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There was a distinct, soul-crushing lack of glamour in working the six-in-the-morning opening shift at a campus-town espresso bar.
For Jhoanna, mornings didn't start with some soft, cinematic sunrise or the comforting aroma of freshly roasted beans drifting poetically through the air. They started with the sharp, violent blare of her phone alarm at five fifteen—an alarm tone she had set to a screeching air-horn sound in a desperate daily attempt to shock her heart into beating. This was followed by twenty minutes of dragging her lifeless body out of bed, pulling her dark hair back into a tight ponytail, throwing on a worn denim apron that smelled perpetually like spilled oat milk, and hauling heavy bags of whole-bean coffee across the slick tile floor of Grind & Grain.
By six-thirty, the heavy glass door was unlocked, and Jhoanna was operating on pure, mechanical autopilot. Her hands moved through the routine without requiring a single byte of actual brainpower: measure thirty grams of coffee, tamp with steady pressure, lock the portafilter into the group head, pull the shot for twenty-seven seconds, steam the oat milk until it stretched into a velvet microfoam, wipe the steam wand, repeat.
It was a mindless, predictable rhythm. The ambient soundscape of her existence was defined by the deep thrum of the grinder, the sharp hiss of high-pressure steam, and the endless stream of sleep-deprived college students who treated her less like a human being with thoughts and feelings, and more like a glorified, human-shaped vending machine through which caffeine entered their bloodstream.
"Jho, kapag nag-overflow 'yang drip tray at napuno 'yang counter, ikaw mag-o-overtime magpunas d'yan, ha!" a voice chimed from the back room.
Jhoanna blinked, snapping out of a trance where she had been mentally calculating how many espresso shots it would take to legally knock out a horse. She stopped the machine just before dark liquid spilled over the stainless steel rim. She turned around, wiping her palms on her apron.
Stacey stood in the doorway of the supply pantry, balancing a stack of brown napkin dispensers in one arm and a greasy paper bag of cinnamon pastries in the other. Stacey was Jhoanna’s housemate, coworker, and self-appointed life supervisor. Where Jhoanna was grounded, quiet, and prone to overthinking every minor social interaction she had ever experienced since kindergarten, Stacey was an unbothered, chaotic force of nature who treated the entire physical universe as a personal sitcom written exclusively for her own entertainment.
"Nakahawak ako, Staku," Jhoanna said, wiping down the counter with a damp rag. "Nag prepare lang ako, Sobrang gulo rito mamayang eight o'clock kapag naglabasan na 'yung mga pre-med students."
"Aba, dapat lang! Lock in, Robles!" Stacey cheered, sliding the napkin holders onto the pickup counter with a loud, unnecessary clatter. "Nagmumukha ka na namang nagninilay-nilay sa meaning ng buhay d'yan. Nasaan 'yung customer service smile mo? Sell the joy! Sell the energy!"
"Magbenta ng over-priced coffee sa mga estudyanteng hindi pa natutulog nang tatlong araw? Sure, 'yan talaga 'yung definition ng joy," Jhoanna deadpanned, tossing her rag into the sanitizer bucket under the register. "Let's keep our expectations firmly grounded, okay?"
"Sobrang nega mo talaga kahit kailan," Stacey laughed, picking up a dry-erase marker. "Help me write the morning special sa board. Ano mas maganda: 'Midterm Meltdown' o 'Desperate Measures Iced Latte'?"
"I-hazelnut cold brew mo na lang 'yan," Jhoanna replied, tapping the digital register. "Kailangan na nating maubos 'yung keg sa likod bago mapanis."
"KJ mo talaga, Jho. No sense of theatricality," Stacey pouted, though she started lettering the board in elaborate, bubbly cursive anyway.
Jhoanna ignored her, turning her attention back to her station and taking a slow breath of the rich, roasted air. She actually didn't mind the job, as much as she complained to Stacey. It was predictable. It had clear, simple rules. You pressed a button, liquid came out, people handed over money, and they left. There were no messy variables, no complicated emotional dynamics, and no unpredictable turns.
Then, at precisely seven-fifteen, the brass bell above the front door gave a crisp, light chime.
