, Fidel’s swift and efficient work flow captivated Tristan. This time, he had the privilege of watching him closer without Fidel pausing to teach him.

After a while, Fidel grabbed a paper cup in a cabinet, placed it below the Portafilter spout, then pressed the single shot button.

As the coffee dripped down the cup, Fidel grabbed a milk from the chiller, and a stainless steel pitcher in a different cabinet. “Come here! I’ll show you how to steam milk.”

Fidel showed to Tristan the proper way to steam milk and showed him a technique on how to make it better. After he was done, he swirled the pitcher around to show Tristan the smoothness of the steamed milk.

Tristan didn't know why, but despite already familiar with how to steam milk, Fidel somehow made it easy and exciting, enough that he wanted to try it out himself already.

Fidel grabbed the cup, carefully poured the milk in, then placed the lid on the cup. “Just the last thing we need.”

He reached for a small paper bag below the counter, placed the cup inside as well as some tissues, and turned around to face the customer's direction. “Ma’am Abigail!”

The customer twisted their head in Fidel’s direction. They stood up and went to the counter to grab her order. “Thank you! Come again!” Fidel said as the customer walked out of the cafe.

Once the bell chime stopped ringing, Fidel turned around and looked at Tristan with a teasing smirk, “Pretty cool, right?” he chuckled at his own joke. It made Tristan chuckle faintly at his antics.

After four minutes, the bell chime rang again. A stoic, middle-aged man in a business suit walked inside the cafe. “Alright, try to take his order, Tristan.” Fidel pat his back to give him some encouragement.

However, Tristan froze as he felt a spike of nervousness instead.

He went in front of the counter, mimicking Fidel’s posture and form. “W-Welcome to Kofienrest Cafe! H-ho- I mean- May I take your order?” he smiled awkwardly.

Oh gosh! I already messed up!

Despite the chill temperature inside the cafe, he could feel beads of sweat form on his forehead.

“Flat White, take out.”

Tristan shifted around as he entered their order on the machine. “N-name please?”

“Roberto.”

“T-that will be one hundred sixty please.”

The customer reached for his wallet in his pocket, then handed out a crisp bill to Tristan. He pulled it on the customer’s hand, then flatten it with his thumbs. “I receive o-one thousand pesos.”

His hands shook as he typed out the name of the customer. He tried to keep his composure despite his nervousness overtaking his mind and body.

He pressed the “confirm” button, and the cash register opened as the receipt printed at the same time.

Tristan heard shuffling noise behind him while he’s taking the correct amount of change, but his focus was finishing the interaction already. “H-here’s your change sir!” he slid the bills each in front of the customer as he counted them.

“Thank you for ordering s- sir! P-please take a seat while you wait for your order!” his nervousness increased tenfold when his voice cracked. He gestured at the seats while trying his best not to look embarrassed.

The customer, however, simply nod and went to grab a seat. Tristan turned around, palms on his face. “That was so embarrassing!” he whispered loud.

Fidel pat Tristan on the back, amused by the interaction. “It’s alright! After a few times, you’ll get the hang of it!” he said before continuing making a Flat White.

When Fidel grabbed a pitcher and a gallon of milk, Tristan leaned closer to his side. “C-can I try?”

“Oh! Sure!” he handed the pitcher and gallon of milk onto Tristan's hands.

Tristan poured the milk in the pitcher, then twisted the knob to let out some steam buildup first. The loud, sudden noise surprised him. Afterwards, he placed the steamer inside the milk, then slowly dialed the knob as the steam did its work.

Fidel was on his side, watching how Tristan steam milk with a proud look on his place.

Once Tristan finished steaming the milk, he dialed the knob to turn the steamer off and removed it carefully. Then he began to pour the milk onto the cup with slight ease until it was almost full and placed a lid to cover the cup.

"You did good!" Fidel cheered, complete with two thumbs up, which boosted Tristan's mood. Tristan shot him an assuring smile before he took a small paper bag and packed the cup inside alongside some tissues.

With his confidence high, Tristan turned around to face the customer's direction with a polite smile. "S-sir Roberto!"

He felt slightly annoyed that his nervousness came back. The customer turned their phone off, then stood up to go to the counter. Tristan handed the paper bag to them, composure maintained. "Here’s your order, sir! T-thank you and come again!”

They nod, grabbed the paper bag, and walked out of the cafe.

Once the customer exited the cafe doors, Tristan let out a sigh of relief. “Nice, your first customer. I told ya you can do it!” Fidel gave him two thumbs up and with that bright smile, Tristan feel some relief having Fidel's big approval.

After a few minutes, the bell chime rang again. Tristan turned around to greet the customer. Despite some lingering anxiety, he’s more prepared to attend to customers thanks to Fidel’s encouragement.

I’m so glad to have him teach me the ropes around the cafe.

Just like Fidel told Tristan, he got used to talking to customers after a few more times, and felt confident enough that he could communicate and serve customers without Fidel’s supervision. His guidance and presence made Tristan’s work experience an absolute blast. And because of Fidel's easygoing personality, Tristan quickly became friends together.

