TO THINK OF CHANGE

(set: $Alma to "true") Your name is Almalexia; It’s a strange name but it is uniquely yours. You’re a young girl in her early twenties, still learning what it means to be anyone at all. You’re unsure what you want of your life: With no career path chosen, no partner, no friends, no hobbies or prospects outside of your job as a barista at Purveyor’s Brew, you feel as lost as can be. You had been so certain these were all question marks that should've been laid to rest in adolescence but you suppose you’re a bit of a late bloomer. You are incredibly embarrassed by this. In all reality, you have no one to blame for this existence other than yourself. Your ambitions are limited: You have no real desire to pursue a career and have no hobbies of your own. You’ve grown so accustomed to the daily routine of heading to work and back that you’ve neglected relationships platonic and otherwise. It is a shame and you know it. Yet, you do nothing to fix it. The Purveyor’s Brew has been a home to you for about a year now; A long time to most but compared to your fellow baristas you’re still actually quite new. Fresh, they say. You enjoy your time there but it is, frankly, all you have. How sad is that? Maybe you should leave. [[EXIT YOUR HOME.]]

Cold, steady breaths escape your lips as your eyes open. Darkness greets you, the blurred view of the ceiling above your head grounding you from your dreams instantly. It’s a new day and you despise every implication that comes with this realization. You awoke just moments before your morning alarm which is, only now, ringing. With a brief smack, it is silenced, and you are - officially - awake. [[GET UP. GET OUT.]]

Slowly, your life returns to you, the last remnants of the dream lingering in your mind now completely fading. Who are you? =|= (align:"=><=")[[ALMALEXIA]] <CENTER><img src="https://64.media.tumblr.com/bb4970eb91001cbccff0e05db24fb481/04db886b0b94dfd0-65/s400x600/42d0af6ff7d0a8114e68e727921993f39af5cac2.pnj" > She who lives despite it all.</CENTER> =|= (align:"=><=")[[SETH]] <CENTER><img src="https://64.media.tumblr.com/b37c32abd837a7f472fce12b17a68d85/47dc4e23f53d85e7-2a/s400x600/d5e18f70894b604401940b12c149d444fa17337e.pnj" > He who mourns despite it all.</CENTER> |==|

(set: $Seth to "true") Your name is Seth; An ordinary name for a not-so-ordinary fellow. Try as you might, you’re not nearly as average as you attempt to be. Any and all attempts to blend in and make yourself as small as possible fails when you surround yourself by the colorful crew you do. The Purveyor’s Brew has been your home for as long as you can remember - which, surprisingly, isn't that long. It’s been six years and you've put so much of yourself into this coffee shop that your life before it isn't much more than a blur of vague memories. Not that it bothers you much, really, considering very few of the memories you do have of your past are positive. You began your career as a barista in high school. Sophomore year, to be exact, joined alongside your best friend, brother, and soul-mate: Enzo Alonso. The stories of all the trouble you two have stirred in this beach town could fill a library. You could never shy away from the gaze of consequence with a man like that at your side. But this isn’t about him. No. For once, the story is about you. You take pride in what you've done in the Purveyor's Brew. You’ve done far more to help drive this business forward as a manager than you ever thought possible. Without you, Purveyor’s Brew would’ve seen its end many times over. Yet - You are desperate to leave. [[EXIT YOUR HOME.]]

<img src="https://64.media.tumblr.com/34383b080a4775123415f12f110b54e5/0631bcdaef366257-0b/s1280x1920/d58742e9030f9840edffa079711c97b65f504db5.pnj" width=“200” height=“50”> TO THINK OF CHANGE is an interactive fiction story / journal where I write the daily lives of two characters loosely based on my own as a barista. This is just a small silly side project with a bit of a surreal twist to it. Characters and places are unique and though the story is loosely inspired by my personal experiences none of the contents of the story are meant to reflect real people or real situations. Minor TW for derealization/depersonalization and hallucinating. [[BEGIN]] [[CHAPTER LOG]] [[CHARACTER LIST]]

Donning the(if:$Seth is "true")[white long sleeve button up, black pants, and red apron you wear every single day to work, you head out. It's not an outfit you even remotely like. In fact, you've argued against this uniform repeatedly during meetings with management and ownership of the store but ultimately you were outnumbered and outmatched. The uniform was set and you had to accept it. The morning is cold, biting but not unmanageable. You're used to it, of course. The weather never seems to change here. Always cloudy, always chilly - matching your typical melancholic disposition. It is almost comforting by now. Almost. It’s not the most pleasant experience but you begin your walk to work. Your small apartment is only a short distance to the boardwalk where Purveyor’s Brew is located. So, you stuff your hands into your pockets and brave the morning.](if:$Alma is "true")[white short-sleeved blouse, black pants, and red apron you wear every single day to work, you grab your bag and head out the door. The uniform is not an outfit you particularly dislike but it's not something you'd choose to wear either. At least you look good in red. The morning is terribly cold but what else was new? You attempt to warm your hands by breathing hot breaths into them on your way to your bike. Luckily, the coffee shop isn't far from your home at all - just a short bike ride away. You press yourself to hop on and bike as quickly as you can, the peddling keeping your body warm despite the cold air rushing past your face. Normally, you’re not this diligent when it comes to head out and arriving on time, but today feels different somehow. You’ve got a slight boost of energy, a sudden craving for- what is it? Productivity? Progress? Change? You don’t let yourself dwell on it.] [["Another day, another dollar"]]

<img src="https://64.media.tumblr.com/469a6c1feb2f4a1657af0767b9c86ff1/a1825f18c58df5cc-c6/s1280x1920/9ccd1bdae122b415a9675e81d8699b087c02d920.pnj"> Just as you arrive, the sun makes its appearance, bathing the coffee shop in a warm golden glow and freeing you from the chill of dawn. The Purveyor’s Brew coffee shop stands before you - certainly no longer in it’s prime. (if:$Seth is "true")[You will never understand the decision to build a coffee shop inside a wooden shack, right on the sand when there is a perfectly good boardwalk just behind it. Aside from not being structurally sound, you find it hideous. Not only that, but you can hardly even *tell* its a coffee shop from the outside. There isn’t even a sign, for Christ’s sake. Your pleas for one have fallen on deaf ears, unfortunately, the shop’s ownership *Madame Lafeyette* claiming *’customers find us just fine without something as gaudy as a sign’.* What irritates you most is that she is right. Everyone, even tourists, somehow just… know. Though, after the many years you've worked here, you've learned to stop questioning it’s existence. If this place were to collapse, literally or figuratively, it likely would've by now.] (if:$Alma is "true")[It still surprises you to see such a building stand so stable over such loose beach sand. Surely it's not safe for the business to operate... right? Well, either way, you can’t help but admit the weathered building has a certain charm to it. The chipped wood, the creak in its front steps, the hum of machinery inside- it’s… nice. Cozy. Home. You only hope that, if this place does eventually go down, it won't take you with it.] [[LOOK AROUND]] [[GO INSIDE]]

''CHAPTER LOG'' List of chapters + small summary + date posted (this page is under construction) - [[BEGIN]] - -

(this page is under construction)