Jhoanna didn't look up right away. It was a habit born of simple self-preservation; looking up every time the bell rang meant making eye contact with forty different strangers a morning, most of whom looked like they wanted to fight her for taking more than two minutes on their matcha lattes.
She kept her eyes glued to the register screen, her fingers clearing the previous transaction. "Good morning! Welcome to Grind & Grain, ano pong order nila?"
"Hi! Good morning," a voice replied.
It was just a few words, but the quality of the tone made Jhoanna’s fingers pause mid-air over the glass screen.
It wasn't the sharp, demanding bark of a professor in a rush, nor was it the muttered, half-asleep grunt of an undergraduate fighting for survival. It was bright, incredibly polite, and carried an innate, warm grace that instantly stood out.
Jhoanna raised her head.
The world didn't stop spinning, nor did slow-motion music start playing from the ceiling speakers, but for a solid three seconds, Jhoanna’s brain suffered a complete, total, catastrophic blue-screen error.
Standing on the other side of the counter was a girl Jhoanna was one-hundred-percent certain she had never seen around campus before. She was wearing an oversized, ivory-colored knit cardigan that looked softer than a cloud, the sleeves pulled down just far enough that only her fingertips showed. A structured leather tote bag hung over one shoulder, and her dark brown hair fell in loose, natural waves around her face. She had a bright, radiant smile—the kind that immediately put people at ease—and a posture that screamed elegance without a single drop of arrogance.
She was, without a single doubt, the most ridiculously charming human being Jhoanna had ever laid eyes on in real life.
Jhoanna’s hand froze over the register, the damp cloth she had been holding dropping uselessly onto the wooden counter with a pathetic flop.
Say something, her brain urged, frantically trying to reboot her motor skills. Magsalita ka! Say hi! Ask her what she wants!
Instead, Jhoanna stood there, staring like a mannequin whose internal wiring had caught fire mid-sentence.
The girl’s eyes crinkled with genuine warmth, her soft, expressive face lighting up as she noticed Jhoanna’s frozen state. She offered a gentle, reassuring laugh—polite, sweet, and entirely poised.
"Hello! First time ko kasi rito, and honestly, medyo overwhelmed ako sa menu," The girl said with an open, friendly giggle, placing her hands neatly together over her tote bag. She looked up at the board, her cheerful energy filling the small shop. "Um, kung ikaw 'yung tatanungin... kung ano 'yung best, what would you recommend?"
What would you recommend?
It was a standard question. Baristas heard it fifty times a day. There was an easy, rehearsed routine for this. You suggest the house espresso. You suggest the dark roast. You mention the blueberry scones if they look hungry, or the iced brew if it’s warm out.
Jhoanna opened her mouth. Her mind offered two perfectly reasonable, professional choices:
Option A: "Our hazelnut cold brew is on special today, subukan niyo po!"
Option B: "If you like milk-based drinks, 'yung iced vanilla latte po best-seller namin."
What Jhoanna’s vocal cords actually produced, entirely without her permission or oversight, was a single, flat, unvarnished word:
"Ako."
Silence fell over the counter.
It wasn't just a quiet moment. It was a heavy, suffocating vacuum of pure awkwardness where all atomic motion in the universe seemed to stop entirely.
Jhoanna kept her mouth slightly open, the word still ringing in her own ears like an explosive device that had gone off in a carpeted room.
What the actual hell Jhoanna Christine Robles?! she thought, her internal voice rising to a pitch reserved for aircraft crashes. Did I just tell a complete stranger, a customer, a human being I have known for thirty seconds, that my personal recommendation from the menu is MYSELF?!
A sudden, sharp noise shattered the quiet from the back prep area.
CLANG.
A plastic lid dispenser hit the floor, followed immediately by a wet, muffled cough. Behind the partition wall, Stacey had clearly inhaled her own spit in sheer, unadulterated shock. Jhoanna could hear the muffled, wheezing gasps of her friend trying not to laugh out loud, followed by the distinct sound of Stacey violently slapping her hand against the drywall for physical support.
