Every week, the same guy would come in for coffee. It was like clockwork. Yet somehow, I had never actually gotten to speak to him. Yet, I felt like I knew him.
It felt like everyone knew who he was. A couple million followers on a social media platform isn’t exactly all that unknown. But I still... felt it. As if I knew bits and pieces about his personality through every post he made, and each post made me want to know him more.
I tried never to focus on the negative. I knew I was just a random barista, nothing special. He was... well... him. I managed to convince myself that I would just have to accept I would always be at a lower level than him. A fan.
But one day, I had the late shift. And right on the dot, he arrives. If this was seventeen year old me, I would be having a meltdown like any other fan. But I wasn’t seventeen. Not anymore. I had gotten over that. Twenty one year old me was better than that.
I took his order, not even mentioning that I recognized him. Actually, I didn’t say much at all, which is a strange thing for me. As he handed me the money, our eyes met, and I think it was that moment that we had an entire silent conversation in a single blink.
It seemed to occur to him that I hadn’t asked for his name to put on the order, like I technically should have. He paused in the doorway, and looked back at me.
“You’re a person too, Theo. And I respect you as that, a person,” I said simply, calmly meeting his gaze.
He glanced down at the cup, seeing his name written on it. He seemed surprised.
“That’s... really.. special, thank you,” he smiled.
Each week, after that, Theo would show up at the exact time that I was on my shift, which was usually closing, and we would end up talking far after the shop had closed.
One of the days, I didn’t say anything as he walked in, unlike my usual greeting. He picked up on it immediately, asking,” Hey, are you alright? You don’t seem like yourself today.”
I nodded, handing him his order silently. My gaze remained on the floor, occasionally sneaking a look at his face, hoping the words I had written on the cup hadn’t somehow changed in the time between being written and handing the cup to him.
He seems ready to ask me what’s wrong again, but as he begins to speak, he suddenly goes quiet again. His eyes widen slightly.
“Ry...” I avert my gaze again, hiding my face slightly at his use of the nickname he had given me a couple weeks after we met.
“I...” he appeared to be struggling to find the words to explain his thoughts.
As if a switch had flipped, I went from silent to gushing,” I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made it weird. I know I’m just a barista, and you probably... And we... And.. I just... I...”
He stops me mid sentence. His gaze cuts up to meet mine. I trail off, my face somehow blushing and paling at the same time.
“Ry...” he says again, drawing the name out slightly longer this time,” If there’s anyone on this planet that would have the same feelings you do, but about you, it’s me. You’re one of the few people that I’ve met that has actually treated me like a human being. You wanna talk about calling me amazing, hell, look at yourself. You’re the one that’s truly amazing.”
I think I blew a fuse. Did he just... Am I awake? Is this happening? Hell, did whatever he just said even make sense?
I guess he saw that I was having trouble figuring out what to say, because he continues before I can speak.
“Come on, let’s go home. I’d much rather enjoy my coffee with someone else than by myself, and it just so happens that you’re someone else.” He grins, lightly kissing my cheek, then gently tugging on my sleeve before walking over to the door.
I finally snap back into reality, and I giggle a bit before rolling my eyes and finishing up with closing the shop,” And you’re something else, Theo. Why exactly are you always buying coffee at like 10 PM?”
“That’s for me to know, and for you to find out, now come on.” He reaches out, and I take his hand.
It’s a perfect end to what just happened to be exactly four months of weekly coffee visits. And it all started with a single cup.