During the summer, these sands are chock full of tourists and townsfolk alike. It's a loud mess of sunburns and colorful towels. However, it's currently fall nearing winter, so there are no crowds to be seen. Business has been slow but you hardly mind; You've always preferred the slow trickle of regulars over the rushes of strangers. (if:$Alma is "true")[Staring out into the horizon on this particular beach has always had a calming effect on you. The ocean, vast in its mysteriousness, calls to you like an old friend. Some days you find it hard to ignore its voice. Today is one of those days. But… you have a shift to tend to.] (if:$Seth is "true")[The sand is bothersome and so is the stench of the ocean. Both follow you to and from work. It's a bit of a nightmare, really. You truly, really, deeply, detest it here.] [[GO INSIDE]]

(front of store art goes here) The front door was unlocked, allowing you in. The alarm is also disarmed judging by the distinct lack of it going off. Seems like you're not the first one in today. (if:$Seth is "true")[( Normally, only management or shift leads would have keys to an establishment like this, but the team here is so very small and Madame Lafayette is so very trusting. So, everyone has a set of keys.] There are only two baristas per shift. Today, you're lucky enough to be paired with (if:$Seth is "true")[Almalexia.](if:$Alma is "true")[Seth.] (if:$Seth is "true")[She's not usually on time and certainly never *earlier* that you. In fact, you had given up on correcting her at this point, knowing that if she wanted to change - she would. But, this was new and you knew better than to complain. You're a pretty lenient manager, all things considered.] (if:$Alma is "true")[He's certainly not your favorite co-worker to be on shift with but, all things considered, he's pretty alright. As far as managers go, he's not too bad either. He’s distant and cagey and bosses you around way more than Enzo, the other manager, does so working with him is hardly fun but he’s also kind and understanding and, most importantly, flexible. He’s let your consistent tardiness slide way more than anyone else likely would. Personally, you don’t know him very well due to the aforementioned caginess which you find to be quite a shame. You’ve heard stories of how fun he *can* be and it makes you wonder what’s changed in him to so… square.] You make your way around the counter toward the POS system and clock in, then head to the backroom to put your things away and get to work. [["Good morning"]]

You find Almalexia at the front of the store, lingering by the POS system as she checks her phone. The two of you don't chat very often and certainly not on shift; You're both of an introverted and withdrawn disposition but you've got time so you decide to test your luck. Alma is quick to anger, however. You, and the whole team really, know this well. The game plan should be to keep to small talk. You mentally rehearse your conversation opener as you walk towards her; You're not the most charismatic person around so planning ahead helps you feel confident. Unfortunately, you're about four steps and no solid opener away from her when *she* first speaks to *you*. "*Seth, I got a question-*" Ah. [["About-?"]]

You're so used to the many corners and crevices of this store that you find yourself surprised by what you overlook on a day to day basis. Was that light always there? Were those beams always black instead of dark brown? You could've sworn you had more chairs- There's so many little things that change each day that you wonder if maybe someone comes in and just- moves everything one inch every night. You wouldn't be surprised considering how silly the crew you work with is - that's something you could easily see Mateo or even Enzo doing. You look around and take stock of interesting things to view. [[VIEW THE MURAL]] [[VIEW THE ESPRESSO MACHINE]] [[LOOK AROUND IN THE BACK OF HOUSE]] [["I'm done looking around"]]

You find Seth at the back, writing on a clipboard by the storage. He seems to be getting a head start on checking store inventory. Or, at least you assume so. You vaguely remember hearing it’s something that needs to get done every Monday and today was, in fact, Monday. Should you really bother him now? The two of you don't chat very often and certainly not on shift; You're both of an introverted and withdrawn disposition, but you've got time so- why not try? //"Hey, Seth."// You greet simply as you make your way towards him. He looks up from his clipboard with an inquisitive //"hm?"//. [["How was your weekend?"]] [["Whatcha doin'?"]]

(set: $choc to "true") "*Did Enzo ever get back to you about making more of those chocolate croissants? Customers keep asking me about them and we've been out for like.. a week now.*" She sets her phone down and turns her body to face you, one hand resting on the counter while the other presses into her hip. You really didn't want to talk about work but... well, you're *at* work. You can't be too upset, really. You’re also not super enthused about having to answer for the failings of your fellow manager but- alas, it is at least partially your job to. "*He's working on it. Should be in tomorrow*" At least, that's what Enzo *assured* you yesterday when you reminded him for the forth time this week. Pastries are his responsibility. He pre-preps the ones the shop makes in-house and places orders for the ones you don’t. But, Enzo was the eternal slacker you knew him to be. You often wonder why he ever accepted a management role in the first place. To spite you, probably. It’s the only reason he ever does anything, you’re certain of it. [["So, how have you been?"]] [["Are we out of anything else?"]]

Alma flashes you a confused look before meekly shrugging her shoulders, averting her gaze to her phone as her brows furrow slightly. She looks hesitant, surprised you asked and too tired to *truly* answer. Too heavy of a question, perhaps. You wince internally at your lack of social tact. //"Been fine, I guess,"// She responds vaguely, //"Nothing.. new or.. interesting going on?"// You press on- as if that’ll help anything. You frankly don’t know what you’re doing. She shrugs again and only briefly meets your gaze before crossing her arms and staring intently at the espresso machine to her right, her reflection in it’s shiny surface greeting her. You look too, following her gaze to the doppelganger living in the metal. Accidentally, your eyes meet in the reflection and her mouth turns downward. //"Nothing super exciting.. Why-? Are you-.."// She pauses, a thought crossing her mind. A thought she doesn’t like, you think. Regret pools in your stomach. You shouldn’t have said anything. //"-Are you.. like.. *worried* about me?"// Her voice breaks through the thoughts of regret in your mind and you raise a brow, more taken aback by the question than insulted. Were you meant to be insulted-? Surely not- right? This is just you being defensive. Surely. Suddenly, you realize she’s facing you again, gaze squarely focused on you. She looks as concerned as she claims you to be. You note a slight redness in her cheeks as well. Great. You’ve embarrassed her with your questioning. It then occurs to you then that, for this to be her reaction, you must come across as awfully cold to her on a normal basis. You asked something as innocent as ‘*what’s been up with you?’* and she’s treating you like a cop, scouring for answers. Or like a concerned teacher, a worried family friend- essentially: a stranger, uncomfortably prying into her life. Or maybe there was something to be worried about after all and she’s afraid you sniffed it out. [["Should I be?"]] [["Not worried, just.. making small talk."]]

