1.
They say, "It's the little things that count."
While there might be some truth to that, how much is really there? Are the small details of life truly worth our attention when compared to the grand ideas of history's greatest minds? Frankly, I don't have a solid answer. For now, though, I'd rather not think about it.
The afternoon sun, filtered through dusty blinds, cast long stripes across the open pages of 'One Hundred Years of Solitude.' Not that I noticed. My head rested on the book, a faint snore escaping my lips. Time, like the turning pages I'd abandoned, seemed to have stopped. In the quiet hum of my apartment, the only urgency was the next nap.
The sun momentarily stung my eyes, prompting me to adjust the blinds. My gaze swept across my bedroom. An unfinished chess game sat in the corner, a bookshelf filled with well-loved books awaited a reread, and the faint sounds of Jodale downstairs drifted up—what he was doing, I couldn't quite discern.
I closed the book I was engrossed in, carefully placing it back on the shelf before sinking into my bed. As my head nestled into the pillow, I decided to revisit the quote that had lingered in my thoughts earlier: "It's the little things that count."
Just as I was about to embark on this mental reevaluation, a sound pierced through my contemplation.
And Jodale entered my bedroom.
I turned to face him. His face was a sight. His jaw was dropped, his eyes were wide, and his face was frozen. It looked like he'd just seen a ghost.
"Owen... What happened here..."
I didn't know what he was talking about. I'd looked around earlier, and everything seemed fine. I sat up to get a better view of the room.
Oh.
"Now that I look at it, it is a little messy."
Jodale snapped out of his shock and his face turned serious.
"You've been living like this every day since you became unemployed. Reading and sleeping and being lazy."
Here we go again. This wasn't the first time we'd had this conversation. I pulled out my usual defense.
"Hey, I'm not bothering anybody, am I?"
"...Owen."
"Hm?"
Jodale looked down and sighed. I could tell something about this conversation was different.
"There's a cafe that recently opened in the Matcha City town square. It's called Oolong Cafe. I want you to apply for a job there."
...?!
I had to take a moment to process what he said. I had to get a job at a cafe that was really far away...
Jodale finished his argument.
"Look, as your brother, I can't let you live like this. Between the missed appointments, you not paying your share of the rent, and this messy room... You need to change, and I think working at that cafe is the only way."
I'd been listening to everything he said, but I wasn't ready to agree yet. I had one more question.
"Why do you want me to work so far from home?"
Jodale gave me a stern look. I could tell he still cared about me a lot.
"Because... If you don't turn your life around, I'll have to cut you off..."
What?
"...which is why I'm forbidding you from coming back until you do."
"..."
I didn't know what to say. My brother was going to abandon me, and even though I could tell he didn't want to do this, it still hurt.
"I- I don't want to..."
"This isn't a suggestion, Owen."
With that, he turned to leave, but before he did, he said one more thing.
"You have until tomorrow afternoon to successfully apply, otherwise, I'm kicking you out."
Jodale Chamomile closed the door and left. The quiet hum of the apartment felt like the only good thing at that moment.
I got out of bed, carefully stepping around the clothes on the floor. I grabbed a cold drink from the mini fridge and sat back down to think. Usually, I would have argued, but this time I had no choice. I had to apply for a job at the Oolong Cafe. Life can be tough sometimes.
I quickly grabbed my phone and looked up the Oolong Cafe. A few reviews seemed interesting, but it didn't look like anything special. It had a good rating, and people seemed to like working there. I put down my phone and closed my eyes for a moment.
Was there more to life than just relaxing at home? Was I really not happy with things the way they were?
I looked around the room. This was probably the last time I'd see it for a while. My thoughts were all mixed up, but I knew what I had to do. If I couldn't stay here, fine. But I'm not going to like working at that cafe! I'll only do what I have to! That's what I decided.
I went to the computer and quickly filled out a job application. It was getting late. I picked up 'One Hundred Years of Solitude' and read until it was dark.
2.
My morning was packed. I'm not one to create extra work for myself—I usually avoid it. But my job application was accepted, so I actually had a to-do list for the first time in ages. I rolled out of bed, made a cappuccino, took a sip, and opened the blinds I'd closed the night before. Then, I wrote down my schedule and put it in my pocket.
