Morning came sluggishly, with the faint light of dawn barely cutting through North's grogginess. He yawned and stretched, sitting up on his bed. His messy hair stuck out in all directions as he mumbled, "Is it morning already?" His voice carried the weight of sleeplessness. Rolling onto his side, he almost toppled off the bed, his exhaustion evident.
North wasn't unfamiliar with sleepless nights, but last night had been particularly grueling. The culprit? Johan, who had kept him awake with a call that stretched far into the early hours. North had dozed off at his desk while still clutching his phone, a position that left his body stiff and his mind foggy.
"What a waste of time!" Easter grumbled as he scrubbed the cafeteria floor.
The shop wouldn't open until nine, but prep work started early. Easter's tone was as bitter as the coffee they served.
North dragged himself to a table, resting his head in his hands. "It's too early," he mumbled. "I'm still so sleepy."
"Why are you even tired? What were you doing all night?" asked Than, the shopkeeper, glancing up from a stack of glasses he was polishing. His tone was casual, but the curiosity in his eyes was sharp.
"Oh, North was busy chatting with someone on the phone," Easter chimed in, shooting North an exaggerated look of annoyance. "He thinks the rest of us don't notice."
"Who were you talking to?" Than asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No one," North muttered, his voice defensive. He sighed deeply, realizing how transparent he must look.
Than set his glass down and leaned in, his expression softening. "You can tell me, you know. If it's something serious, I'm here to help."
North hesitated but eventually gave in, recounting the events of the previous night. He left out a few details—like how utterly domineering Johan had been—but the gist of it was clear. By the time North finished, Than was nodding knowingly.
"Johan? I know him," Than said thoughtfully. "We were at the same university. He's... hard to miss. A pretty famous guy, though I can't say I know him well."
"Well, he's annoying," North complained, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "He's bossy and demanding, and now I'm stuck with this debt because of him."
"That sounds rough," Than replied, his voice laced with sympathy. "If there's anything I can do to help—"
"Then give me a raise!" North interjected, his tone a mix of desperation and hope.
Than chuckled, shaking his head. "I don't think that's possible."
North slumped in defeat. "You said you wanted to help," he grumbled.
Easter, meanwhile, had been quietly listening to the conversation while continuing his cleaning. "You know," he said, finally breaking his silence, "if P'Johan bought you that new phone, maybe he's not so bad."
North groaned. "Don't remind me about the phone. He only bought it because he broke my old one."
"Still," Easter teased, "it's a top-of-the-line model. Most people would just cover the repair costs, but P'Johan went all out. That has to mean something."
North rolled his eyes, unwilling to entertain the idea. "He's just trying to shut me up. That's all it is."
Than watched North thoughtfully. "Just be careful, okay? Johan's a popular guy, and you wouldn't want to get caught up in something messy."
North frowned. "What do you mean?"
Before Than could elaborate, the door opened, signaling the arrival of the first customers of the day. The trio sprang into action, setting aside their conversation as they fell into their usual rhythm of serving drinks and clearing tables. Yet, even as North worked, his mind lingered on Johan's deleted message. What could it have said? And why had Johan erased it?
North worked part-time at a cozy café that operated on a rotation system. Saturdays and Sundays were his shifts, ensuring everyone else could attend weekend-only classes. It was a setup that seemed manageable until Johan, his creditor, started complicating his life. North was rinsing glasses at the café when Easter approached, smirking with a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
"North," Easter called.
"Yes?" North replied, not even looking up from the sink.
"I'm rooting for you," Easter said cryptically.
"What?" North glanced at him, puzzled.
"Listen, we're on the same boat. I'll row it myself. Trust me, Captain."
North rolled his eyes. "Trust you with what?"
"You and P'Johan," Easter teased, wiggling his eyebrows.
"What nonsense are you talking about now? P'Johan's been nothing but a headache. He spends most of his time yelling at me!"
Easter grinned wider. "That's not what I heard. Someone's been eavesdropping, and P'Johan seems more invested in you than you realize."
Before North could retort, his phone pinged. It was Johan.
[JOHAN]: Where are you?
[NORTH]: At work.
[JOHAN]: Americano. 30 minutes.
North frowned, confused. "What the hell?" he muttered.