//"I don't think so but I could check if you want,"// she replied with a disinterested shrug. You shake your head. //"It's fine, I'm meant to do the inventory today anyhow."// Definitely not something you're looking forward to. //"Could we get more of those wax melts we used to have-? The ones Enzo got to make the store smell *christmas-y* last year?"// Ah, the wax melts. You haven't repurchased them in a while as the smell bothered your nose. They only ever bothered you, though, and the customers did seem to enjoy it a fair bit too. You really don't want them back but... well... //"Sure, yeah. I think I know where he bought them. Do you want the same ones or- a different scent?"// Alma thought it over before nodding to herself. //"Same ones. They were really.. festive, you know?"// She wants Christmas scented wax melts for the middle of fall. You’re certain at least two of the other baristas would complain about it, so, you quietly decide to not get the Christmas scented ones - but ones.. similar enough. A compromise. “Ok. I’ll see if I can find them,” you lie. She offers a small smile and tilts her head. “Cool. Thanks.” You're not sure why Alma's suggestion swayed your dislike toward wax melts but you quickly found yourself adding it to today's store shopping list. You might grab a second scent too, just in case you find something more suave and palatable to your nose. Maybe then you can keep them year round. Despite not being sure how much time you have left until the first customer comes in, you decide to get a head start on the inventory. You grab your clipboard and get to counting in the back room, leaving Alma to tinker with her phone until the shop opened in full. Your productivity is short lived, however. [[ The first customer of the day walks in. ]]

At that, she laughs, surprising you. //"I mean- depends?"// Her embarrassed expression gives way to a look of- you can’t exactly tell what her face is expressing here, actually. She’s averted her gaze again and is smiling to herself but her brows are still taut, furrowed. To some degree, she seems amused by the implication that you, of all people, are worried about her. There could be a couple of reasons anyone would be worried about Almalexia, you think. You don’t know a great deal about her personal life but what you do know does inform you a smidge on what this could be about. From what you do know, Alma lives alone with her mother, Atea Minerva, in a small neighborhood not far from this very beach: Hollow Cove. They’re wealthy, you think, though you don’t know what it is her mother works in or why Alma would work *here* if that were the case. Her mother is often away, travelling for work you presume, and you know the two don’t usually get along. This is based on rumors you hear the other baristas murmuring about: Chatter you usually don’t indulge in. You know she is younger than you by one or two years. She isn’t in college or taking any sort of class that you know of. She is an only child and is prone to bouts of anger and immaturity - not due to being an only child, though the possible connection doesn’t escape you. She is currently single but this is a rather recent development. Her previous partner was a man named Arthur or.. Armin..? Armin something- you don’t recall exactly. He was an interesting character. Real macho type, came in often to chat with her, striding in wearing an actual real cowboy hat with the tacky heeled boots to match. You remember her slacking around on the customer’s side of the bar while on shift all too well. The arguments you two had back then… yeesh. You were so sure she’d quit any day. Yet, here she is. You don’t know why they broke up but you have certainly seen a difference in her now. [["You're not late today."]] [["If.. there's something you want to talk about.."]]

//"Oh,"// Her cheeks flush into a deeper shade of pink, one that has you feeling guilty. //"Sorry. Uh… I didn't mean to get so.. defensive."// Her reaction has made you wonder if maybe there really is something going on. You know better than to press but the curiosity within you is hard to deny. //"I started reading a new book,"// she suddenly spoke again, shyly averting her gaze and rubbing her cheek with the back of her hand, //"I think you might like it. It's about a kid that goes missing in a cave. Everyone's looking for him but turns out the cave was connected to like- a series of tunnels that led him to the middle of the ocean, on an island. It's kind of like.. Alice in Wonderland meets Lost."// Huh… interesting detour in the conversation. Seems like you were right to not press or prod. She doesn’t want to talk about whatever’s going on, *if* there’s even something going on. She's certainly right, too, you are intrigued. You love horror fiction. //"Maybe I'll borrow it off you sometime."// You reply simply, not quite smiling but also keeping your tone light. If she wanted to change the topic, you’d let her. Alma laughed a small, rigid laugh, glancing your way nervously. She flashes you a mischievous grin then, falling back into her usual sarcastic demeanor. //"Or you could buy your own copy."// There she is. //"Right- or that."// [[ The first customer of the day walks in. ]]

She shifts her weight between her two feet, staring down at the floor as she pensively chews her bottom lip. "There isn't," she replied after much deliberation. Where to go from here? You worry you might've offended her somehow and you don't quite know how to rectify the situation. This isn’t something you usually do, really. Chatting about personal affairs with your co-workers never came easily to you. You decide to go with the easiest solution: Apologizing. //"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry-"// Alma sighs, interrupting you. //"No, it's fine. I-… I didn't mean to get so defensive."// There was a small pause, neither of you quite knowing what to say. Outside, the waves continue to crash and the seagulls continue their jarring morning song. //"I just... I dunno. I've been kinda on edge. Sorry."// Before you can assure her it's fine, she speaks again, this time seeming much more comfortable. The tension in her shoulders slowly drops and she musters a smile your way. *"I started reading a new book. I think you might like it.”* Very sudden change of topic. Clearly, she was saying *I appreciate the concern but, dude, its ok.* She knows you’re a big reader and found an out to the conversation, saving you quite a lot of embarrassment and certainly saving herself in the process as well. You want to smile but you’re afraid the look of relief on your face might just send the wrong message. Besides, you’re not the type to smile much anyway. It would be stranger if you did. *“It's about a kid that goes missing in a cave,” she continued, “Everyone's looking for him but turns out the cave was connected to like- a series of tunnels that led him to the middle of the ocean, on an island. It's kind of like.. Alice in Wonderland meets Lost. There’s lots of like- body horror and tentacles and stuff in it too. Super gruesome."* Dark. She's certainly right, though, you are intrigued. Though you’re already chugging through a horror novel yourself you do find the premise interesting enough to warrant a look into. //"Maybe I'll borrow it off you sometime, then."// You reply, a ghost of a smile on your lips. //"Maybe."// Her smile is more confident than yours. [[ The first customer of the day walks in. ]]

The first customer is normally one of the store's regulars, coming all the way to the beach to snag some coffee before work. You admire the dedication, seeing as the store is.. quite out of the way. Today, however, that is not the case. Someone new comes in the very moment the front door is unlocked. In walks a young woman with a tight high ponytail, a phone wedged between her ear and shoulder and a heavy purse wearing the other shoulder down. She seems to be in a hurry, so you stand at the register ready to greet her. Behind you, (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth] gets an espresso shot ready before she even orders. “Good morning-” She greets breathlessly as her nervous eyes scan the menu on the wall behind you. You offer a polite smile and greet her in kind. “Morning. What can I get started for you?” You hear the person on the other side of her phone continuing to chatter while she considers her options. She furrows her brow and adjusts the phone’s position, taking it from her shoulder to hold it in her hand. “Let me get a-.. sorry, one sec-” She presses the phone to her cheek and mutters to it, something along the lines of *give me a sec, I'm ordering!* You wait patiently, as you’re paid to. Though she’s not a regular, this is kind of a trend you’ve noticed: As of late, customers have been coming in seeming.. frantic. Nervous. Stressed. If they’re so busy, why would they come all the way to the beach for their coffee? Doesn’t their office have a keurig? It makes you wonder. “Sorry- uh, just a cappuccino, please. Um, with oat milk? If you have it?” “Yes, ma’am. Anything else for you today?” ”No, that’s all, thank you-!” She replies quickly before returning to her phone call. You nod and tap the screen before you to finalize her order. Behind you, milk is being steamed and before she even pays the cappuccino is served. She offers (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth] a nervous smile as she digs through her purse for change, then pays the exact amount needed. Shortly after, she is out the door and the two of you are alone again. [["Have you noticed-?"]]