4:00 AM - Return a library book
4:30 AM - Check on a package for Jodale at the post office
5:30 AM - Buy work clothes
6:30 AM - First day at Oolong Cafe
It wasn't a ton of errands, but they were super early. Oolong Cafe opens early, and even though I only had to buy the clothes early, I decided to do everything at once since I was going out anyway.
I put on a black sweater with a cool design and some dark blue jeans that probably needed ironing. Okay, just need my wallet... Um... Where is it?
Like Jodale said, my room was a mess. It took about seven minutes of searching, but I finally found my wallet, shoved it in my pocket, and headed out. But Jodale stopped me.
"Hey, Owen!"
"Yeah...?"
"Please, take care of yourself..."
It was nice of him.
"...I'll visit the cafe sometimes, so keep your phone on."
"Okay, see you."
He nodded, and I left.
It was 3:35 AM, twenty-five minutes before I planned to be at the library. It was cold, and I don't have a car, so I started walking. The library is about ten minutes away. I took a shortcut my brother told me about, down a street with a big tree with bright yellow leaves—you can't miss it—and then onto a backstreet. There were a few stores that don't get many customers and a cat that stared at me... kind of creepy.
I arrived at the library a little before I expected. As the automatic doors slid open, I overheard a bit of a conversation.
"I know, Susan! But please, think about it..."
A fairly tall man stood at the front desk, talking to the librarian. He had sleek black hair and a fancy-looking business suit, complete with a crimson tie. They seemed to be having a serious discussion, but since it wasn't my business, I went to the librarian's desk to return my book. The librarian looked quite young. She wore a gold maxi dress, high heels, and thin, bronze, oval-shaped glasses. It was a nice look.
As I returned my book, the man spoke to me.
"Young man, I noticed you returned 'One Hundred Years of Solitude'. Are you a reader?"
He seemed to want to chat. Since I wasn't in a hurry and the librarian seemed to be taking a while to find the book's ID, I didn't mind talking.
"Not really, I only read when I'm bored."
"Interesting, you seemed like someone who might prioritize reading. Young people should read more these days."
"Do you come to this library often, sir?"
"Huh. Funny you ask, I'm a writer. Some of my books are even here..."
Wow!
"...Although, to answer your question, I do spend a lot of time here."
As the conversation slowed down, the librarian finished checking out the book, but I wanted to ask something first. I turned to the man.
"Um... Sir? Could you tell me where your books are?"
"Oh? Yes, they're over there."
He pointed to a section of the library.
I went to the area he pointed to and looked at his books. One caught my eye, a collection of poems. They were pretty good. The author's name was 'Louisa Evans', a strange pen name for a guy... I decided to check it out. I had errands to run!
A lot of time had passed since I left the house, as expected. At 4:15 AM, I walked into town. Unlike where I was before, this place was busy. People rushed by, cars sped down the street, and I could hear chatter as I walked. There was never a dull moment in Matcha City.
I reached the post office in 5 minutes. It was unusually crowded for a Tuesday. Don't these people have jobs? Anyway, I needed to find Jodale's package...
I went to the front counter to ask about the drop-offs.
"Um... Excuse me?"
Even though I was right in front of her and she seemed to be facing me, she just stared blankly. I called out again, raising my voice a little.
"Excuse me!"
This time, she answered.
"Hm? Oh, hello, what do you need?"
"Could you please tell me where the drop-offs are?"
"Oh. Yes, this way."
I followed her deeper into the post office. I'd never been anywhere except the front desk before. When we reached the drop-off area, I thanked her and looked for Jodale's package. Actually, it wasn't even in a package; Jodale ordered a mug. It wasn't hard to find among the boxes. It was a plastic mug with a smiley face and a label: 'SINENSIS INCORPORATED'. Anyway, since it was there, I called Jodale. He answered.
"Heelloo~"
That's how he always answered calls. I don't think it's very polite.
"...So, I'm at the post office, and guess what?"
"It's there?"
"It's here."
He said he'd come to the post office later to get it and thanked me. Then, he hung up. I sighed and left the post office... which took longer than it should have because I forgot the way out. I took a deep breath of fresh air and realized I was halfway done with my errands, but the day was far from over. I checked my watch.
5:30 AM.
3.
The walk from here to the Ristretto Clothing Department was exactly thirty minutes, so I'd arrive right on time. As I walked to the town square, I thought about things.