Jhoanna wanted to die. She wanted the floor tiles beneath her shoes to open up, swallow her whole, and drop her straight into the Earth's mantle. She gripped the wooden edge of the counter so hard her knuckles turned white, her jaw locking as she stared at the girl.
The girl's reaction was immediate—not nervous or timid, but an explosion of joyful, completely unfiltered laughter.
Her eyes crinkled shut as she let out a bright, musical laugh, clapping her hands together softly. A warm, rosy flush bloomed on her cheeks, but rather than shrinking away, she looked at Jhoanna with pure, delight-filled amusement.
"Hala!" The girl giggled, covering her mouth with her sleeve, her voice full of lighthearted teasing. "Grabe naman 'yung recommendation! Kasama ba 'yan sa loyalty promo niyo rito?"
Jhoanna’s survival instincts finally kicked back in, snapping her out of her catatonic state.
"O-Oh mh god, sorry!" Jhoanna squeaked, her voice rising an octave higher than normal, sounding like a cartoon bird. She turned around so fast she nearly clipped her hip on the counter edge, slapping her hands onto the register touchscreen with awkward, aggressive force. "I mean! House roast! House roast and cinnamon swirl! 'Yun dapat ganyan! I am so sorry, nagkamali lang po!"
She grabbed a paper cup, her hands trembling so badly she almost dropped it twice while filling it from the large thermal brewer. She snatched a cinnamon pastry from the display case with metal tongs, shoved it into a paper bag with unnecessary urgency, and practically slammed both items onto the pickup counter.
"Heto po, sorry talaga!" Jhoanna said, holding her hands up defensively. "On the house na 'to. Please, kunin mo na! Consider it a sincere, formal apology for my brain filter completely failing just now. Promise, matino akong tao, nag-short circuit lang talaga utak ko. Huwag mo akong i report sa police!"
The girl laughed even harder at Jhoanna’s dramatic panic her dimples showing, her sweet, sunny demeanor shining right through. She gently took the cup and pastry, looking at Jhoanna with deep warmth and amusement.
"Grabe, thank you! Pero sobrang witty nun, ha. Direct to the point!" Aiah teased playfully, winking lightly as she adjusted her bag on her shoulder. "My name is Aiah, by the way!"
Aiah.
The name settled into Jhoanna’s mind instantly.
"Jhoanna," she managed to say, offering a small, self-deprecating smile. "Jhoanna Robles. And again, super sorry talaga!"
"It's totally fine, Jhoanna! You actually made my morning," Aiah said with a radiant, sweet smile, giving a warm wave before turning toward the door. "Thank you sa coffee! See you around!"
Jhoanna stood frozen, watching through the glass as Aiah walked down the sidewalk, radiating pure positivity.
The second the door closed, a pair of hands slammed onto Jhoanna’s shoulders from behind with the force of a wrecking ball.
"RECOMMENDATION: AKO?!" Stacey shrieked in Jhoanna’s ear, laughing so hard she was practically bent double, wheezing for oxygen. "RECOMMENDATION: AKO, JHOANNA?! PA-FALL KA GURL?! SA KINAUMAGAHANG TAPAT?!"
"Stacey, tama ka na," Jhoanna groaned, burying her face directly into her hands on the counter. "Ipa-cremate mo na ako ngayon din. Pakiusap."
"I am never letting you forget this!" Stacey wheezed, wiping actual tears from her eyes. "I-di-DM ko 'to sa lahat ng kakilala natin! Jhoanna 'Smooth Operator' Robles!"
"Subukan mo lang, itatapon ko talaga 'yung lahat nung kulay pink mong plushies sa dorm," Jhoanna muttered into her hands, though there was no real bite to it.
She lifted her head slowly, looking out the glass window at the empty sidewalk where Aiah had been standing just moments before. Her chest felt heavy with a sudden, frustrating thought.
"Hindi na 'yun babalik," Jhoanna said softly to herself. "Natakot ko ata."
Jhoanna was sure of it.
Days turned into weeks, and the initial horror of that Tuesday morning gradually turned into a lingering, embarrassing memory that haunted Jhoanna during quiet moments.
Stacey, of course, made sure Jhoanna didn't forget a single detail. Every morning shift became the time of relentless teasing.