It’s quite the casual conversation starter. You pat yourself on the back for that. Seth shrugs, then looks back to his clipboard as he responds. "Fine." You wait to see if he plans to add anything to that but you're met with Seth's typical silence. He doesn’t seem annoyed by your attempts at small talk but you can see he’s not particularly interested in it either. He is certainly not the easiest person to talk to but you're determined to keep trying. "Do anything fun?" you ask, tilting your head a smidge, hands behind your back as you curiously watch him. “Or did you just- work your weekend away again?” A slight jab, sure, but also true. Seth was known to come into the coffee shop even on his days off. A true workaholic. This seems to catch Seth off-guard as he lowers his clipboard once again. A flash of disappointment crosses his features, a slight grimace that says: *Damn. I’m that predictable?* You suppress the urge to grin. Getting any kind of expression out of Seth’s deadpan face is always a huge win in your book. "I.. met with Enzo this Saturday, planned some things out for the store, and Sunday I rested. That's all, really," He answered, forcing his gaze back onto the clipboard. Silently, he began ticking boxes off. Working during his days off was no surprise; Everyone knew Seth pretty much lived at this store. From the little that you know, Enzo, the only other manager at //Purveyor's Brew//, and Seth have been close friends since they were young. If you remember correctly, they both started working here as teens at the very same time and they’ve been here ever since. They’ve grown very close to the owners and, well, the rest is history. Now they basically run the store on their own. You wonder if he's happy here. You lose yourself to your thoughts for a moment and it’s suddenly Seth’s turn to catch you off-guard. [[“What about you? What did you do over the weekend?"]]

(BACKROOM CONVO WITH SETH SPRITE) "Inventory." You already knew that. "If possible, could you keep an eye on the front of house while I work on this? We should be getting our first few customers soon," he adds and you nod despite your disappointment. You couldn’t imagine being shut down as hard as you just were before meeting Seth. He’s pretty good at that sort of thing - getting through pleasantries and small talk, cutting through any social attempt with a blunt knife. It’s a bummer, really, but you get it. He’s busy and the two of you aren’t really friends. You’re hardly even friendly with each other. It makes you wonder what his life is like outside of work. You know he is close friends with Enzo, the other store manager, but the two are so polar opposite you have no idea how that started or how they’re *still* friends. From the little that you know, Enzo and Seth have been close friends since they were young. If you remember correctly, they both started working here as teens at the very same time and they’ve been here ever since. They’ve grown very close to the owners and, well, the rest is history. Now they basically run the store on their own. You wonder if he's happy here. [[HEAD TO FRONT OF HOUSE]]

After that failure of a conversation, you head to the front as instructed and realize there's still ten whole minutes before the store is open. What will you do to kill time? [[LOOK AROUND STORE]] [[CHECK PHONE]]

You pull out your phone, the lockscreen greeting you with a photo of you and your childhood cat, Louvis. He's so precious and seeing him brightens your morning up instantly, forcing Seth’s rudeness out of our mind. Notification wise you've got nothing new going on. Some spam email notifications, a few missed calls from your mom from yesterday, and that slime game you downloaded eons ago trying to get you to play again. Boring. You decide to just- spend some time scrolling social media. Not like there's anything better to do. Pictures of old high school friends, celebrities, and silly cat photos wash over you. You’re not entertained but you’re not cripplingly bored either. [[ The first customer of the day walks in. ]]

(if:$Alma is "true")[This mural was here when you first began working at the store and it never ceases to amaze you. It's very cool looking, and though you don't know a single thing about art you can easily guess to took //forever// to finish. You wonder if it was commissioned by Seth or Enzo or if it had been there when they were only baristas too. It fits his style, so you assume it's the former. Then again, you could always ask. On the left hand side there's a signature; The lettering is in very tight cursive so a smidge hard to read, but it looks like it says *Juliet*. You've heard that name thrown around a few times before but you don't really know exactly who that is. At the very least, you can assume this Juliet is incredibly talented.] (if:$Seth is "true")[This mural is practically your best friend at this point. Considering how many hours a day you spend at this store, it’s painted gaze staring you down, you feel as though it knows you better than anyone. It keeps you company. That’s not sad, you decide. You remember when Enzo had it commissioned, he had just been promoted to management alongside you and took Madame Lafayette’s request to “revamp” the “style” of the store very seriously. He was desperate to give it a fresh new "vibe" and she was more than happy to fund his ideas. Shame he never applied that excitement to the rest of the store. Still, the mural was a good choice. On the left hand side there's a signature; The lettering is in very tight cursive so a smidge hard to read, but it looks like it says *Juliet*. You wonder how she's doing nowadays.] [[VIEW THE ESPRESSO MACHINE]] [[LOOK AROUND IN THE BACK OF HOUSE]] [["I'm done looking around"]]]

(ESPRESSO MACHINE + PITCHERS ART GOES HERE) (if:$Alma is "true")[This machine is a such a trooper. From what you hear, it's been here since the store first opened and it still runs like brand new. It never hiccups or falters. It’s the strongest person in the crew and you have nothing but respect for it. On the top there are mugs of various sizes and, on the side handle of the machine is a small charm in the shape of a portafilter. You love an espresso machine who knows how to accessorize. To the right is the pitcher rinser which houses, you guessed it, the pitchers. Everyone at //Purveyor's Brew// has their own pitcher. Yours is a cream handleless pitcher, a gift from your mother. You don't use it so it lives on top of the espresso machine with all the mugs. Usually, you use Seth's pitcher. He doesn't like it but you do it anyways - his is the coolest after all. His pitcher is a simple black with one of the //Purveyor's Brew// stickers on the side, a flame with a coffee mug inside. You wonder if his pitcher is a workaholic too.] (if:$Seth is "true")[Every time you look at the espresso machine you're reminded of all the service that's due on it. Today, for example, you need to give it a nice deep clean during closing. You also need to replace a few parts. You notice it dripping when not in use for a while and sometimes it hums a little too loudly when pulling a shot. It makes you nervous. Still, it runs surprisingly well considering its age so you try not to stress on it too much. On the top there are mugs of various sizes and, on the side handle of the machine is a small charm in the shape of a portafilter. You believe it was a gift from a customer. To the right is the pitcher rinser which houses everyone's milk pitchers. Most baristas at //Purveyor's Brew// have their own pitcher. Yours is a simple black with one of the //Purveyor's Brew// stickers on the side, a flame with a coffee mug inside. Alma loves using your pitcher for some reason. You don't really mind. Her's is a cream handleless pitcher, a gift from her mother - because of this, Alma refuses to use it. Like a child.] [[VIEW THE MURAL]] [[LOOK AROUND IN THE BACK OF HOUSE]] [["I'm done looking around"]]]