Fidel taught him other brewing types, techniques on how to make espresso better, latte art, and making Frappes. He also monitored his work flow and gave constructive tips on how to be more efficient.

It helped Tristan increase his work speed.

While Tristan still struggled a bit doing unfamiliar tasks, he easily overcame those struggles, thanks to Fidel’s support.

His skills were still a far cry from Fidel’s, but Tristan gained a lot of experience after only working for a few days.

Tristan had also met Ernest. To his surprise, he was the opposite of Fidel. Ernesto was silent and quite introverted, but he was approachable when it comes asking for help.

During his last day of probation, Tristan learned a lot from Fidel and Ernest’s guidance, enough that he could work without any supervisions anymore.

He worked to improve his communication skills to customers. No longer a stuttering mess, but a more confident barista who’s ready to serve customers with a polite smile.

Tristan was glad that Samantha encouraged him to apply for this job. He never expected that being a barista would bring him so much joy, a stark contrast to his homework filled high school days.

With the scent of coffee and soft music, Tristan looked forward to a new journey in his life.

Fidel noticed Tristan looked deep into his thoughts while wiping the counter clean. Suddenly, a devious idea formed in his mind that made him smirk.

He tiptoed behind Tristan, then slowly but surely poked both of his sides

“Ah!” Tristan jolted. Some customers looked in his direction, confused, after hearing his loud voice.

Tristan turned around and saw Fidel bark out a loud laugh at his reaction. “Y-you jerk!” he smacked his shoulder in retaliation, which only made Fidel laugh even harder. “Your reaction-! That was so worth it!”

Tristan glared at Fidel, who continued to just laugh at him.

But something snapped in Tristan’s mind.

His eyes paid more attention to his expression, his ears to his laugh. He couldn’t stop gazing at his cheerful expression, the way his joyous smiles reached his ears, how his laugh suddenly felt pleasant to listen at, how Fidel's happiness made his chest feel odd.

He swears he could almost see sparkles dancing around him.

Cute.

“Wha…?”

Tristan absentmindedly touched his chest.

W-what is going on…

Fidel wiped tears that formed in his eyes, “I’m sorry! Never doing that again… But your reaction was worth it!”

However, Fidel’s words didn’t reach his ears, as an unfamiliar sensation preoccupied his mind.

Why does it feel so… stuffy?

Fidel’s smirk dropped when he noticed Tristan barely paid attention to him, his eyes staring at this air. “Woah! Are you okay? Your face is turning red.”

He touched Tristan’s forehead with the back of his hand. “You’re hot too! Do you have a cold?”

His touch snapped Tristan out of his thoughts as he choked on his own saliva. His heart beat fast, and for some reason, he couldn’t look at Fidel's concerned gaze.

“I-Excuse me!”

Tristan dashed out of the counter before Fidel could respond, and headed straight into the restroom. He opened the faucet and rapidly washed his face with water, trying to clear his thought off.

Afterwards, he groped around his right to grab some tissues, then wiped his face dry.

Tristan looked up in the mirror. His face was still beet red.

What the heck was that?

Every interaction he had with Fidel played on his mind. His cheers, support.

Smile.

Tristan touched his chest again. He could feel the fast beats of his heart. But it wasn’t nervousness he felt, it was something different.

His mind couldn’t stop thinking about Fidel, his sweet, extroverted, ray of sunshine co-worker-

“Oh, no… I have a crush…”

Tristan stared at the mirror, still shaken by the revelation. But he snapped out of his thoughts shook his head when he realized what he was thinking of. “No, I-I can’t have a crush on him!”

But the more Tristan denied, the more memories of Fidel flashed in his mind. He stared down at the sink, fighting his own thoughts to his very might.

Until he no longer can deny it.

Tristan didn’t realize how long he was inside the restroom until a customer walked in. “S-sorry!” he dashed out of the restroom, missing the confused look of the customer.

Outside the restroom, he walked around in circles in the corridor, trying to calm himself down.

"I can’t go back yet! I still can’t face him!"

But when he noticed his apron, the logical part of his brain reminded him that he still had work to do.

He had to face Fidel again.

“I-I have no choice…”

Despite his nerves, he left the corridor and went back to the counter. One glance from Fidel sent Tristan back to a blushing mess.

His uncharacteristic behavior made Fidel worried again as he dashed in front of him. “Are you ok? Do you need to go home early?” He asked in a concerned tone. It shot another pang of romance in Tristan’s heart.

He quickly shook his head. “N-no! I’m ok!”

Fidel just stared at him, unconvinced. But after a few seconds, he let out a long sigh. “Alright, but if you feel ill, or need some rest, just tell me, ok?”

Before Tristan could respond, the bell chime rang. Fidel went back in front of the counter and greeted the customer. He felt his cheeks blush again as he gawked at Fidel’s cheerful expression while he attended to the customers. This time, looking at it with a love-filled lens.

I’m so screwed…