A/N: Italicized text within quotation marks means whoever is speaking is talking in Romanian.
Y/N's POV:
Sleep. Eat. Brew Coffee. Repeat.
That was all my life was. Sometimes I would deviate from this schedule, going on dates, seeing a new movie, making or spending time with friends, but normally my day had the same four steps. Little did I know this was all about to change.
Let me be clear, I didn't mind the simplicity. It's a small town that I live in, located in Zamora district of Bușteni, Romania. The only reason for new people to come by is the occasional visit to Cantacuzino Castle. I like that it's quiet here.
It's a Sunday morning, I'm enjoying the gentle breeze as I'm walking to work. The vibrant Autumn leaves swaying with the wind. Eight O'clock and the town is just beginning to wake up.
The bell attached to the door rings loudly when I enter the workplace. Immediately the warm slightly scents of coffee, cinnamon, and baked goods waft through the brisk autumn air.
The Café is bustling with activity when I get there. It's the morning, and civilians want their coffee.
"Morning, L/N," my boss greets me, "put on an apron and get to work."
I swiftly don the apron and take my colleague John's spot at the counter.
People swarm to the register, ordering everything from drip coffee to cortados, lattes, and iced dirty chais.
Every shift here is pretty similar. Romanian's not my first language, but I'd say I feel confident in my ability to communicate with it.
I must have served a hundred customers before anything even slightly noteworthy starts happening.
The bell softly jingles and someone I've never seen before comes through the door. She's shorter than the average customer. I can't get a good look at her face before yet another customer asking for a drip coffee or something.
"L/N, this one's for you," my coworker gestures to the girl I saw come in earlier, "good thing ya know English."
Well, I can't argue with that. I wave the girl over to me
"Hey, welcome to the Café, my name's Y/N. What can I get for ya today?" it's not that I catch my first good glimpse at the girl. She has long black hair, clearly darkened by dye, with wispy bangs lightly caressing her freckled face.
"Hi, I'm Jenna, nice to meet you," she replies with a distinctly American accent, "what do you recommend?"
I stop to think, cracking a smile.
"Well, I'd have to say. I think an Americano would go great with your... American-ness," I laugh.
She giggles, "what gave it away? The not knowing Romanian, or the accent."
"Does it really matter?" I chuckle, "anyhow, what do you usually order at a coffee shop?"
"I'll just take a cold brew, no milk or sugar."
"One cold brew coming right up," I smile, going over to the ice machine, filling the cup with ice and then cold brew.
"Thank you so much," she smiles sweetly.
"I'm here every morning if you ever need someone to take your order," I reply.
"I might just take you up on that," she smirks, walking off with her cold brew after paying.
This was my most interesting shift so far this past week.
Little did I know, this would not be the last interesting shift I'd end up having.
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Jenna Ortega - an Americano, please
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