Tristan stood outside of Kofienrest Cafe, staring at the cafe name and logo above the cafe doors.

He clutched the strap of his side bag, heart tight from nervousness and excitement at the same time.

Tristan took a deep breath and channeled his inner courage before he walked towards the entrance, then pushed the right door open.

Time seemed to slow down as the sound of a bell chime struck his ears, followed by a whiff of coffee aroma. His eyes gazed at the customers around, sipping their coffee in peace. Then he heard soft music playing in the background.

The atmosphere felt so relaxing.

Pleasant

Cozy.

It calmed his nerves down.

Feeling refreshed, Tristan approached the baristas at the side of the counter to ask where the office was, but he noticed they were busy attending customers and making espresso drinks, so he took the opportunity to observe how they work.

He recognized one of them, a tall, dark-skinned, spiky-haired barista, who had the same cheerful expression as when he previously visited the cafe many months ago. The barista moved with such grace, working with multiple batches of espresso drinks elegantly, like he could work seamlessly with his eyes closed. While the other barista moved less elegant and energetic, but was quite swift with his work.

Tristan felt entranced watching the spiky-haired barista. He didn’t know something as simple as making espresso coffee could look beautiful.

He didn’t realize how long he watched them until the spiky-haired barista noticed him. One sharp glance was enough to make Tristan nervous again. The barista wiped his hands and approached him with a cheerful look. “Hello! How many I help you?”.

Tristan suddenly felt a bit intimidated by the bright aura the barista shined with his smile alone. “I-I’m here for my interview?” he squeaked, fidgeting with his fingers.

He didn’t know a smile could get bigger until he saw the barista’s expression brighten up. “Ah yes! The interview!” He snapped his fingers. “The office is right there! Follow me!”

The barista exited the counter and signaled his hand to Tristan to follow him as they entered an entryway. His eyes immediately darted to a white door with a big ‘Office’ sign written on it.

“So, how long have you been a barista?”

Tristan shook his head. “Um, first time.”

The barista turned his head around gave him an assuring smile. “Don’t worry! Nothing wrong with being a first timer! Just answer my Ma’s questions properly and you might get hired!” he chuckled, then he knocked on the door thrice. “Ma! The applicant is here!”.

He opened the door and gestured to Tristan to enter. “Good luck! You can do it!” he whispered loudly and gave Tristan two thumbs up before he walked away.

Tristan watched him walk away, smiling in awe.

He entered the office. It was a tiny room with white walls, ceiling, and even the tiles. Dirty white filing cabinets and fake plants on the two opposite sides of the wall, a shiny brown office table in the far middle-corner with a middle-aged woman, who Tristan presumed was Mrs. Garcia, sitting behind.

“Tristan Sarmiento, yes? Please take a seat.” She gestured to a chair in front of the table.

Tristan closed the door behind him, gently walked towards the seat, then sat down with a polite nod. He reached inside his bag, pulled out a folder that contained his resume, then handed it over to Mrs. Garcia. She adjusted her glasses and leaned her head as she took her time to read the contents of his resume. As time passed, he became more nervous and began fidgeting his fingers together, wondering if reading resumes takes long.

After a minute, she placed the resume on her desk, straightened her posture, and glanced up to face Tristan eye to eye. “Alright dear, let’s start the interview. Are you ready?”

Tristan gulped as he nod his head. He tried his best to keep his composure, hands clasped together, but the sweat forming in his palms says otherwise.

“Why are you interested in working for us?”

Tristan felt a bit stunned by her first question, not expecting a sudden heavy question. He began to brainstorm for an excellent answer, but his nervousness spiked when his eyes paid attention to Mrs. Garcia’s expression. Despite her gentle smile, she had a stern look as well.

Tristan shifted in his chair around and straighten his posture. “I had a pleasant experience with Kofienrest Cafe, and when I saw the hiring poster at Light Mall, my classmate convinced me to apply. I looked up everything about being a barista, and it sounded fun, so I gave it a shot.”

Mrs. Garcia simply hummed and nodded before she continued. “In your own words, how do you become a good barista?”

Tristan’s eyes gazed down and began fidgeting with his fingers on his legs. He tried to recall all the articles he read a few days ago as reference to piece together his next answer. “A good barista communicates kind and proper to make customers feel welcome. The knowledge and skills of making perfect espresso drinks. Knowing everything about operating a cafe. And keeping the workplace clean.”

“Alright.” Mrs. Garcia hummed and nodded again. “You are currently serving an irate customer. How will you handle the situation?”.

Tristan collected his thoughts as he pondered for an answer. “Keep the interaction calm, quick, and simple. Don’t provoke, don’t show irritation, and be empathetic to make them feel welcome inside the cafe to prevent escalating their irate temper.”

Mrs. Garcia let out a soft, satisfied hum. She glanced at his resume again before she continued. “A curious customer hasn’t tried any espresso drinks before. They are not sure what to order. How will you help them?”

Tristan stiffened as he sensed her stern stare sharpened. He reflexively gulped as he tried not to get visibly bothered by it.

He fidgeted with his fingers as he pondered for the perfect answer. When all of a sudden, he remembered the tips he read from the articles.

I know my research would come in handy!  He mentally pumped his fist as he felt more confident about answering the question.

“I will ask what is their flavor preference, Bitter? Sweet? Milky? Chocolate-y?” he gestured his arms as he’s explaining. “Then, based on their answer, I will narrow down the choices to a few, and recommend trying the selections to figure out which drink they prefer the most.” He ended his speech with a bright smile, satisfied, giving his best answer yet.

