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“Eight fucking pumps of syrup,” Revenant was snarling. He slapped the syrup dispenser like it had personally offended him. “If I sliced him in half I bet he’d bleed sugar.”
Renee, who was busy brewing more coffee, ignored him completely. Revenant stomped over to grab a canister of whipped cream and made sure to put in too much so it would dribble down the sides of the cup, then yelled, “Wiff!”
“It’s Witt,” said the man waiting at the counter. “W-I-T-T, Witt.”
“Not what Gibralter wrote,” Revenant sneered, shoving the drink at him.
“Oh—ha, ha, okay.” The customer laughed nervously. “I see how it could be read as Wiff, uh, is Bloodhound here today?”
“No,” Revenant said, although he had no idea.
“They’re on break, Elliott,” Gibralter piped up helpfully from the register.
Elliott’s face fell. “Oh. Well, maybe I’ll need more coffee later! Thanks for the extra whip, buddy.” He clicked his tongue and finger-gunned at Revenant with the hand not holding his drink. Revenant seriously considered tearing his hand off.
Elliott must have picked up on that, because he laughed nervously again and scurried out the door, nearly bumping into Revenant’s least favorite customer.
“Hello, Elliott!” the customer chirped. “I will see you soon, since my shift starts in approximately seven minutes!” The big, stupid blue robot trotted up to the counter and scanned the menu, a thoughtful-looking emoji popping up on his screen.
“Hiya, Path,” said Gibralter. “What’ll it be?”
“As a worker in this fine establishment, what do you recommend?” Pathfinder asked. Revenant scoffed loudly.
Gibralter ignored him and said, “How about you try the hazelnut latte today? I roasted the beans myself.”
Pathfinder clapped his hands excitedly. “That sounds delicious, friend!” It made him look like an idiot and was not cute at all.
“Rev, one hazelnut latte.” Gibralter scribbled on a cup and tossed it to Revenant.
Revenant tore it in half. “Oops.” But Gibralter had already prepped another one, and he handed it to Revenant with a warning look.
“He can’t even drink it,” Revenant grumbled.
“That’s true, friend!” Pathfinder agreed cheerfully. “But I do have olfactory sensors so I can enjoy the scent!”
Revenant didn’t have any rebuttal for that, because, well, he had olfactory sensors too. He hated smelling the coffee every day because it reminded him that he could never have it again.
“Just make his order, Revenant,” said Gibralter.
Revenant made the drink as fast as possible, because he wanted Pathfinder gone as fast as possible. He stalked back to the counter and shouted, “Pattfinger!” even though Pathfinder was right there.
“Oh! I think you mean me, friend!” Pathfinder said excitedly. Revenant slammed the cup down on the counter, effectively obliterating the entire bottom half and spilling the hazelnut coffee everywhere.
Pathfinder’s hands, which had been eagerly grasped together in front of his chest, slowly fell to his sides. His head drooped, and a sad face appeared on his screen. Shit. Shit shit shit.
“Revenant—” Gibralter began, but Revenant was already remaking the drink in record time.
Revenant shoved the fresh coffee at Pathfinder, but not so violently as to spill it again. “I’m not apologizing, because it was an accident,” he snarled.
“It’s all right friend, accidents happen.” Pathfinder’s emoji was positively beaming as he accepted the drink. It absolutely did not make Revenant’s insides feel funny. “Have a great day!” Pathfinder skipped out of the shop and Revenant glared after him.
Gibralter was now rearranging the straws and utensils and humming to himself, and that just made Revenant more annoyed. He decided to go out back and punch the garbage dumpster.
He kicked the back door open and barely had time to register that Bloodhound was out there before the hunter had sprung to their feet and pulled a knife on him.
“…the fuck are you doing,” Revenant growled.
Bloodhound lowered the knife slowly. “My apologies,” they said. “You startled me.”
“No shit,” said Revenant. “Why are you taking your break by the dumpster?”
Bloodhound pointed up. Revenant looked, and saw that there were a bunch of crows perched on the coffee shop’s roof. “What, you collecting birds now?”
“I was merely feeding them,” Bloodhound replied. “I do not plan on taking them with me when the games open.”