"Hey Jho, tanong nung customer sa kabilang counter kung masarap daw ba 'yung matcha," Stacey would call out from the espresso machine. "Sabihin ko ba mas masarap ka?"
"Itatapon ko sa mukha mo 'tong basahan," Jhoanna would answer without looking up from her work.
"Lakas kasi ng loob mo mag bida bida no'ng umaga na 'yun, tapos ngayon nanginginig ka!" Stacey would grin. "Next time na may magandang customer, 'wag ka nang magsalita. Isulat mo na lang cellphone number mo sa napkin tapos mag-walkout ka."
Jhoanna ignored her, but as the days went on, her eyes kept turning toward the front door against her own will.
Every time the brass bell chimed, Jhoanna’s head would snap up automatically. She watched hundreds of people walk through those doors: hurried professors, loud groups of freshmen, tired delivery drivers, and stressed grad students. But none of them had that radiant, bright smile, that polite grace, or eyes that made Jhoanna completely forget how to speak like a functioning member of society.
Baka nga natakot talaga, Jhoanna thought during her lunch breaks, staring out at the campus green. Baka sa kabilang coffee shop na 'yun pumupunta. Mas mahal doon, pero at least walang barista na nag-aalok ng sarili niya sa order.
By the third week, Jhoanna gave up hope. She officially stored the whole thing away in her mind under the category of embarrassing moments she’d cringe about in the middle of the night for years to come. She went back to her usual mechanical rhythm: tamp, pull, steam, wipe, repeat.
Then came a rainy Thursday afternoon.
It was a dreary, gray day. A sudden downpour had swept across campus around three o'clock, pushing most students indoors and leaving Grind & Grain quiet. The shop was peaceful—just the sound of rain tapping against the large display windows and the low hum of indie music playing over the speakers.
Jhoanna was crouching near the display case, restocking paper napkins and minding her own business, when the front bell chimed.
"Welcome to Grind & Grain!" Jhoanna called out out of habit, not bothering to look up as she shoved a fresh stack into the plastic holder. "Order lang po kayo, I’ll be right with you!"
"Take your time, Jhoanna!" a bright, melodious voice replied.
Jhoanna froze.
The stack of napkins slipped right out of her hands, scattering across the clean tile floor in a tragic shower of paper.
Slowly, carefully, like she was afraid moving too fast would ruin the moment, Jhoanna stood up.
Standing near the entrance, shaking rain off a small navy umbrella, was Aiah.
She wasn't wearing the ivory cardigan today. Instead, she had on a dark denim jacket over a simple black turtleneck, dark jeans, and a pair of round glasses resting neatly on her nose. She had a sweet, bubbly expression, her face instantly lighting up as she locked eyes with Jhoanna.
She looked so effortlessly grounded, warm, and stunning.
Jhoanna’s brain immediately threatened to crash again.
Panic. Hide. Duck behind the counter. Call in sick.
"Stacey," Jhoanna whispered out of the side of her mouth, keeping her eyes glued to Aiah as she stepped toward the register. "Stacey, palit muna tayo. Ikaw muna rito sa harap."
Stacey popped her head out from the back, took one look at Aiah, and then looked at Jhoanna’s terrified face. A slow, evil, mischievous grin spread across Stacey’s face.
"Ayoko nga!" Stacey whispered back, giving Jhoanna a firm, aggressive nudge toward the register. "Harapin mo 'yang crush mo mag isa. Go!"
Jhoanna stumbled forward, catching her balance on the wooden counter just as Aiah walked up with a big, bright grin.
"Hi! Hello again!" Aiah greeted warmly, resting her hands neatly on the counter edge. "Kamusta ka?"
"H-Hello!" Jhoanna blurted out. She cleared her throat, trying hard to sound calm, collected, and composed. "Welcome back to Grind & Grain! Long time no see!"
"Oo nga eh! Medyo naging busy lang sa classes," Aiah said with a soft, friendly laugh. Her eyes twinkled with playfulness behind her glasses. " Pero space out talaga ako no'ng huling punta ko rito."
"Ah... twenty-six days ago," Jhoanna said immediately.