(if:$Alma is "true")[The back room is kept very clean and organized at all times. Seth might snap and kill everyone if there's ever a mess here so- everyone's pretty on top of it. It currently smells of baked goods and feels a little warm since the croissants just came out the oven. It's very cozy, especially at this early hour. There is a coat/bag rack by the cup storage area, beside the alternative milks and dry storage. To the right, there is a large freezer and a fridge, and beside those the oven.] (if:$Seth is "true")[The back room is kept very clean and organized at all times. It's the one thing you demand of everyone: Organization and cleanliness. You're proud of how you set up this room. Before your promotion to manager, it was a total mess all. the. time. It drove you insane. It currently smells of baked goods and feels a little warm since the croissants just came out the oven. You're so used to the smell it hardly affects you anymore. There is a coat/bag rack by the cup storage area, beside the alternative milks and dry storage. To the right, there is a large freezer and a fridge, and beside those the oven.] [[LOOK IN FRIDGE]] [[LOOK AT PREP STATION]] [[LOOK BEHIND STORAGE SHELF]] [["I'm done looking around"]]]

After reacquainting yourself with the store you spend nearly every single day in, you head to the front of the store, ready to tackle the day. It's then that the front door chime sounds off. [[ The first customer of the day walks in. ]]

(set: $Fridge to "true") The fridge is much less organized than the back room as a whole. It's got plenty of back up milks for the front fridge, ingredients both for syrup making and for the sandwiches on the menu. There's also someone's forgotten lunch - it's been there a while and you have.. no idea who it belongs to. The tupperware is lined in pink so you have to assume it's Maya's but she doesn't often forget things in store. You’ll have to ask her about it next time you see her. [[LOOK BEHIND STORAGE SHELF]] [[LOOK AT PREP STATION]] [["I'm done looking around"]]

The prep station is where you prepare sandwiches, smoothies, and other misc. food items for customers. This is also where the house-made syrups are made. It's a two tiered metal table, the shelf below housing ingredients that don't need to be refrigerated along with a heavy leather book containing every single recipe the store has ever used. Ever. It looks ancient, shockingly so, but the recipes inside are incredibly mundane. You could tell anyone it was a witches' tome and they'd easily believe you. Each recipe is signed by //Madame Lafayette// at the bottom of the page. Madame Lafayette, as you know, is the owner of Purveyor’s Brew and an incredibly lovely lady. (if:$Alma is "true")[You haven’t seen her once after you were hired.] [[LOOK IN FRIDGE]] [[LOOK BEHIND STORAGE SHELF]] [["I'm done looking around"]]

Behind the storage shelf there is a little space where the safe resides. Beside it is the main storage shelf, filled with old store memorabilia - old pastry stands, old broken blenders, etc. On the wall atop the safe these are a few old posters and photos. PHOTO OF THE CORNER + OLD PB CREW (if:$Alma is "true")[You wonder where all the baristas who worked here before you are now. Do they miss being here?] Here, there are a number of small holes along the wall, mainly near the bottom. You've never figured out what caused these wholes nor do you know what's inside them. They've never caused issues before. (if:$Seth is "true")[You try not to look into this corner often.] [[LOOK IN FRIDGE]] [[LOOK AT PREP STATION]] [["I'm done looking around"]]

The moment you enter the back room you feel a sudden shift in the air. It’s cold, much colder than the front, and the air feels… thick. It’s rich with salt from the ocean outside, it’s odor only rivaled by the smell of fresh coffee. You struggle to inhale and your brows furrow. Stunned, you stop and look around a moment. Nothing looks different at all. It only *feels* different. (if:$Seth is "true")[You hear dripping coming from somewhere in the room - you can’t exactly pinpoint where. The sound grates on your ears and it’s suddenly all you pay attention to. A splash echoes in your mind, then another. Waves haunt you as you stand, silent, staring as dread washes over you. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot a shadow, but the moment your gaze moves to chase it- it vanishes. You clench your jaw and narrow your eyes at the empty room.] (if:$Alma is "true")[There is a sudden wet *squish* noise that startles you. You crinkle your nose, disgusted by the sound. Another squelch is heard, this time at the opposite corner. It sounds exactly like.. an octopus thrown onto a wood floor. You don’t know why that’s the first image that comes to mind but.. it is, and you don’t push it away. You are by the ocean, after all. For a brief moment, you push aside your discomfort to imagine a small octopus fighting it’s way into the store’s wooden walls, seeking shelter. It makes you feel bad. You don’t know why, but you relate to this imaginary octopus in some way. But you do, eventually, shake the thought out of your head, grimacing as you still feel terribly uneasy.] Are you stressed, too? Is this a psychosomatic symptom of being on your feet, serving and speaking to customers all morning? Of course not. You do that all day, every day. This shouldn’t be the issue. It’s not even a busy day. Yet, the feeling persists. You look over everything one last time before taking a few steps to the fridge. You came here to get milk and milk you will get. Once you get back to work your mind will clear back up, you’re sure of it. Opening the fridge reveals it to be empty. [[Completely empty.]]

Before you even realize it, it's mid-afternoon and the shift is nearly over. The stream of customers slows to a trickle, then only an occasional drop, meaning only one barista really needs to be at the front at this point. With (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth] taking care of the front, you begin cleaning and gearing up to close the store, pushing the strange fridge incident out of your mind as best as you can. You still feel off but you’re able to ignore it now that you’re busy. Deciding to attribute the incident to a lack of a break, you press on. When it comes to closing, there's not much that needs to be done. Of course, there's the expected sanitizing, sweeping, and washing, but also restocking for the next morning. Luckily, the store is pretty small, so cleaning up takes about an hour at most. Usually you like to split the tasks between the front of house and the back, letting one barista take care of all the tasks on each side of the store. With (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth] already at the front, you take care of the back. This mainly means doing dishes and pre-prepping pastries that need to be baked in the morning. Easy stuff. [[You get to work.]]

You do your best to ignore the still present discomfort sitting in your throat as you work. You wipe down the table, wipe down the fridge, and the outside of the oven. Done. You count and prep a few pastries and, next, you move to begin washing the many dishes the store has accumulated over the course of the day. But before you can even start you hear the sound of jingling keys followed by a door being unlocked. You pause and glance over your shoulder. The back door in the back room; It’s wooden with a little glass window, offering a view of the long stretch of sand north of the store. Right now, however, you’re only seeing Enzo’s face just as he opens said door. (ART OF ENZO HERE) Manager number 2 arriving on the scene. He flashes you a grin as he leans against the doorframe, his head nodding once back toward the outside. He’s dressed casually: Black jeans, open black floral button-up, several gold necklaces decorating his neck. (if:$Alma is "true")[You refuse to admit he’s hot but, well, if he wasn’t your *boss*…] (if:$Seth is "true")[He’s not in fucking uniform.] “Heeyyy, give me a hand real quick?” His voice interrupts your thoughts. (if:$Alma is "true")["I brought some stuff for the store."] “Yeah- one sec.” [[WIPE YOUR HANDS AND HELP ENZO.]]