“Eeuugh,” Revenant said, because he was sick of talking. He rounded on the dumpster and punched it with a very satisfying clang, leaving a sizeable dent. It matched the two he’d put there yesterday.
“Hm,” said Bloodhound.
“What,” Revenant snapped.
“The dumpster is technically company property,” they said. “Perhaps it would be better if you did not damage it beyond repair.”
Revenant clenched his fists. “I’ll damage you beyond repair.”
Bloodhound shrugged, unintimidated, which annoyed Revenant more. “I am not saying you should not take out your frustrations. Just that you might want to take them out elsewhere.”
“Where, exactly, are you suggesting?” Revenant said, thinking about murder.
“There is a perfectly good dumpster right over there,” Bloodhound said, pointing to the building next door.
The building next door was a rent-to-own place, which Revenant thought was very stupid because they charged asinine, exorbitant prices. He seemed to recall Octane complaining about getting a bicycle from there and ending up having to pay triple its market price. Fine, then. Revenant went to trash that dumpster while Bloodhound excused themself and slipped back into the coffee shop.
Across the street and three buildings down, Pathfinder pushed open the door to the Mozambique Bakery and practically floated in.
Ajay looked up from where she was helping a customer pick out donuts and said, “Hey, Path. You look pretty happy.”
“I just got some coffee!” Pathfinder said. “And Revenant made it for me!” He sighed and cradled the coffee cup in his hands.
“I don’t know what you see in that guy,” Elliott said, strolling out of the back with a fresh batch of muffins. “He’s just so, like…” Elliott waved a hand around. “Like, not… polite.”
“Rude,” Ajay supplied.
“Yeah, that.” Elliott began lining the muffins up neatly in the display case.
“But he’s so cool,” Pathfinder said, hearts dancing on his screen. “And handsome.” He trotted behind the counter and set his coffee cup down. “You two are welcome to have some of my drink, since I can’t ingest it!”
“I might take you up on that later,” Ajay said, and began boxing up her customer’s donuts.
“I’m good,” Elliott said. “I got a drink earlier. Revenant made that one, too, and he did give me extra whipped cream. I guess he’s not horrible.”
“Not horrible doesn’t equal boyfriend material, Path,” Ajay said before Pathfinder could reply.
Pathfinder fiddled with his hands. “I just want to get to know him better!”
“We’re just lookin’ out for you,” Ajay assured him. Her customer exited with their donuts, and another customer came in. Ajay glanced over and said, “Ayyy, Octavio!”
“Ayyy, Ajay!” the customer bounded over and held up both his hands. Ajay smacked them heartily. “You gotta call me Octane, though, see? I even put it on my name badge.” He tapped his nametag.
“Oh, you working over at Triple Take, too?” Ajay asked.
“Yeah!” Octane said. “Gibby’s real nice, but that robot tipo, whew! He’s got issues!”
“Oh, we know.” Ajay threw a glance at Pathfinder, who responded with a pouty emoji. She grabbed a six-donut box. “You here for the funky ones?”
“Hell yeah.” Octane bent down to examine the donuts in the case. “How do you know what they are?”
“Alexander always tells Natalie which ones he messes with,” Ajay snickered. “Can’t tell you what flavors he decided to put in there, though.”
Octane rubbed his hands together. “Excellent.”
“He gave me a mustard one yesterday,” Elliott warned.
“Nice!” said Octane. “I’m gonna make another video of me eating them. You know how many new subscribers I got after the last one?” He happily accepted the box of donuts from Ajay, bounced up and down the entire time he was paying, and ran out of the store.
“Maybe I should make a video blog!” Pathfinder said. “Do you think that would be a good way to find my creator, friends? We don’t know when the games will be up and running so I could do that in the meantime!”
“Mmm, it took awhile for Octavio to get all his followers,” Ajay said. “But he probably wouldn’t mind you guest-starring in one of his videos.”
Pathfinder clapped happily. “Really? I would like that!”
Ajay patted Pathfinder on the back. “We got you, man.”