'Would I even be good at making coffee?' or 'where am I going to stay?' These thoughts filled my head. They were worth thinking about. I didn't have any relatives nearby, except Jodale, and I didn't have any friends I could stay with... What was I going to do? As the sun came up, the morning chill faded, but I was hot in my sweater. Luckily, I wore an undershirt. I ducked into an alley to take off my sweater without being seen and revealed a white T-shirt.
Soon, I reached the Ristretto Clothing Department. Before I liked staying inside, my brother and I would shop here for nice clothes and talk about business. I opened the door and heard a bell.
The cashier greeted me.
"Welcome!"
"Buenos dias."
I knew exactly where the clothes were.
I went to a spot near the back of the store, and the clothes were right where I thought they'd be. The polo shirts, aprons, and black pants were exactly what the job description said. I picked out a few nice sets of clothes. After trying them on, I bought them and left. It was now 6:25 AM.
Wait, what?! I'm going to be late for work!
I quickly looked up the location and ran as fast as I could. Somehow, I made it to the Oolong Cafe just in time. Outside was a beautiful eastern redbud tree, blooming brightly in the spring. People were already inside, so I guessed they opened early. As I went inside, a girl almost knocked me over and dropped a tray of glasses.
"Whoops, I'm so sorry! Are you okay?!"
I was fine, but she was soaked. Looking closer, she seemed to work there.
"I'm fine, but you're drenched. You should go wash up."
She seemed to realize she was covered in liquid.
"Eh... eh...?! No, no, don't look at me!"
I understood. It was like I suddenly knew everything. My life flashed before my eyes as I gained knowledge that not even a classroom of elite students or an energy-saving high school detective could understand. What did I know?
...this girl was a klutz.
I held out my hand to help her up.
"Please, you don't have to be so nice to a girl you just met..."
She was right...
"Okay."
I took back my hand and walked into the cafe. I thought I heard her pouting, but I didn't look back. Besides, I was now five minutes late because of her. Inside, it was almost dreamy. Baristas were taking orders, making drinks, and sharing appetizers. I went to the front counter to check in.
A cute girl greeted me.
"Hello!"
"Ah... Hi... Um... I'm here to check in as an employee?"
"Mm, yes! May I see your ID?"
Good thing I had my wallet. I gave it to her.
"Thank you! Please wait a moment. Tee hee~"
Were all the people here airheads?
As she scanned my ID, I looked around. There were all sorts of people here. I smelled coffee. I could really use a cup right now...
The girl finished scanning my ID.
"Yes, Mr... Chamomile? The employee-only area and changing rooms are in the back, but you should talk to the manager in his office; it's also in the back."
"Alright, thank you."
I turned to go to the manager's office. Then, she said something else.
"It's too bad you came on such a busy day..."
I grabbed the handle of the manager's office door and opened it. Inside, a short man sat at a desk in the middle of the room, working on a small laptop and drinking coffee. He was focused. I sat in one of the two chairs across from his desk. He looked up.
"Ah, You must be Owen Chamomile. It's a pleasure to meet you!"
He made a dramatic pose, and before I knew it, I was shaking his hand.
"Yeah, pleasure to meet you too..."
He was a little too energetic for me. And he talked fast.
"Okay, let's get down to business!"
He pointed to a chart on the wall that looked artistic. The chart showed how to make different coffees and what flavors went well together.
"So, you'll be a barista. You'll make and serve coffee and other drinks and snacks. We have 'busy hours' when lots of people are here. You can take breaks when it's slow. You were a little late, but that's okay. You can check in between 6:30 AM and 7:00 AM if we have enough people here to open. We close at 2:00 PM."
It was a lot, but I'd figure it out. I nodded.
"I'm glad you understand. I believe in learning by doing. Go change and start your duties."
As I got up, I realized something.
"Wait, I didn't get your name."
"Huh? Oh, sorry. I'm Espresso Rossi, but most people call me 'Ess'."
Ess. That's a nickname.
I left the office and went to the changing room. On the way, I saw the girl I bumped into earlier.
"Oh, you talked to Mr. Ess!"
"I guess. Although, 'talking' is a bit much..."
"Heh... He talks fast, doesn't he?"
"Uh, huh."
"Yeah... He's always energetic. I think he's charming!"
