Chapter Text
Caitlyn Kiramman was a morning person—note the past tense. She once enjoyed the crisp morning air, the quiet hum of the city waking up, and the taste of freshly brewed coffee. But that was all before becoming a criminology student. Now? Mornings were a cruel joke, an endless cycle of sleepless nights, studying, and the desperate need for caffeine.
Unfortunately, her usual cafés were either too busy or too pretentious. That’s when her best friend—and occasional headache—Jayce Talis, after weeks of going on and on about a certain coffee shop, practically dragged her with eagerness to what he called “the best hidden gem in Piltover.”
“The Last Drop?” Caitlyn read aloud as they stopped outside. “Jayce, this doesn’t look—”
“Trust me,” he interrupted, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “This place? Life-changing.” She sighed, already questioning this. “Fine. But why are you so obsessed with this place?”
“Oh uhhh, you know... good coffee, the usual totally normal reasons to like a coffee shop,” Jayce mumbled, his eyes darting dismissively as he pushed open the door.
They both entered, and Caitlyn almost immediately regretted it.
The place was... chaotic, in its own way. The espresso machine sputtered and hissed as it struggled to produce even a faint whiff of coffee. A stern raised voice broke through the noise. “It was supposed to have FOAM!”
Caitlyn’s eyes darted to the source of the voice: the owner of the stern tone, a tall woman with broad shoulders and a no-nonsense presence. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, and the muscle in her jaw flexed as she glared at the coffee in front of her. Her imposing stature made it clear she wasn’t someone who tolerated mistakes, especially when it came to her coffee. “That’s not what I ordered,” She growled, her voice a low rumble.
The barista - Vi, according to her name tag - had rolled-up sleeves, exposing strong arms dusted with freckles and tattoos, and her pink hair was a disheveled mess that somehow made her look effortlessly cool, was casually leaning against the counter and wiping a cup, didn’t even look up. “Yeah, it is. You asked for black coffee. That’s what I gave you.”
Her eyes narrowed, the tension in her posture evident. “I asked for a cappuccino, you know—the foamy drink. It’s supposed to have foam.” She emphasised the last part, her annoyance slipping through despite her best efforts to keep it cool. Vi shrugged, completely unfazed. “Listen Sevika, Imma be honest our coffee machine is crapping out again which means the steam wand won't work... so no foam.”
Sevika let out a frustrated sigh, her fists clenching momentarily. She looked down at the coffee as if willing it to change into what she had ordered. The silence stretched, and Caitlyn could almost feel the heavy tension radiating from Sevika. Finally, Sevika just let out a resigned breath. “You’re lucky this place has good coffee,” she muttered under her breath. With a final sharp look at Vi, she snatched the cup and turned away, walking toward a corner table without another word.
Vi, completely unbothered, wiped down the counter. “She’ll come around. Just gotta get her to stop expecting foam every time. Eventually, she’ll learn.” She looked up from the counter and directly at Caitlyn. When their eyes met, Caitlyn felt what could only be described as that one scene from Lego Batman where they play “I Just Died in Your Arms Tonight.” Her brain short-circuited for a moment, like time itself had paused and every other thought vanished. There was no denying it—she was totally captivated, and the last thing she could focus on was the coffee.
Caitlyn tried to remember how words worked... and, you know, how to function in general.
“You alright there, sweetheart?” Vi asked, smirking at her.
Oh no.
Caitlyn.exe has stopped working.
Before Caitlyn could formulate a coherent response, a girl with wild, unkempt blue hair dashed past her in a blur, sporting what Caitlyn could only guess was a homemade name tag reading “Powder.” She probably wasn’t supposed to be behind the counter, but there she was, grinning and waving as she accidentally bumped into everything around her, looking entirely unaware of the mess she was creating. She nearly knocked over a stack of napkins, causing a small avalanche.
“Sorry!” Powder chirped with a sheepish grin, grabbing the napkins and stacking them again—only to drop the whole pile a second later. Vi sighed audibly, casting a quick glance at the espresso machine, which seemed to have given up for the time being. “It’s alright, Powder. You’re good. Just... take a step back, yeah?” “Right!” Powder chirped, backing away just in time for the espresso machine to groan again and release another round of steam.
In the corner, the man with the cane sighed dramatically, not looking up from his book. “This place is run by idiots,” he muttered, taking a careful sip of his drink. “Love you too, doc,” Vi called back with a grin. Caitlyn blinked.
Jayce strode up to the counter like he owned the place. “Morning, Vi! The usual.” Vi smirked and handed him a black coffee without hesitation. Jayce took a sip, frowned. “Wait, I ordered a triple caramel hazelnut almond milk latte with only a hint of danger.”
“Yeah,” Vi said, leaning on the counter. “And I got you exactly what you ordered... a latte—just without the latte and the kajillion caramel almond whatever nonsense. We’re out of that.”
Jayce stared at her, nodded slowly. “Ah... I see. Thanks.” Then he walked off, a bit defeated but accepting.
Finally, after mustering up the courage, Caitlyn stepped up to the counter, willing herself to focus.
Just order coffee. Ignore the hot barista. Ignore the chaos. Just. Get. Coffee.
“I’ll... um... just a black coffee. Please.”
Vi grinned, eyes flickering over her, making Caitlyn feel alarmingly warm. “Simple. I like that.”
Oh no.
She was flirting.
Before Caitlyn could react, Powder, still very much unaware of her surroundings, handed her a cup. It was glowing neon pink.
“Ta-da! Cupcake’s Special Surprise!” Powder announced proudly.
