Before I could even contemplate it, Irene handed me my smock and a Parisian styled beret while exclaiming, “Welcome to The Bean!”

The clinks of coffee mugs hitting the wooden tables, the laughs and cries from customers all in a different chapter of their lives, and the bitter smell of brewing espresso felt like one of those 4D movies in an amusement park. It felt unreal, suspenseful, but at the same time pretty amazing.

Irene dedicated some time to teach me five of their most popular (and hardest) drinks. After three customer arguments and complaints letter, I finally mastered her weird but very popular turmeric latte. The taste was probably not the only reason why everyone ordered, because Irene’s killer looks definitely played a part.

A guy with a black mask and cap (which I’m surprised she didn’t find alarming) came twice to order her latte, once in the morning and evening to attempt small talk with her.

“I love your name by the way, my aunt’s name is actually Irene,” the mystery guy said before regretting what he said. The little peek of his cheeks showing were bright red.

This girl might be a customer heartthrob, but she doesn’t let anyone mess with her.

“Here is your change,” she says right after handing it to him. “Next customer!”

After mystery boy got his drink and gloomingly sat by the window, I mouthed to her, “aw poor guy,” but she just rolled her eyes. The most attention I got from a customer was them yelling why I couldn’t accept cash at the credit card register.

The bell on the door chimed, and almost automatically I smiled, “Welcome to The Bean!” My heart jittered a little just looking at who came through the door. Over-dramatically ruffling his newly dyed jet black hair, Joshua strutted in his perfectly ironed white button down, navy khaki pants, and shiny back oxfords toward us.

Irene gave him a whistle.“It looks like someone has a date,” she teased.

“What I can’t get dressed up for work? I take my job very seriously,” he said trying to defend himself.

I could tell behind that smile though that something is bothering him.

He walked behind the counter to grab his apron underneath. “Well, my mom set me up on a blind date with a girl that would be ‘perfect for me’ but I’m not at a perfect time in my life for that. Thus Ms. Roseanne, I am taking the rest of your shift as an excuse not to go.”

A part of me felt relieved since my legs were so tired standing for all these hours, but the other part wanted to just stay for the sake of keeping him company.

“Sadly I am not in a perfect time in my life either where I can be happy going home and leaving work early to rest. I am a writer and life is my muse.” I said trying to mimic his sarcasm.

We made eye contact and laughed, looking to the ground in embarrassment at how dumb we must sound to the customers.

“As cafe manager, I would like to let you two know that only two employees are needed to run the shop, thus, I think I should let the new employee experience responsibility,” Irene said immediately removing her apron. She reached into her pocket and threw Joshua her keys.“Remember to lock up by 10 and make sure all the old pastries are thrown out so we can restock tomorrow.” And like that, Irene left.

Being that it was a Tuesday night, the cafe only had one customer: an older man who just finished his chamomile tea and was getting ready to leave. Then, there was just us, surrounded by espresso machines and air-hardened pastries who were going to meet their doom at 10.

With no customers to serve, we decided to start prepping to close. Joshua started to teach me how to clean the machines and prep the kitchen for the next day, but with every instruction, his eyes seemed distant in his thoughts. I tried my best to give him the space he probably needed, telling him that Irene taught me everything so he doesn’t need to worry. But being the gentleman that he is and probably noticing at how much I was struggling, he still tried to help.

So we mopped, rearranged, emptied, and poured all sorts of things so that the shop looked practically squeaky clean. While he was finishing up the kitchen, I went behind the table and looked for the iPod to play the one song that I know would totally make him forget whatever was on his mind.

In highschool, almost everyone knew about “Joshua Levine”’s obsession with Maroon Five. He ALWAYS performed and learned their songs on his guitar in music class. The fact that we went to a performing arts highschool also meant that he did this all day, every day. So I hit the play button, grabbed a spoon, and barged into the kitchen.

“Sunday morning rain is falling!” I screamed into my spoon microphone. “C’mon Josh!” I said putting the spoon into his hand. Immediately I saw his face come back to life.

“Clouds are shrouding us in moments unforgettable. You twist to fit the mold that I am in!” he said pointing in my direction. I pretended to swoon and put my hand dramatically on my heart. He hands me back the spoon to sing the next verse.

“But things just get so crazy, living life gets hard to do,” I sing so loudly because, it really is. Joshua attempts to harmonize with me as if we were in music class again, and somehow or another we stopped caring and started screaming the lyrics from our heart. We jump all around, singing into the mop handles and air guitaring the chords. In a city that only treated me like a lost cause, this moment made me feel like my happiness mattered.

“Is it so hard to get a cup of coffee in New York City!” a voice beyond the kitchen doors yelled.

Oh. No.

Joshua and I looked at each other horrified. Great way to end my first and last day I guess.

I ran past the doors and tried to greet the older man at the counter in the most gentle way possible. “I’m so sorry sir we were starting to close earlier and-”

“Shut up! Just give me my darn cup of coffee before you see me really get angry.” the customer said giving me a threading glare.

Joshua quickly got in front of me, “Sorry for the inconvenience sir, your coffee is on the house.” he said handing him a to-go cup instead of a mug. “But if threaten my co-worker again I will have to ask you to leave.”

The customer rolled his eyes and left the cafe with his cup. I let out the breath I was holding in all this time, fiddling with my bracelet until he left far enough that I could lock the door.

“New York really is '' The Big Apple”, one filled with worms who think that they own it.'' He said with disgust. “For now on, I want to tell Irene that three people should do night shifts because these are becoming all too common.” He clenched his fist in frustration but instead of doing something he just looked back and laughed it off. ”I don’t want your first day to end up on a bad note. Let's lock up and go wherever you want to, my treat Rosie.” He said giving me a wink while holding up his wallet.

I grabbed the empty roll from a paper towel and playingly whacked him. “Three things: One, stop calling me Rosie. Two, yes I’d love to. Three, stop acting so cheesy before you make a girl fall for you.”

He snatched the roll from my hand so I could stop. “Did my cheesiness work on you then?” I froze for a second; did he take my joke seriously.

“Well I mean your not completely wrong since your the first guy I’ve liked and that’s not usually something to get over easily,” is what I wanted to say. But having only one brain cell left after this long day, I said, “What are you talking about I’m just joking. I guess you need to practice on your charms.”

“Alright then, I know the perfect place to practice my skills. C’mon let’s go.”