"What's up?" Easter asked, leaning closer.
"P'Johan wants me to deliver coffee. This is a café, not a delivery service!"
North complained, exasperated.
"Come on, he's a VIP customer," Easter teased.
"VIP or not, he's a pain in the—" North stopped mid-sentence, sighing.
With a resigned shrug, he grabbed an apron and prepared to make the delivery.
The condominium Johan lived in was luxurious, almost absurdly so. North, still wearing his café apron, hesitated in front of the pristine building. "This entire floor... is his?" he murmured, gawking at the single door on the twelfth floor.
Johan opened the door, looking effortlessly handsome despite his disheveled appearance. North handed him the coffee awkwardly.
"Here's your Americano," North said.
Johan barely glanced at him. "Put it on the table."
Annoyed but obedient, North stepped into the spacious condo, feeling increasingly out of place. As Johan sipped his coffee, his expression soured.
"Did you make this?" Johan asked.
"No. The barista did."
"You should've made it yourself," Johan remarked flatly, setting the cup aside.
North bristled. "If you wanted me to make it, why not say so? Besides, I'm still learning!"
Johan ignored the protest and gestured toward the kitchen. "Go make another one."
Grumbling under his breath, North shuffled to the kitchen. He fumbled with the unfamiliar coffee machine, only for Johan to appear behind him.
"Do you even know how to use it?" Johan teased.
"Of course, I do!" North retorted, though his clumsy movements betrayed him.
Johan smirked but stepped in to help. Together, they prepared another cup.
This time, Johan drank it without complaint, though his expression remained unreadable.
"Do you really work at a coffee shop?" Johan's voice carried that familiar note of skepticism, as if he doubted North could brew more than a disaster.
"Yes, of course," North replied, his tone clipped but steady.
"Where?"
"Near here. Why do you ask?"
Johan leaned back. "I won't be buying coffee from that shop."
North's grip on the edge of the table tightened. "Then don't take it," he snapped, the words slipping out before he could stop them.
Johan chuckled softly, his amusement only fueling North's irritation. "How cruel," he muttered under his breath.
"Why? Is it that bad?" North shot back, exasperation creeping into his voice as he turned to vent his frustration to an unsuspecting bystander.
Johan's eyes narrowed, his next words landing like a slap. "With the way you talk, are you planning to make coffee for others to drink?"
The insult hung in the air, leaving North momentarily speechless. "Oh my God," he muttered under his breath, biting back the scream that threatened to escape. Why was Johan always so unkind to him? The man was a riddle wrapped in cruelty, and North was tired of trying to solve it.
"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't believe you're friends with P'Hill," North said finally, his tone sharp with annoyance.
Johan picked up his coffee cup, took a slow sip, and then frowned as though the taste offended him. "Why?"
"Because your personalities are so different," North replied, his voice rising with indignation. "P'Hill is a big-hearted person. You? You don't share an ounce of his kindness."
Johan tilted his head, his expression unreadable. "What are you playing at?"
North blinked, caught off guard. "What am I playing at?" he echoed, his eyebrows shooting up.
Johan didn't bother clarifying. Instead, he leaned back and said, "Last time, Hill called me to complain about this."
"About what?" North asked, confused.
"About Ter praising me in front of him. Hill got angry."
North stared at him, the pieces of the puzzle refusing to fit together. "Oh, really? So?"
"So, I feel the same way," Johan replied flatly, pushing his chair back and standing abruptly.
"Hey, where are you going?" North demanded, watching as Johan abandoned his half-finished coffee and strode toward the balcony.
Johan ignored him, pulling out his phone and dialing a number. North followed, curiosity overcoming his irritation. Johan's voice was low but unmistakably angry as he spoke into the phone.
"Hill, you bastard," Johan growled.
The voice on the other end was faint but clearly surprised. "Huh?"
"I want to kill someone!" Johan snapped, pacing the balcony like a caged animal.
"What? Why?" came the confused reply.
"Because of you, damn it!" Johan practically shouted, his frustration spilling over.
North stood frozen in the doorway, watching the exchange with a mix of confusion and fascination. Johan, it seemed, was a storm brewing just beneath the surface, and North wasn't sure if he wanted to weather it or walk away.