(if:$Seth is "true") [Carefully, you approach, and the closer you get the louder the breathing - slow, raspy breathing. You’re so afraid you hardly think. Your blood runs cold and your extremities feel numb. You have never felt so alone. You’re now standing in the area between the cup storage and milk storage, facing the safe. This is where the breathing is at it's loudest. Yet, there still doesn't seem to be an obvious source. It quickens into a pant now, growing more and more desperate the longer you stand there. It occurs to you now that, maybe, this is your own breathing you’re hearing. You are, in fact, taking quick, shallow breaths. But, you get on your knees and look at every corner you possibly can, coming up empty. It can’t be your own breathing- there has to be something wrong here. Something- something amiss. This is not normal but you *not* crazy. You continue looking, moving boxes, pushing bottles away, peering every which way. Until your gaze finds the holes in the wall. By the floor, behind the safe, there are several cracks and holes in the wooden walls. You stare wide-eyed into the pitch black darkness within and focus on the sounds; Rapid, panicked breathing. It won’t stop. It *will not* stop. Why won’t it *stop*? The sound of your heartbeat joins in on the melody of breaths and you feel yourself spiraling. The world spins. The waves crash. You are alive. //"Seth-?"// [[The breathing stops.]]] (if:$Alma is "true")[On the floor there is a large puddle indeed: Goo, black and red, swirling in on itself like a living, breathing, creature. Glancing up revealed there was a hole on the ceiling, small and pitch black like the many holes lining the wall in front of you. More goo seems to be dripping from above. Some threatens to land on your head, so you step back. //This better not be sewage//, you think to yourself. Still, for some odd reason, you cannot bring yourself to be disgusted by it. You stare down at the puddle, curious. It inches toward your feet and you lower yourself to the floor. Without thinking, you reach a hand out and notice it recoil in response. It’s frightened? You close your eyes and your head feels light. The world spins and the floor threatens to cave in beneath you. A cold sensation rises from your feet but your chest feels warm. Actually, so does your face. Your face is warm… and wet. You’re not afraid. You feel found. //"Alma?"// [[You wipe your nose]]]

Stillness hits you like a truck. Sounds return and the fog lifts from your mind. Reality sets back in. Slowly, you turn your head to see Almalexia standing behind you. She has her arms wrapped around herself, her mouth in a soft frown as she looks you over. Her cheeks are a tad rosy as well; She’s embarrassed *for* you. You are hunched over on the floor, breathing heavily in the storage area. It’s at least a little embarrassing. "//Are you ok-? Did something happen?"// She seemed truly worried. Slowly, you stood, still a bit dizzy from.. whatever had just happened. You offer a nod in response but your gaze doesn’t meet hers. You are, admittedly, embarrassed. //"Yeah. I thought I lost something. Sorry."// [[FINISH CLOSING]]

You blink as you hear Seth's voice behind you. Slowly, you turn your head and, as you do, you feel a warm trickle down your nose and lips. You wipe your nose again and find you're bleeding. "I-" you begin but stop yourself, realizing it's easier to show than to explain. Turning back to the puddle and the drip from the ceiling, you're astonished to find it's completely gone. Instead, all you find is a few mere drips of blood from your own nose. It’s the fucking fridge all over again. Too stunned to speak, you sit there, staring, until you feel Seth's cold hand on your shoulder. You whip your head around to face him only to see him offering you a paper towel, small frown etched on his features. You choke out a small //thank you// before standing and cleaning yourself up. [[FINISH CLOSING]]

The sun is setting when you two finally finish closing. It’s late. Normally, you’d be out at least an hour sooner. You have no idea what happened. Regardless, you’re glad to be done for the day. Together, you exit the store with all your belongings through the front and you lock the door behind you. Silently, the two of you stare into the store. With the lights off, Purveyor’s Brew looks peaceful. Calm. Very unlike how it had been throughout the day. Neither of you want to leave just yet but no one wants to be the one to speak first either. (if:$Alma is "true")[//"Sorry for-"// you start but Seth stops you //"Don't. It's ok. You should rest up tonight,"// he assures. You don't feel particularly comforted, however, feeling that Seth's kind words usually came from a place of pity rather than care. Trying not to take it to heart you look out into the ocean and find that the view calms you. It reassures you tomorrow is a new day. //"See you, then. Uh- have a good rest of your day,"// you offer Seth a polite smile before heading down the stairs. //"You too."// You walk through the sandy beach toward the boardwalk when you pause to glance back at the store. Seth remained there, standing by the stores front door. You squint and watch a while but he does nothing. With a sigh, you walk off.] (if:$Seth is "true")[//"Seth, can I say-"// you heard Alma begin but you raise your hand to stop her. //"Alma, it's ok. You don't need to worry about me,"// She seems frustrated by this and you can tell there's plenty she wants to say. You'd prefer if she kept it to herself. You're fine. //"Have a good rest of your day, Alma,"// you add after a brief silence. She frowns but nods. //"You too."// And with that, she walks off, leaving you alone by the front of the store. Though you also wish to leave, there's something that catches your eye through the window. In the dark, you see a man standing at the doorway separating the back of house with the front. He stares at you and you stare back. He's shrouded in darkness but you know all too well who it is. After being sure Almalexia was gone, you head back inside.]

You shimmy your way toward the bathroom, wincing at the icy tile beneath your feet. Quickly, you make yourself look presentable: You brush your teeth, brush your hair, and get dressed. It's Monday, of course, and your shift starts in about an hour. You needn’t hurry but it’d be prudent to arrive on time. Amidst sand and sea, the //Purveyor’s Brew// coffee shop has stood tall for decades, serving the best coffee to beachgoing tourists and Amespark residents alike. In its heyday, lines could be seen stretching out the doors, down its wooden stairs, and extending off into the sandy beach. You’ve never seen it that busy in the time you’ve worked there but you believe the stories. Or, at least you try to. Before you leave, you look yourself in the mirror one last time. [[WHO ARE YOU?]]

<img src="https://64.media.tumblr.com/7f06693db2710ec808d6aadc1cbe1fa8/970da7df3c41497a-c0/s2048x3072/918c4f44743a01fd2e73a51a5eb75c5dd47ba5ec.pnj"> (if:$Seth is "true")[You hear Alma's voice greet you as you enter the backroom. You greet her in kind, both your voices quiet as it was abundantly clear neither of you were actually fully awake yet. There’s a small part of you wishing to make note of her early attendance but your voice dies in your throat before it even has a chance of escaping. You don’t wish to shame her or invade her privacy as to *why*, of all days, she was on time today. Like always, you choose to mind you own business. Alma doesn’t seem to mind - she is silently working away at stirring a new batch of what seems to be egg wash for the croissants. Briefly, you take stock of what she’s already done: She’s set out the pastries to be baked, began pre-heating the oven, and was working away at that egg wash. That leaves the front of house responsibilities to you: Dialing in the coffee, refilling the hopper, the cups- etc.] (if:$Alma is "true")[You greet Seth softly as you enter the back room and he responds in kind, offering a little nod along with his quiet greeting. Quickly, you set your bag aside in the designated bag rack by the storage and get to work. You worry briefly if he’ll say anything about you being late- though, you’re sure you’re not, for once. Shyly, you scan his face as he sets up a tray of pre-rolled croissant dough to be baked. His expression is stoic but not angry, serious but not pensive. He looked truly neutral as his gloved hands focused on laying out the pre-rolled croissants an appropriate distance from one another. He was.. distant, maybe, his gaze aloof to what was in front of it. He must have something on his mind. You only realize you’re staring when he glances sidelong at you from the corners of his eye. You nearly jump but he says nothing - he continues working and you flee to the front of the store where you take it upon yourself to actually get to work.] Quietly, you two share the responsibilities of opening up the store. It’s actually become quite a pleasant morning, the only sounds keeping you company being the soft crashing of waves outside and the occasional pestering seagull above. Soon, you two finish - ahead of schedule, too. You have about fifteen minutes before the store opens and you've got nothing left to really do. (if:$Seth is "true")[This isn't surprising to you, as despite her habits of being late, Almalexia is an incredibly efficient worker. You're quite fond of her in that sense, seeing as you're quite alike. Quiet, misunderstood, but efficient.] (if:$Alma is "true")[This isn't surprising to you as Seth is really efficient in getting things done and quickly. You respect him a lot for how much hard work he does for the store, even if he does often weird you out.] With your remaining fifteen minutes, you decide to do one of two things: (if:$Seth is "true")[ [[CHAT WITH ALMA BEFORE OPENING]] [[LOOK AROUND STORE]] ] (if:$Alma is "true")[ [[CHAT WITH SETH BEFORE OPENING]] [[LOOK AROUND STORE]]]