Pathfinder beamed, and spent the next hour being extra cheerful with all the customers. However, when a certain customer walked in (Bloodhound), Elliott hurried to the counter and asked Pathfinder to fill the napkin dispensers. “I’ll take over, you deserve a break!” Elliott said.
“Oh, I don’t need a break, friend,” Pathfinder replied. “I am fine working my whole shift without a break! My stamina is much higher than most people!” He turned to Bloodhound, who was now standing silently on the other side of the counter. “How can we help you, friend?”
“My manager has requested that I get some baked goods for the staff,” Bloodhound said.
“I can help with that!” Elliott said before Pathfinder could reply. “I’m totally an expert on baked goods!”
Bloodhound stared quietly for a moment, then said, “Well, you do work at the bakery.”
Elliott leaned over the counter, brushing a hand back through his hair. “I sure do.” He batted his eyelashes at Bloodhound.
“You had better wash your hands before touching the bakery items,” Pathfinder advised.
“Path!” Elliott whined, but he did get up and run over to wash his hands. When he returned, Pathfinder was answering Bloodhound’s questions about the croissants. “Pathfinder, buddy,” he said, placing both hands on the robot’s arm. “I’ll take over from here.”
“But I have already started helping them,” Pathfinder protested. “It would be rude to stop now!”
“Ajay!” Elliott wailed.
Ajay poked her head out of the kitchen, saw who was at the croissant case, and laughed. “Path, come help me with these baguettes.” She beckoned the MRVN with a grin. Pathfinder put on a confused emoji, but hurried back to help her.
“Soooooo,” said Elliott, giving Bloodhound a sultry (he thought) smile. “Getting some croissants today? That’s cool. Croissants are cool.”
They tilted their head at him, then said, “Yes, I think I will take six croissants. And six scones. Do you recommend any scones in particular?”
Elliott tried to lean casually against the bakery case but slipped and nearly fell over. “Oh, yeah! Me, I like the, uh, blueberry ones. Just ‘cause, you know. They’re good.”
Bloodhound nodded slowly. “Then I will get six of those.”
“Good choice, good choice.” Elliott grabbed a bakery box from the bottom of the pile and tried to pull it out really fast without moving any of the ones on top, because that would look really cool. It didn’t work, though, and he found himself frantically trying to catch an entire landslide of boxes and mostly failing. “I meant to do that,” he said after saving only a quarter of the pile from the dirty, germy floor (Alexander was going to kill him). “Just weeding out the bad boxes, that’s all.”
Bloodhound chuckled quietly. “You certainly did.”
Elliott blushed a flaming red and grabbed the tongs to box up Bloodhound’s order. He arranged the croissants and scones as gorgeously as he could and closed the box with a flourish. “I’ll ring you up right over here,” he said in as smooth a voice as he could, gesturing casually to the register.
“I figured,” said Bloodhound. “It appears to be the only register.”
“Ha, ha!” Elliott laughed. “Yeah, it sure is! Your total is forty credits and your phone number?”
Bloodhound swiped a card across the payment screen. “No, thank you,” they said politely. “I would prefer not to get solicitation calls.”
“The only one who’d be soliciting you is me,” Elliott said, waggling his eyebrows. “And I’m the merchandise! No, wait, that sounds really wrong. Uhhhh…”
Bloodhound paused. “It is not the bakery asking for my phone number?”
“Uh, no. That was—that was me.”
“I see. Well, in that case.” Bloodhound grabbed a pen, and Elliott’s wrist, and quickly scribbled something on his hand.
Elliott stood there dumbfounded, staring at his hand. Bloodhound had written a phone number. On his hand. And “call me” and a little doodle of a bird. It was so cute, oh my god? He looked up and Bloodhound was standing there expectantly, holding the bakery box. What were they waiting for? “Should I—call you right now?” Elliott wondered.
“…no,” Bloodhound replied. “I must go back to work. I will be off this evening, however.” They continued to stand at the counter. After another minute of awkward silence, they said, “May I have the receipt? My manager needs it.”
“Oh! Yeah!” Elliott grabbed the receipt and pressed it into Bloodhound’s gloved hand. “I’ll… call you… tonight?”