The words left her mouth before she could stop them. Jhoanna shut her eyes briefly, internally groaning. "I mean! Hindi ko binibilang, ha! Tumatak lang sa memory ko kasi... alam mo na... inventory tracking style!"
Aiah let out a delighted, bubbly laugh, her whole face crinkling in sweet amusement. "Grabe, inventory tracking talaga? Tanda mo pa exact days!"
"Oo, syempre! Systematic tayo rito," Jhoanna nodded awkwardly, leaning her elbows on the counter to hide her nervous, shaking hands. "So... ano'ng order natin today? House roast ulet? O pastry?"
Aiah didn't look at the menu board behind her this time. She kept her bright, warm eyes right on Jhoanna, leaning in with a friendly, mischievous tilt of her head.
"Actually, bumalik ako rito kasi gusto kong i-correct 'yung order ko," Aiah said with a sweet, confident smile.
Jhoanna blinked. "I-correct?"
"Yes!" Aiah nodded, her voice full of lighthearted charm. "Naisip ko kasi pag-uwi ko no'n, parang 'di ko napanindigan 'yung response ko. Natawa lang ako tapos umalis na 'ko."
Jhoanna’s chest tightened. "Huh?" Nag la-lag na naman ang utak nya sa ngiti nito. Jusko lord help.
"You were so cute and funny, tapos hinayaan lang kita mag-panic," Aiah giggled softly, leaning a bit closer across the counter with pure, unfiltered warmth. " Kaya ako bumalik today... gusto ko ng do-over."
Jhoanna swallowed, her mind catching up with what was happening. "A do-over?"
"Yup! Starting from the top," Aiah smiled brightly, striking a polite, mock-formal pose. She looked at the menu board for a second, then looked straight back at Jhoanna with an adorable, teasing glint in her eyes. "Good afternoon! First time ko po rito... ano po 'yung best recommendation niyo?"
Jhoanna felt a sudden, warm rush through her chest. The awkwardness of the past month, the teasing, the overthinking—it all vanished in an instant.
She didn't freeze this time. She didn't stumble over her words.
Jhoanna leaned in a little closer across the counter, a genuine, unbothered smile spreading across her face.
"Ako," Jhoanna said, her voice steady, playful, and completely clear.
Aiah’s eyes lit up with absolute delight, a gorgeous, radiant laugh erupting from her. She clapped her hands softly before resting them back on the counter, looking at Jhoanna with admiring warmth.
"Ayan! Mas pinalakas at mas sigurado na ngayon, ha!" Aiah teased gently, her eyes sweet and inviting. "Sige nga... magkano naman po 'yan?"
Behind the wall, a sudden, heavy thud echoed as Stacey clearly bumped into a metal shelf in shock.
Neither of them paid any attention to it.
Jhoanna reached across the polished wood, her fingers lightly brushing the top of Aiah’s hand. Aiah didn't pull away; she turned her hand over with natural, easy warmth, letting her fingers lace comfortably into Jhoanna’s.
"Isang dinner date lang," Jhoanna said softly, smiling sincerely. " Libre na coffee at pastry mo today."
Aiah let out a soft, happy hum, her bright smile making Jhoanna’s whole month feel instantly complete.
"Deal!" Aiah beamed, giving Jhoanna’s hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "Pero ako mamimili ng kakainan natin, ha?"
"Kahit saan mo gusto, sasamahan kita," Jhoanna replied, feeling lighter than she had in a long time. "Basta promise me hindi ka na aabot ng twenty-six days bago magpakita ulit."
Aiah laughed sweetly, her fingers squeezing Jhoanna’s hand back. "Silly! Of course not! How about tonight at seven?"
"Tonight at seven," Jhoanna agreed smoothly.
From the back, Stacey finally peeked around the corner, holding a broom like a prop weapon and staring at them with wide eyes. "Jhoanna! Kunin mo na number, dali! 'Wag ka nang mag-pabebe d'yan!"
Aiah giggled softly, pulling out her phone with a bright smile, while Jhoanna just shook her head, unable to take her eyes off the warm, radiant girl on the other side of the counter.
For the first time all month, Jhoanna was genuinely, deeply glad she worked the opening shift.