Ouch. The very thing you avoided saying earlier returns to haunt you now. You hardly even realize you’ve said it until the words left your lips. It is her turn, once again, to look at you in surprise. Then, disappointment. “Lucky day? I dunno… I didn’t mean to get here on time,” She quietly replies, a pout forming on her lips, “Not that I usually *mean* to get here late either. I just- I get here when I can. Sorry.” She falls silent and you struggle to find words. Then, she adds, barely above a whisper: “Its hard to get out of bed some mornings. That’s all.” A knife to the chest. You feel like a horrible person. Next time, maybe you ought to commit to *actually* minding your own business like you say you like to. [["If.. there's something you want to talk about.."]]

Your drifting gaze snaps back to him. He’s slightly turned towards you now, neutral expression directed right at your surprised one. What did *you* do this weekend? Somehow, you’ve forgotten and you admit this with a bashful laugh. “Nothing..?” “Nothing?” He echoes, a brow raising ever so slightly. You feel your cheeks redden. You’re sure you did something over the weekend but- would it really be something interesting enough to share? You realize now maybe you should’ve been ready to answer the question before you had directed it at Seth. ”I dunno, just.. kind of lazed around? Read some books, slept-” Both incredibly rewarding and productive activities. Seth’s eyebrow slowly lowers and you feel his attention drifting away from you. Your opportunity for any kind of interesting conversation with him is vanishing before your very eyes. [[Quick, get his attention back.]]

"I started reading a new book.” The words shoot out of your mouth, sounding painfully desperate. Slowly, he returns to you, both brows raised this time. “I think you might like it. It's about a kid that goes missing in a cave. Everyone's looking for him but turns out the cave was connected to like- a series of tunnels that led him to the middle of the ocean, on an island. It's kind of like.. Alice in Wonderland meets Lost." Your not sure why you shared the synopsis unprompted, but you did, and now it’s too late to take it back. You really hope he doesn’t think you’re being too pushy here. Or annoying - being annoying would feel worse than being pushy. You’d just really like to be his friend. Seth’s response takes a moment to come. It’s a relief that he doesn’t look bothered by your constant chatter. If he is annoyed, he’s doing a good job of hiding it. //"Maybe I'll borrow it off you sometime."// Is that a smile you see? One so minute, so subtle, that you could easily miss it. //"Maybe,"// you reply, smiling a little more boldly than he ever could. [[ The first customer of the day walks in. ]]

Once the door is fully closed, you turn to (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth] with a furrowed brow. You wonder if you’re the only one who’s noticed this increase in customer stress levels. (if:$Alma is "true")[“Have you noticed that lately customers have been like- extra hurried and stressed? Like, across the board? And not just when we open, but like- the whole day-?” Seth, who is focused on wiping down the espresso machine, only hums. He doesn’t seem to share your curiosity and responds without looking back at you. “She was likely late for work. It happens.” Maybe more people have been getting late to work lately. Or, maybe, you’re overestimating the amount of stress you notice in your customer base. Either way, Seth isn’t interested in discussing it.] (if:$Seth is "true")[“Have you noticed that our customers have been in more of a hurry lately than normal?” You ask, then immediately feel stupid for asking. It’s not really a trend, you decide suddenly, you’re just- over-thinking something that hardly requires consideration. Alma turns to you, wiping her hands on her apron, her lips pursed with interest. “Hmm… I think? They always felt impatient to me, though.”] [[Well, that's done.]]

The morning continues on just as expected. The croissants finish baking and you move them to the front, more customers come in and you take orders while (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth] serves their drinks. Eventually, when there’s no more customers to take orders from and only a list of drinks to serve, you move over to help (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth] make drinks. You both clean as you go, keeping the store running smoothly. There is a steady stream of customers which leaves little room for you two to chat outside of drink making. *Did you need this shot? Yes, it’s for this latte I’m steaming milk for. Ok. Do you need cups? Iced cups? Are these croissants out? Could you add vanilla syrup to this shot for me? Etc.* With the way the bar is laid out, it is too long for two people to work at making drinks without crossing paths - and crossing paths is dangerous when working with hot liquids. Last thing you’d want is to turn around to serve a drink and, uh oh, the other barista was just crossing over to grab some ice! What a disaster. You’ve all learned to avoid this by simply asking the other person to get things on their side for you rather than walking around them. Easier in every way. As the morning drones on, the two of you work behind the bar like a dream, well-synergized and efficient. You actually really enjoy working with (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth], you realize. But it’s around noon when you noticed the good energy die down. Less customers come in and you both feel a little tired. There’s still a few orders to wrap up so you press on. Just as you go to steam up some milk for the next drink you notice the front refrigerator is out of whole milk. It seems you already blew through two gallons of the stuff. You let (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth] know you're heading to the back briefly and head over to get some more. [[But something is off.]]

(if:$Fridge is "true")[Of course, that's not right, you're certain it had at least a few more milk gallons and plenty of other food items inside. You just checked it earlier! There's no way all those things just.. disappeared. You stand there, speechless, staring into the empty refrigerator when you hear (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma's] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth's] voice calling you from the doorway. //"Everything ok? I need that milk still-"// You look over with a frown, then gesture vaguely to the fridge. //"It’s empty,"//] (if:$Fridge is "false")[That can't be right. There's always at least *something* inside the fridge. You stand there, staring into the empty refrigerator when you hear (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma's] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth's] voice calling you from the doorway. //"Everything ok? I need that milk still-"// You look over with a frown, then gesture vaguely to the fridge. //"We're out,"//] (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma walks over to peer into the fridge at your side and raises a brow at you. The moment you look back into the fridge its fully stocked again. 4 milk gallons, syrup and sandwich ingredients, and leftover lunch - all back like they had never left. This is absolutely insane. The fridge was *just* empty. You’re at a complete and total loss for words. Looking to her, you open your mouth to speak, gesturing to the milks wildly as if you’re just dying to argue your case but you do not manage to find a good explanation to give. Silently, she grabs two gallons of whole milk and begins walking back to the front, shaking her head and muttering something about you needing a break as she went. You don’t need a break, you think to yourself, brows furrowed as you shut the refrigerator door. You do, however, feel like you just might need a therapist.] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth walks over to peer into the fridge at your side and raises a brow at you. The moment you look back into the fridge its fully stocked again. 4 milk gallons, syrup and sandwich ingredients, and leftover lunch - all back like they had never left. This is absolutely insane. The fridge was *just* empty. You’re at a complete and total loss for words. Looking to her, you open your mouth to speak, gesturing to the milks wildly. “I- I *swear* it was empty when I looked-” You begin, but he raises a hand to stop you from continuing. “It’s ok.” He says simply, then he grabs two gallons of whole milk. You search his face for judgement or annoyance but you find neither. You find nothing at all, in fact, his face is completely devoid of emotion or bias. Silently, he begins walking back to the front, leaving you alone to stand in your own confusion.] [[Weird.]]