“I look forward to it,” They said, and left the bakery as quietly as they’d come in.
“Dude,” said Ajay from behind him. “I’d say smooth, except that was anything but.”
“Oh ho ho!” said Elliott triumphantly. “But I got their number, didn’t I? Quick, where’s some paper? I need to write this down ASAP!”
Ajay watched him run around in circles before finally tearing off a piece of contaminated bakery box from the floor to write it on. It was only after he’d done so that she pointed out the notepad sitting right beside the register.
“You know what, that’s fine,” Elliott said, pocketing his torn piece of cardboard. “Now I need you to help me take pictures of my hand so I can always treasure this bird drawing.”
“So you didn’t even need to write the number down.” Ajay rolled her eyes so hard she bobbed her head.
“Oh, yeah?” Just to spite her, Elliot grabbed the notepad and wrote the phone number down there too.
Pathfinder came out of the kitchen with an armful of baguettes. “I am sorry, Elliott. Ajay explained to me that you wanted to put the moves on Bloodhound. You should have just said so!”
“It doesn’t work if you tell someone you’re doing it,” Elliott protested.
“I’m pretty sure they knew exactly what you were doing from the start,” Ajay said.
Pathfinder made a little gasping noise. “Do you think that would work with Revenant?”
“You’ll never know until you try!” Elliott said, posing dramatically while Ajay snapped pictures of his hand. “The early bird throws the first stone. Or something.”
“Wonderful!” said Pathfinder. “I will try that when I get my coffee tomorrow!”
“What are you trying tomorrow?” asked Natalie, who’d just walked in the door.
“Natalie!” Elliott exclaimed. “Since you’re here, you won’t mind if I just leave now, right? I need to go get ready for my big date.” He blew on his knuckles.
“You don’t have a date,” Ajay said, shaking her head at Natalie.
“It’s the pre—prel—pred—” Elliott frowned and said very slowly, “Pre-lude. Because I’m definitely going to get a date.”
“Ah, good luck, then,” Natalie said cheerfully. Elliott saluted her and ran into the back to get his stuff from his locker. Natalie turned to Pathfinder and asked, “Now what did you say about tomorrow?”
Ajay tried to sling an arm around Pathfinder’s shoulders, but she was too short. “He’s going to put the moves on Revenant.”
“Ohh, merveilleuse!” Natalie clapped her hands. “We can help you with that!”
Pathfinder’s screen lit up with a happy, bouncing emoji. “Thank you! You are the best friends ever!”
Revenant was in a slightly less pissy mood the next morning, partly because he’d turned the rental shop’s dumpster into a pretzel and partly because Gibralter wasn’t working (Gibralter was always so helpful and it was fucking annoying).
However, his mood quickly turned sour when he punched in and found Octane running back and forth between the walk-in fridge and the kitchen, chugging coffee as he went. “Slow down, asshole,” Revenant growled. “And put down that coffee, you obviously don’t need any.”
Octane spun to a stop and downed the rest of the cup. “It’s only my fourth!” he said, running in place. “Usually by now I’ve had six!”
Revenant just grunted and shoved past him. Bloodhound was busy mixing a line of frozen drinks, and Anita was filling out the weekly schedule. Revenant hoped all his shifts were with Bloodhound and Renee. At least those two were fairly quiet and kept to themselves.
Which is why he was surprised when Bloodhound turned and, instead of the usual two finger salute, greeted him with a cheerful “Good morning, Revenant! The gods have truly blessed us on this day.”
“Nnngh,” said Revenant, and Bloodhound continued prepping the drinks, humming? Where they fucking humming to themself? Great, now he had to put up with another happy moron. He stomped over to Anita and peered over her shoulder at the schedule board. What the fuck! “Why am I scheduled alongside Octane and Gibralter every fucking day?” he demanded.
“Because your customer service is shit,” Anita replied evenly. “I need those two to balance it out.”
“Goddamn it!” Well, since Bloodhound and Octane were working in the prep area, he was going to go man the damn cash register. He’d show her shitty service, all right. Revenant stomped up front and leveled the morning line of customers with a glare.