“…I—Pardon?” Caitlyn asked, baffled.
Vi snorted. “Yeah, that’s your name now.” Powder nodded. “Yeah, every customer gets a name... but we keep the asshole customers’ names to ourselves.”
Caitlyn’s brain blue-screened.
Before she could protest, the espresso machine gave one last sputter and let out a loud pop, sending a cloud of steam into the air. The force of it splattered a mix of hot water and coffee all over the counter. Jayce yelped and ducked for cover. Powder winced, her face scrunching up slightly, eyes squinting shut as the sharp crack echoed through the room. She hesitated for a moment, then cautiously opened her eyes, peeking around the machine to assess the damage. Meanwhile, the so-dubbed "Doc" barely blinked at the commotion, turning a page in his book.
“I swear this thing is cursed!” an exasperated teen groaned, emerging from behind a stack of empty cups. He was wearing a set of grease- and coffee-stained overalls, his hair still wild as ever, and his arms were crossed, holding a wrench with a practiced hand. “That’s the third time this week!” Caitlyn could hear the frustration in his voice as he approached the broken machine. “You know, Vander really needs to scrounge up some money for a new one at some point,” he muttered, kneeling down to inspect the machine with a sigh. “It’s not even the end of the week, and it’s already about to give up again.”
Powder, who was still holding Caitlyn’s drink, looked over with wide eyes and an exaggerated frown. “I fixed it properly last time!” she declared defensively. “I swear, I did! It just... died on its own!” Ekko smirked, shaking his head, though his tone carried a good-natured edge. “Uh-huh, Powder. Sure. It just... died all on its own while you were trying to reprogram the espresso settings and mess with the steam wand to make the 'Foamageddon.'”
"It did die on its own, Ekko," Powder piped up, defensively. “And for your information, it would have made a great foamageddon if it wouldn't have died.”
Caitlyn blinked, slightly taken aback. “Foamageddon?” she repeated slowly.
Ekko didn’t even bother explaining further. Instead, he pointed at the machine, then back at the corner where they kept a small pile of repair tools. “At least we’ve got everything we need to fix it... again.” He turned his gaze back to Powder, who was staring down the machine as if it were her personal mission to make it work. “We just need to... you know... make sure it doesn’t do whatever that was again.”
Vi, who had been leaning casually against the counter, raised an eyebrow at the scene unfolding before her. “You two should probably do something about this soon before we run out of time to fix it.” Her voice was light, but Caitlyn could hear the underlying urgency—it was clear this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened.
“Yeah, yeah,” Ekko muttered, leaning in with the wrench as if preparing for battle. “We’ll fix it. Just need to get the parts. I’ll take a look at the supply list later.”
Powder smirked at the mention of parts. "Ooooh parts... perfect," she rubbed her hands together like she had an evil plan in mind. Ekko deadpanned, eyes narrowing at her. “Anyway, we’ll get it done. No worries.”
Vi smirked and shrugged. “Well, while you guys are saving the day again... I’ll be making coffee. Just normal filter coffee. No ‘Foamageddons’ for me.”
As Ekko bent over the machine with his tools, his quiet but determined attitude really stuck out. He was clearly used to this, probably dealing with way more technical issues than anyone should in one day. Caitlyn found herself amused by the chaotic scene unfolding before her. Vi was relaxed as always, while Powder bounced around like a whirlwind, her movements erratic but somehow precise. Despite the chaos she caused, her hands were quick and skilled, as if every accidental bump or collision with a nearby table only added to her focus. She immediately darted behind the counter, unphased by the explosion of steam from the espresso machine. In mere moments, she was twisting knobs, pulling levers, and tapping buttons with the ease of someone who’d seen this chaos unfold countless times before.
Ekko, who had been watching from the other side of the machine with an exasperated sigh, rolled up his sleeves and stepped in. “This is the third time this week, Powder,” he muttered, shaking his head as he joined her at the machine. “We can’t keep fixing this thing with duct tape and hope.”
“Eh, hope’s still a solid plan,” Powder grinned, her hands moving with purpose as she started tapping on the machine’s guts. “Besides, it’s a good machine. It just has... a lot of personality, y’know?”
Ekko raised an eyebrow but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at his lips. “Personality, huh? More like it’s actively trying to murder us with every cup of coffee.”
Despite the humour in his words, Ekko moved with the same fluid confidence, sliding under the counter to reattach a loose wire while Powder fiddled with the espresso lever. The two of them seemed like they were in sync, their chaotic energy coming together like a perfect storm of technical genius. "Alright, alright,” Powder muttered to herself, eyes narrowed in focus. “Let’s see if I can make you sing again, you stubborn piece of—”
She paused, adjusting a wire here and twisting a knob there. Ekko stood back for a moment, watching her with a half-smile. “You know, for someone who looks like they’re about to blow the whole place up, you always know your stuff.”
“Exactly,” Powder grinned. “And don’t forget—when this machine starts working again, you’ll have a front-row seat to watch it transform into something truly magical.”
Ekko just raised an eyebrow as the machine hummed back to life. “I’ve seen magic before... but if you blow us all up with this thing, I’m blaming you.”
As the espresso machine finally hummed with life, emitting steam with renewed power, Caitlyn could barely stifle a chuckle at the banter. Even in the middle of a chaotic morning, it was clear: this place ran on more than just caffeine. It ran on a strange kind of camaraderie, with people who found a way to make things work, even when everything was falling apart around them. And, Caitlyn had to admit; it wasn’t all that bad.
She was absolutely coming back tomorrow.