A charming, fast-talking, energetic, and kind of goofy manager. This might take some getting used to.
"Well, I guess I'll see you around."
"Ha. Yes, see you!"
She went into a room, maybe a closet. Probably to get something. Anyway, it's none of my business. I changed into my polo shirt, apron, and black pants. Then, I stood behind the door to the employee area. I felt the pressure. I still didn't know where I was going to stay or what I was going to do. But I had promised myself something.
I'll only do what I have to. That's what I decided.
I turned the knob on the door.
4.
How does working in a cafe actually work? Since I used to work in business, I knew how a normal work environment should be. But a cafe? I was totally clueless. I stood by the wall, just watching to try and understand how things flowed.
It seemed like most of the employees had memorized the menu, which is probably something I could never do. Everyone seemed to know each other, which meant there were customers who came often enough to be recognized. The last thing I noticed was the most important: how to actually make the different kinds of coffee. It's not that I've never made coffee before, but there were some items on the menu I didn't recognize... Not to mention the unique coffee variations this cafe had.
Once I had a general idea of how things operated, I decided to start working. I mean, even though it was my first day, I still had to earn some money.
Surprisingly, the day went by smoothly. The other employees were kind and helped me, even when I accidentally got in their way a little. At 1:30 PM, thirty minutes before closing time, there were only a few customers left. So, everyone went to the employee-only area for a break, and two people were assigned to wipe down the tables and handle any customers who came in during the slow period. I ended up being one of those people.
As I was wiping down the tables with a big cloth, the other person called out to me.
"Hey!"
I recognized that voice. It was the girl who got soaked earlier. Now that I think about it, I didn't even know her name... Anyway, I wanted to leave in thirty minutes, and I didn't really want to make small talk. I just wanted to finish my task. I tried ignoring her.
"..."
"...Hey!"
She called out to me again, so I ignored her again.
"..."
"Hey, Owen Chamomile!"
"...!"
There it was! She'd called out to me three times, and the last time she used my full name (how did she even know that???). I couldn't ignore her now, and even if I did, I knew she'd keep calling me until I answered. I responded in an obviously annoyed tone.
"...Yes? What is it?"
"Are you enjoying the cafe?"
It seemed like she was ignoring my tone, which clearly said I didn't want to talk, or maybe she just didn't get it.
"It's... cool... I guess."
"So, what's your favorite coffee?"
Deep down, I probably thought this conversation was kind of nice, but I wanted to leave. So, just as I was about to answer "cappuccino," someone walked into the cafe. Even though I didn't see who it was because my back was turned to the door, the girl in front of me made a face like she had eaten something bad. Confused, I turned around.
It was the man I had talked to in the library, the author with the pen name "Louisa Evans." I turned back to the girl.
"Are you okay?"
"T-That man...!"
"Huh?"
I didn't notice anything special about the guy, not at the library and not here at the cafe. He was wearing the same clothes as before, and he seemed to be in the same, if not a better, mood. For the most part, he looked like a regular customer.
"What about him...?"
She took my hand, which was soft and smooth... We ducked behind the counter. I was totally confused...
"Ugh, seriously? What are we do-"
Just as I was about to raise my voice a little to ask what was going on, she put a finger to my lips and shushed me.
"Just look."
"..."
She left her spot to take the man's order while I watched from behind the counter. The man ordered his coffee, and she made it... Pretty normal so far. She made some small talk with the man, then quietly came back behind the counter. I asked her what she wanted me to see.
"Everything looked pretty normal to me...?"
"Wait, it's going to happen right now."
"What..."
We turned our attention back to the man. He was writing something on a small piece of paper, which he put in his pocket. Then, the man did something strange.
He got up with the cup of coffee in his hand, went to the trash can in the back, and dumped the coffee while keeping the mug. I was speechless.
"W-Why would he waste good coffee...?!"
The girl looked sad.
"I don't know..."
The man took out a few dollar bills from his pocket, placed them on the table, and left. I went to check the table; nothing was out of place. Other than the money, the table looked exactly the same as before he came. I didn't even need to clean it again. Even though it was annoying to see a man waste perfectly good coffee, he paid, so there was nothing wrong. She spoke...
"So, isn't this terrible? That man always comes in, orders a regular flat white coffee, dumps it in the trash as soon as he gets it, and then leaves after paying..."
