Our fallen souls [EN] (High Enough) : VOLUME 1

19 - Joséphine

I'm making hot chocolate when Cassie comes into the kitchen. She's working at the same time as me, and I begged her to come back, so I wouldn't be alone. She kindly agreed, also needing money.

"Hi Jo," she said in a soft voice, allowing herself a kiss on my cheek, leaving a trace of her delicate perfume. "Did everything go well last night? Who was that guy?"

I swallow, feeling a knot form in my throat. "Yes, everything went fine," I answered in a slightly strained voice. "He was my ex."

"Are you all right?" she asked, her eyes fixed on me with concern. "You never told me."

"It's all right," I try to reassure her, though my own doubts torment me.

She gently lifts my chin and points to something on my neck. "Indeed, it looks fine!"

I panic. I hurriedly grab my phone and look at my reflection. A faint red mark adorns my neck.

"It was... just something like that," I stammer.

"Just something like that?" she repeated doubtfully. She leaned back on the counter, squinting slightly.

"What was it like to fuck with Blake Robertson, then?"

"We didn't...fuck."

She rolls her eyes and pats me lightly with a tea towel.

"That's it, yes. The way you look at each other all the time. I've never seen people secretly admire each other like that. Well... secretly is a big word."

I sigh and bite my lips.

At this point...

"Your boyfriend cut us off by walking into my house without knocking."

Cassie abruptly interrupts what she was doing, drawing my attention.

"Clyde? He didn't say anything to me when he got home," she worries.

I can't help but sigh slightly.

"For Blake, it didn't mean anything anyway," I answer a little wearily.

"But what about you?"

I take a moment to think, staring mechanically at an empty cup in front of me. "I don't know."

Quickly returning to my responsibilities, I get back to work with a vengeance. Directing my steps towards the room, I take customers' orders, deftly juggling coffees, cappuccinos, croissants and many other delicacies. Every gesture is precise, every interaction professional.

Despite the hectic pace, I love my job. It allows me to get away from it all, to put aside the worries of everyday life and think about something else for a few hours. Each cup I prepare becomes a kind of escape, a moment when I can lose myself in the mechanical movements of routine. Placing the orders carefully on the counter, while picking up the one Cassie has prepared, I prepare to return to the room to serve the last customers and take the last order of the day. Routine takes over, and I pay no attention to who's about to order. Usually, I don't have time to dwell on individuals, unless they take forever to make up their mind. But today, while my mind is still full of questions about Blake, I have a feeling this day might be a little more complicated than usual.

"Good evening, what can I get you?" I asked mechanically, my gaze plunging into the void.

A familiar voice suddenly drew me out of my thoughts. "Do you still serve milkshakes?"

I look up to see Joey standing in front of me. My heart misses a beat, surprised to see him here. My eyes stare into his, searching for answers to my questions.