Aiden's POV:
I sat at the table, already regretting stepping into this diner. The air smelled faintly of grease, and the chatter of patrons grated on my nerves. I looked down at the steaming cup of coffee in front of me, hoping it would be decent enough to salvage this experience. One sip, and I grimaced. Bitter. Overheated. Completely unacceptable.
I waved the waitress over, watching her approach with an expression that could only be described as "done with the world."
"This is too hot," I said, placing the cup back on the table with a deliberate clink.
She didn't even blink, her overly cheerful mask still firmly in place. "It's coffee. It's supposed to be hot."
I stared at her, incredulous. Did she know who I was? "Do you have ice?"
Her smile tightened, and her eyes practically rolled without moving. "We do," she said through gritted teeth.