As you step outside you wince at the sun, its warmth hitting you instantly. The inside is so dark that sometimes you forget the sun even exists. The back entrance of Purveyor’s Brew is similar to its front: It’s a wooden porch with no overhead cover, accessible only by the wooden staircase leading down into the sand. Sometimes, you enjoy sitting out here during your break. You take a moment to glance around but before you know it Enzo is already halfway down the stairs, not waiting on you to follow. Parked on the sand at the end of the steps is a golf cart, it’s back loaded with large plastic containers. (if:$Choc is "true")[Ah. The chocolate croissants. Pre-filled but still raw dough, ready to be backed tomorrow morning. He remembered.] You head down the steps carefully and stand by, ready to be handed a container or two to carry back up with you. (if:$Alma is "true")[He lifts two containers and turns to hand them to you before he falters, a wry smile crossing his features. “Can you carry two at once? Or you want just one?” He asks, withholding the containers from you. They’re large but not too heavy. You’ve carried them plenty of times so, you give him a *look*. “I’m not weak.” You want to call him a jerk for implying you were- but, you bite your tongue. You hold your hands out and he shrugs, plopping the two containers in your arms a little carelessly. They’re heavier than you remember but they’re absolutely not heavy enough to be an issue. You promptly turn and head upstairs, as you do you hear him follow. In no time at all, the pastries are inside, carefully placed on the table. Most are moved to the freezer while you begin prepping the rest for tomorrow. Enzo lingers by you with his hands on his hips, looking at the door that leads to the front of house. He smells of freshly smoked cigarettes and some kind of cheap cologne. “Seth’s out there?” He cranes his neck to see but doesn’t move from your side. “..yeah. With a customer, probably,” He stares at the door a moment longer before looking to you with a smirk. “Tell him I’m sorry for being late with the delivery?” You nod, “Sure.” “Cool.” Enzo gives you a quick good-bye and is out the door, locking it behind him.] (if:$Seth is "true")[You try not to mention the fact that he’s not in uniform. He doesn’t have to be: it is his day off. He didn’t have to bring the croissants in at all. He also didn’t have to be two days late to bring them in, but, well. Bygones be bygones. Still, you wouldn’t be so peeved if he did actually wear his uniform when *on-shift* too. He lifts two containers and turns to hand them to you before he falters, a wry smile crossing his features. “You’re mad I’m late with these, huh?” He says it like it’s a secret but his voice doesn’t hide his amusement well. He loves riling you up. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was days late on purpose. “I was planning to go to your house with a gun if you failed to deliver them today, yeah,” You reply, knowing your feigned anger would amuse him further. You’re right. His smile grows to a grin and you suppress the urge to smile too. “You still can,” He hands you the containers and turns to grab the rest, “You haven’t come over in like- what? Five centuries?” The pastry containers are heavy and you try not to wince as you hold them up. This is why Enzo does the delivering- not you. “Six,” You jokingly correct, though there is no indication of it being a joke in your tone. He snorts but says nothing. It is true that you and Enzo have not been as close as of late. You used to be attached at the hip, facing every challenge together no exceptions, but then he changed and so did you, like people tend to. Things are too different now. *He* is too different now. His eyes are always tired and red, dark bags underneath standing as proof of the lack of sleep he gets. His grin betrays him; It hides the wear and tear he puts his body through. Late nights, drinks, drugs - bad habits all around. He is always late for work, late for meetings, late to hang out, etc. He is too different now for you two to be friends. Silently, you head upstairs and hear him follow. In no time at all, the pastries are inside, carefully placed on the table. Some are moved to the freezer while you begin prepping the rest. Enzo gives you a quick good-bye and is out the door, locking it behind him. You regret not chatting more before he left.] [[Exhaustion overwhelms you.]]

A few minutes later, after all the pastries are ready for the following day, you stand in the dish pit, washing mug after mug in contemplation. You recall the fridge incident when, suddenly, you feel the shift in the air again. The dread that had never left you since then is accentuated and you grimace. Not again. Just as before, nothing looks different. However, just a moment ago, you could hear (if:$Seth is "true")[Alma] (if:$Alma is "true")[Seth] moving chairs and sweeping at the front, but now you can't hear a thing. You set the mug you were washing down and rinse your hands, then moving to stand in the middle of the room. There must be something causing this and you need to find what. (if:$Seth is "true")[You try to focus but can't quite pinpoint what you're feeling other than a stark silence and unnerving sensation that something had to have just changed. You feel your skin crawl as you suddenly hear someone take a deep breath. The sounds of dripping follow. Instinctively, you look to the sink you were just washing dishes but there is no flowing water to be seen. Waves crash outside and your heart stops. "Almalexia? Enzo?" You call out, not knowing what else to do. But you look around and find no one. You hear another breath and you freeze. It sounds like someone gasping for air right by your ear. The voice is hoarse and desperate and *familiar*. Your eyes narrow in the direction of the storage area. It doesn’t *sound* like it’s coming from there but- something draws your gaze. A shadow shifts unnaturally. Cracks and holes in the wooden wall blink at you. Your stomach churns and all you taste is the ocean. God, this is awful.] (if:$Alma is "true")[You can't quite pinpoint what you're feeling other than a stark silence and unnerving sensation that- something changed. You don't know what, you don't know why, but something's different. You feel as though someone is in the room with you. Obviously, there isn’t, you can’t *see* anyone and there definitely isn’t anywhere for someone to hide. Maybe someone’s out at the porch? Enzo, maybe? The sounds of squelching return as well and you cross your arms. Whatever prank this is.. it’s not funny. You walk around, peering at corners, looking down at the floor, even glancing out into the front of house. But there is no one there. No customers, no Seth. No one. Panic fills you. Just as you’re able to head out there you hear a loud wet slap - something heavy landing on the floor behind you. Your head whips around and you notice something stuck on the ceiling, all the way in the corner by the back door. Narrowing your eyes, you see it is some kind of- goo? A black tar? No- it’s.. red? You blink and the substance falls to the floor with another *squelch*. Without thinking, you run toward that corner of the room, eager to find whatever the hell it is.] [[INVESTIGATE]]