To be honest, it was now 2:00 PM. I really wanted to leave, but it seemed like there was more to this than just small talk... Everyone in the cafe said goodbye to us as they packed up and left. The manager tossed me a key, expecting me to close up the shop. The last person to leave, which wasn't me or the girl standing in front of me, turned the sign from "open" to "closed."
"Owen, we need to figure this out!"
"Uh... What...? But-"
Then, she got closer, forcing me to back up.
"Please!"
"But, it's past closing time..."
She came close one last time and took my hands in hers.
They were warm.
"We have to, because... Something's amiss!"
"Something's amiss"; the words of a clumsy but curious person. The cafe seemed frozen in time as we stood there, my hands in hers. She seemed convinced that any small problem could turn into a big one. Again, it seemed like I had no choice but to agree. I might as well spend a few minutes.
"So, let me get this straight, you want to know why that man dumped his coffee?"
"Yes!"
"Okay."
To find the answer, I'd probably need to use some kind of logic. Personally, I think my logic skills are average; I'd probably have a better chance of finding the answer by just asking, but that chance was gone now. Let's think... Why did he dump the coffee...
Then, I came up with a conjecture.
"Ooh, did you figure it out?"
"Well... It's more of a theory than anything. I can't actually prove it's true right now."
Her face lit up.
"Tell me!"
Jeez, she's way too excited about this. Let's just get it over with...
"To start, let's look at the facts. I know that man is a writer because I met him earlier today. He seems to like writing poems... I saw him talking to the librarian, her name was... Susan, I think? He has a crush on her, that's the answer."
"Huh? But, how is that..."
"How is that the solution? I'll explain. First, I overheard him at the library, 'I know, Susan! But please, think about it...', which proves he knew the librarian on a much more personal level than a normal visitor."
"Alright, even if that makes sense, how do you know it's love?"
"That's because of his pen name. I checked out one of his books while I was at the library this morning."
I handed her the book I checked out, and she looked at the author's name on the cover.
"Did you get it yet?"
"Hmm..."
She kept looking, seeming confused. I'll just tell her the answer...
"His pen name is an anagram; if you rearrange the letters, it says..."
She smiled, finishing my sentence in a happy tone.
"...I love Susan!"
"Exactly."
Then, her face darkened. I had a feeling it was because...
"But, why did he dump the coffee? Is it because he has an uncontrollable, love-related habit?"
Yep, I knew it. I didn't really explain what his love for the librarian had to do with him dumping the coffee. But I did have a theory, and I just needed to check something first.
"Do you know the name of the company that makes the mugs we use here?"
"Um... Why do you need that? Anyway, yeah, the company that makes the mugs is... Sinensis Incorporated."
With that, I knew my theory was right.
"That explains why he dumped the coffee."
"How...?"
She still couldn't figure it out. Wow, are her logic skills worse than mine?! To finally end this, let's give her the full answer.
"Sinensis Incorporated is a company that seems to like putting cute symbols on their mugs. So, were you paying attention to what symbol might have been on the mug you gave him?"
"No, I wasn't!"
"Let's say the mug had a heart symbol on it. If it did, then it all makes sense... He wanted the mug."
"But... why?"
"Think about it, he's a writer, right? And he's in love with Susan. What does he do as a writer?"
"He writes... poems?"
"Exactly! Since Sinensis Incorporated puts those cute symbols on their mugs, He probably saw a mug with a heart, or maybe a flower, or something else that reminded him of Susan. He wanted to give her a love poem, but not just any love poem, a love poem in a mug. And he was being respectful, he paid for the coffee, even if he didn't drink it, and that paid for the mug."
"A poem in a mug?"
"Yes! He wrote something on that little slip of paper, remember? That was probably a short poem, or maybe just a sweet message. He left the money for the coffee, which really paid for the mug, so he could give it to Susan. It's a way to show her how he feels and maybe convince her to give him another chance."
"Wow, that's... actually really thoughtful!"
"It is. A little unusual, but thoughtful."
5.
With the issue solved, I could finally go home... Oh, right, I had no home to go to.
The cafe had been utterly silent since I'd laid out my theory. The girl in front of me, was just standing there, probably still processing everything I'd just said. The time was now 2:40 PM. Even though I had nowhere to go, we should probably leave now. I spoke in a flat tone...