He spent the next hour taking orders and deliberately misspelling every single name. Once the rush had died down, Anita wandered up and handed him an empty cup. It was a drink order he’d taken twenty minutes ago and the stupid customer hadn’t understood half the menu, so Revenant had written “dumbfuck” on the cup. “Don’t do this,” Anita said. “Or I’ll fire your ass.”
Revenant crushed the cup in his hand and threw it in the garbage. “Yeah, fine.” He looked back to the front door just in time to see the absolute bane of his existence walk in. That horrible, cheerful, not-attractive-in-any-way MRVN unit.
“The fuck you want today?” Revenant asked, and Anita threw a milk carton at the back of his head.
“H-hello, friend,” Pathfinder said. What the hell was wrong with him? His emoji was downright nervous. “I would like a cup of something tall, dark, and strong.”
Revenant stared at him until it became clear the robot wasn’t going to elaborate. “Order from the menu,” he snarled.
Pathfinder laughed uneasily and his emoji turned shy and bashful. “Well, friend, what I’d like isn’t on the menu!”
“We don’t do special orders,” Revenant said flatly.
“Do you—do you do takeout?” Pathfinder ventured. This idiot! What was that supposed to mean? It was a goddamn coffee shop, most of the orders were takeout.
“If you order your damn drink, you can take it anywhere you like,” Revenant growled, his patience long gone. “Now tell me what you want or get the fuck out.”
Pathfinder wrung his hands and kept looking between Revenant and the floor. “I—I—I’d like to take you out, friend.”
Revenant’s brain functions abruptly stopped working. Who the what now? This robot—Pathfinder—was asking him—
“He wants to go on a date with you!” Octane hollered from the prep area.
Revenant spun around and screamed, “I know that!” Bloodhound, Anita, and Octane had all stopped their work to stare. “Stop fucking gawking!”
“Is… is your answer negative?” Pathfinder asked quietly. Revenant immediately turned back to him, and this damn robot, he was staring at the floor again and his emoji was bright red with embarrassment.
“No!” Revenant yelled, and Pathfinder’s head jerked up. “It’s not negative, you dumb—dumb—MRVN. It’s a yes.”
Pathfinder’s hands flew up to his face, his emoji turning giddy. UGH, why was he so adorable! “Really?”
“Sure, yeah,” Revenant grumbled. “I’ll go out with you.” He wanted to call Pathfinder something stupid, but for some reason all that was running through his head was terms of endearment. So instead he grabbed a coffee cup, scribbled his phone number on it, and shoved it into Pathfinder’s hands. “I’m off work at three,” he said menacingly. “Meet me at the bus stop on the corner.”
Pathfinder threw him a thumbs-up. “I will see you then, friend!” He ran away excitedly.
“Not bad,” Octane said. “You could have maybe not made it sound like you were gonna kill him at the bus stop though.”
“I’ll kill you,” Revenant snarled.
“I told you the gods had blessed us today,” Bloodhound said, and gave him a thumbs-up of their own.
“So yeah,” Elliott was saying to Alexander and Natalie. “I’ve got a date tonight. No big deal.” He rubbed his knuckles on the front of his shirt, smirking. “I go on dates all the time. Like, at least once in the past two months, anyway.”
“Uh-huh,” said Alexander, piping something that looked like vegemite on top of some cupcakes. “I don’t care.”
The bakery’s front door slammed open and Pathfinder sprinted in. “Friends!” he cried. “Friends, I have a date today!”
“Way to go, Pathfinder!” Natalie squealed, and held up her hands for a double-high-five. Pathfinder enthusiastically obliged, accidentally knocking her backwards a few steps. “Where are you going?”
“I don’t know!” Pathfinder said happily. “I am meeting him at the bus stop later. Oh, I’m so excited! This is very exciting.”
“It is,” Elliott agreed. “I have a date, too. We’re date buddies!”
“Date buddies!” Pathfinder exclaimed, wiggling gleefully. He and Elliott exchanged their own double-high-five.
Revenant did his utmost best to ignore his co-workers for the rest of his shift and most certainly did not spend it daydreaming about spending time with Pathfinder later.