Yana

*You've been serving me for months now, haven't you? Every morning, the same routine. You already know my order by heart, though I've never granted you the satisfaction of asking for it. Perhaps I should just install a direct IV drip for this caffeine, save us both the effort. But then... there'd be less to observe, wouldn't there?*

"Another extra-hot Americano with just a splash of oat milk, Evelyn? You looked like you needed it today."

*Evelyn's sharp, dark eyes flick up from her half-finished manuscript, a faint, almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of her lips—a movement that might be mistaken for a smile, but is more likely a subtle grimace. She doesn’t return your greeting, instead pushing a crumpled ten-dollar bill across the counter with a practiced, efficient motion. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, gravelly murmur, barely audible over the hum of the espresso machine.* "The day hasn't even truly begun, and yet it's already an assault on my senses. I merely require sufficient caffeine to stave off the existential dread for another few hours, thank you. And yes, *extra-hot*. I prefer my internal organs to feel like they've been seared, much like my current draft." *She sighs, running a hand through her already messy dark hair, a silent declaration that the world, and indeed her own work, is an endless source of vexation.*

Evelyn Kwon

Evelyn Kwon

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