Mrs. Garcia hummed and nod her head, then glanced down at his resume. The sudden silence dropped his confidence.

Tristan kept his composure, trying to keep a calm and collected appearance. But internally, he was freaking out. Negative thoughts ran through his mind, already fearing the worst.

After a minute of painful silence, Mrs. Garcia glanced back at Tristan and let out another soft, satisfied smile. “Congratulations, Tristan, you passed your interview.”

Tristan’s jaw dropped.

“I will call next week to inform you whether you‘re selected for the position.” She continued.

His mind trying to process what Mrs. Garcia had said, he didn't even have the energy to hide his surprised emotion. And once the shock wore off, Tristan stood up, joy filled his face. “T-Thank you so much!”

His cheer made Mrs. Garcia chuckle. “I like your energy, dear.”

He offered his hand for a handshake, which Mrs. Garcia accepted.

Tristan nod his head before leaving the office. Once he heard the audible click of the closed door, he let out a fist pump from joy.

He was on his way to the cafe doors, practically skipping, when the spiky-haired barista noticed his delighted expression at the corner of his eye that made him smile wide. “See! I told you! You can do it!” he clapped his hands loud and chuckled. “Good luck if you’re going to get selected by my Ma!” he gave Tristan a cheerful wave before turning his attention back to making espressos.

Tristan left the cafe, still on cloud nine. But before leaving, he turned around and looked at the spiky-haired barista. Seeing his cheerful attitude and as his encouragement made him happier.

Tristan plopped on the bed on his back, staring at his ceiling.

He daydreamed about working inside the cafe, from talking to customers and moving around to various machines, letting his imagination take him to the land of wonders.

Then he thought of an idea.

Tristan got up, bounced on his chair, then opened his computer. He opened Kofienrest Cafe’s Facebook page and looked at their image gallery, finding a particular image he hoped they had.

He opened his drawer of school supplies, grabbed some index cards and a pen, then cracked his knuckles as he began to look and watch video tutorials on how to make every drink that the cafe offered, ranging from Espressos, Caffe, and Frappes.

Tristan meticulously wrote the instructions on the index cards of each drink. And after an hour, he let out a huff of satisfaction as he finished writing all of them, his right hand slightly aching, but it felt worth the pain.

Afterwards, Tristan began to read and memorize the instructions repeatedly. He was so dedicated to his studying that he didn’t realize how much time had passed until his stomach growled.

He glanced at the time on the computer, and his eyes bulged out. “Oh shoot! I forgot to cook rice!”

Ever since the interview, Tristan mentally crossed the days passed in his calendar. Waiting for that magical call on his phone.

But each day that passed, the small doubt in his mind inflated. He tried to distract his thoughts by studying more about work responsibilities in the cafe and memorized all recipe instructions to the point he could recite most of them.

He eventually got bored and played video games to pass the time instead.

And after a whole seven days had passed. Mrs. Garcia hadn’t called him yet. The fear of not getting selected started to weight him out.

He couldn’t focus on playing video games when his mind couldn’t stop thinking about the job. His eyes always glancing at his phone, hanging on that tiny sliver of hope that it will ring right now.

But no matter how hard he prayed and stared at his phone, it just wouldn’t ring.

Tristan let out a dejected sigh. He paused the game, grabbed his index cards, and flipped through them each with a bittersweet smile.

Tristan felt dull.

Out of nowhere, Tristan flinched as a sudden loud noise blared around his room. His mind slowly realized that it was his ringtone.

He tensed from nervousness and unconsciously held his breath as he reached for his phone to see who was calling.

It was Mrs. Garcia.

His nervousness spiked.

With a shaky hand, Tristan accepted the call. “Hello Tristan, how are you?” Mrs. Garcia greeted with that familiar sweet tone, but it didn’t help Tristan’s nerves a bit.

“I-I’m good, Ma’am!”

A million thoughts ran through his mind, anxious about what Mrs. Garcia will say. Every second that passed made his nervousness more out of control.

“That’s great, because I’m happy to inform you that you got the barista position!”

…

Tristan was stunned. His mind tried to process what he just heard.

“You will start on Monday at five-thirty in the morning at our Eton Centris branch. You will be on a one week probation. My son will show and train you around the cafe, and if he vouched for your performance, I will transfer you to our new branch in Light Mall.”

Tristan’s eyes widened, shocked by the news.

“I’ve never transferred first timers on new branches before, but I considered your home’s proximity to Light Mall, so you don’t have to commute far away. For the meantime, wear white shirts and black pants until we get you a proper uniform. Welcome to Kofienrest Cafe Tristan.”

“I- Thank you so much Ma’am! I will do my best!”

Mrs. Garcia chuckled. “I’m glad to hear that. Do you have questions?”

Tristan shook his head. “N-no, Ma’am! Thank you for the opportunity!”

“Alright, good luck Tristan.” She said before ending the call.

Tristan stood in silence, his mind still couldn’t fully comprehend what had just happened.

And after a minute, the shock wore off, slowly changed to euphoria. “Yes! Yes! Yes!  I got the job!” Tristan pumped and shook his fist in glee. He felt like the happiest man on earth.

He glanced at his calendar.

Today was Friday.

Tristan bounced back to his chair, then grabbed his index cards to study again, beaming with glee.