Scar // The Boyz

Chapter 1 - Mixing

2.1k words

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own·er
/ˈōnər/
noun: owner; plural noun: owners

a person who owns something.
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{Yoon Jihye}

The smell of coffee and sugar filled the air. I could smell the caramel and espresso tinted oxygen making its way around the cafe, overwhelming my and surely the customers' senses. Sounds of the clinking coffee makers and whirring foam machines echoed behind the counter while I made a cappuccino. Light music played through the busted ceiling speakers. My coworkers were humming along like always, showing off their singing skills to the customers. A humid, rainy breeze wafted through the door as more customers were drawn in to purchase a drink. It was weirdly busy today for Spring.

I poured the hot, brown liquid in a white porcelain mug. I gently tipped the milk foam over the drink, steam flowing out and warming my shaky hands. Finally, I sprinkled cinnamon on top - per request of the customer - and handed it to Chanhee, who happily brought it over to a booth on the other side of the cafe.

I wiped my hands on my apron and headed back to the register to assist Sunwoo, who was swamped by the customers entering for the lunch rush. He looked panicked all by himself, struggling to catch the details of our customers' very specific drink requests.

"I can help the next customer," I shouted to the line of people, giving Sunwoo a reassuring nod.

We went on for the whole day making drinks, not getting a chance to take a break. The lunch rush never stopped and people continued to pile in until closing time. Once the last customer left a few minutes after 11pm, I watched Eric rush over to lock the door before more people could try to enter. He ripped off his apron and threw it on a chair, sitting down heavily and somehow immediately falling asleep.

"You guys wanna hang at my place after we clean up?" I asked the guys.

"Only if you give us food. I'm starving," Kevin yawned as he wiped a table at the back.

"Ok sure," I agreed and started stacking the metal chairs at the patio.

After we finally got the cafe clean and ready for the next day of chaos, I guided my friends to the second floor, where my apartment was waiting for us.

My parents owned this building and started up this cafe when I wasn't even born yet. For over twenty years, everyone in our small city gathered here and treasured the stuff my parents served. I grew up in this building, occasionally helping out in the cafe as I got older. I started off just cleaning the windows - spraying the glass and watching the bubbles fall to the ground in fun patterns. Then I started helping with the register, which was hard at first because of my dyslexia, but I managed to figure it out. As time went on, my whole life was about working at the cafe. I didn't know any other lifestyle.

Once I got into college a year and a bit ago, my parents decided to give me the apartment to myself and let me run the cafe on my own. They retired and found a small house in the suburbs, leaving me to be independent here in the small city. Of course I wasn't all alone - we hired many part timers each year since the cafe got more popular and busy overtime. Most of them stayed and still worked with me, and we got really close throughout the years. Those who stuck with me all became like my siblings.

I was living the life that any college student would want - living by myself without having to pay rent, working with my friends at a cafe that I owned, going to school with a full scholarship. You would think that my life was perfect.