"Um... Now that you have the answer, we should get going. I need to lock up the cafe."
"Ah, right..."
So, with that, we both walked outside. I inserted the key into the bolt, turned it, and tugged on the door to make sure it was locked. I looked over and saw her still standing there, staring at the floor. I thought she would have left by now? What did she want? Could it be that she was going to beat me up and take my... Wait, no, she was a klutz. She wouldn't do that.
"Huh? Do you need something?"
"Owen... If there's something wrong, please tell me."
"What...?"
"You've been looking down since the moment I first saw you! It's been bothering me..."
Oh, I must have let my predicament show on my face. Should I tell her? Hm... I guess it wouldn't hurt, but I don't think she could do anything to help, though.
"I can't really go back home... My brother kinda kicked me out."
"That- that's horrible!"
Tell me about it...
"Why did he kick you out?!"
"Because I-"
Wait... The real reason was because I lazed around the house all day, reading and sleeping. Maybe it's best not to tell her that. I'll use a different excuse.
"It's because I'm unemployed."
"So, what are you going to do?"
"...I don't know."
I didn't have any plans or anything. The best idea I had in mind was to find a cardboard box on the street and fend for myself, which didn't seem like too bad of an idea. During the lull in the conversation, I went deep into thought to imagine myself going through that situation. Then, she gave a suggestion...
"Ooh, I have an idea! You could stay with me at my grandma's inn!"
"Wha- Really?"
"Yeah, we have a ton of space! And we don't really get visitors too often..."
An inn that didn't get visitors... Odd. But, hey, at least I'd have a place to stay. I'll take her up on her offer.
"Yeah, if your grandma doesn't have any issues with it, I'll stay at the inn."
"Then, it's settled! I'll call grandma and tell her I have a friend staying!"
Friend? I didn't realize we were on that kind of basis... We're more like co-workers, if anything. I'm seriously not complaining, though. Now that I thought about it, I'm staying with someone without knowing their name or phone number. It hit me that I was about to go with someone to a place I didn't know, and I didn't even have a way to contact her if we got separated. It was a little nerve wracking. I'd be best to ask for her basic information before proceeding.
"Hey, could I get your name and phone number..."
I trailed off at the end. It was a request that sounded okay in my head, but it sounded too blunt when actually said. I was worried she would think I was being weird. Unfortunately for my dignity, she heard me and responded anyway.
"That's a great idea!"
She playfully extended her hand for me to shake.
"I'm Brioche Onare!"
I was relieved. She didn't seem to think I was being strange. I was reluctant at first, but it seemed like I was truly not going to have the same life that I had before. Perhaps my brother was right, this might change me. A girl who practically embodied Murphy's laws, who made me make sense of things that were amiss in the Oolong Cafe. These were going to be very long work days, but maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't be so bad.
And so, I shook her hand, confirming our agreement and traded contact info with her. I saved her number under 'Brioche (Cafe Klutz)' in my phone, and she saved mine as 'Owen (New Cafe Friend).' We planned to go to the inn right away to check in with her grandma, but there was something I'd like to take care of first. I felt a pull, a need to finish what I started.
"Come on!"
"Hmm... You go on ahead, I'll catch up."
"Alright, I'll see you there!"
I waved until I couldn't see her beyond the horizon anymore, then I turned around and walked in the opposite direction. My destination? The library. I wanted to find a quiet place to finish the book so I could return it the same day. Plus, I had a feeling, a little nagging thought, that I needed to see if my theory about the author and Susan was right. This time, instead of using a shortcut, the quickest way to get to the library was to use the main road; I took it and got there in less than fifteen minutes.
Just as I was about to walk in, someone stepped out. It was the man with the odd pen name, whose book I was about to finish; I still didn't know his real name. He had a huge smile on his face and a certain pep in his step that I'd never seen him with before. He looked like he was walking on air. Although it was a little weird to me at first, I had a feeling deep down in my heart... a feeling of hope. Then, I walked in.
Susan, the librarian, was whistling a happy-go-lucky tune as she put away books on the shelf; this meant that nobody was currently at the counter. She seemed lighter, happier than before. I was truly here to finish this book, but I suppose it wouldn't hurt to check... That's when I saw it.
"I wonder..."
There was a mug on the counter with a heart on it, and inside of the mug was a small slip of paper.