Sweet Nothing

I - Give Me My Coffee

Anntonia sat in the dimly lit dressing room, her exhaustion palpable as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. The transatlantic flight had been a grueling affair, the recycled air and cramped seat offering little respite. Yet, here she was, the ever-present expectation weighing heavily on her.

Her phone buzzed, interrupting her rare moment of solitude, and she sighed as she read the message from her boyfriend, Irfan.

Irfan: Hey babe, just landed! Looking forward to seeing you later tonight. ‍‍‍The gang is also excited to see you.

As if the idea of partying with his football team sounded more appealing than a quiet, peaceful night.

Anntonia: We just saw them last month. :c

Irfan: Sorry babe, I know it's not ideal, but they really want to see you. Plus, I miss you. Can't wait to spend the night together.

A knock on the door stirred her from her internal battle. Her assistant, Nicha, peeked in, a nervous smile plastered on her face.

"Just a heads-up, darling," Nicha chirped, "the interview's running a bit behind, but they're ready for you whenever you are."

Anntonia sighed, the weariness etched onto her porcelain skin. "Alright, Nicha. Let's get this over with."

The interview was a farce. Supposedly focused on her latest "Little Steps" advocacy campaign, it devolved into a relentless barrage about her relationship with Irfan. Each question, a thinly veiled probe into their engagement rumors, chipped away at Anntonia's already frayed patience. By the end, the practiced smile felt heavy on her face, a mask barely concealing the simmering frustration within.

Escaping the suffocating confines of the studio, she stepped into the cool night air, the city lights twinkling like distant stars. She went inside her car still dreading her day.

"You ready to go ma'am?" her driver asked.

But before she could give an answer, the driver stepped out of the car to answer a phone call. Anntonia didn't know what crossed her mind but she climbed out from the backseat of her red Jaguar F-Type and into the driver's seat.

She drove away as fast as she could, ignoring the surprised yelling of her poor driver. She was determined to find solace. As she weaved through the labyrinthine streets, the city lights blurring into streaks of neon, a rebellion sparked within her.

The city eventually gave way to rolling hills, the air tinged with the sweet scent of wildflowers. An unfamiliar route, taken on a whim, led her to a small café perched precariously on the edge of a cliff.

Taking a deep breath, she inhaled the mingled aromas of fresh coffee and woodsmoke, scents as foreign to her as they were enticing. Stepping out of her car, she pushed open the café door, the rusty hinges protesting with a gentle creak that contrasted sharply with the city's relentless cacophony. The sound of a bell, more like a friendly chime than a jarring ring, announced her arrival.

"Lost your way, princess?"  an enigmatic barista, dressed in an entirely sleek black attire said.

Anntonia's practiced smile faltered for a moment, a flicker of surprise crossing her features before she schooled her expression into a neutral one. "Actually, I was just looking for a place to-"

"Seeking refuge in caffeine I presume?" dark orbs stared into her.

Anntonia felt a flush creeping up her neck. The woman's words, delivered with a casual confidence that bordered on arrogance, were unexpected, a stark contrast to the fawning she was so accustomed to. She opened her mouth to retort, then thought better of it.

"Just... coffee, please," she said, her voice betraying a hint of steel. "Black."

The woman chuckled. "Sure thing, but let me guess, you want it extra hot to match your temper?"

Anntonia frowned growing a bit irritated "Excuse me?"

"Seems like you could use some decaf instead," the woman leaned in closer, their eyes locking in a battle of wills.

The model narrowed her eyes, "I don't appreciate your attitude. Just make my coffee, please."

"Oh, I'll make it alright. But you should learn to lighten up a bit, princess," the woman continued to push her.

Anntonia clenched her fists, fighting the urge to retaliate "I'm not a princess, and I don't have time for this nonsense. Just.Give.Me.My.Coffee."

The short-haired woman raised an eyebrow, a challenge gleaming in her eyes "Fine. But don't blame me if it's not up to your royal standards."

The model huffed in frustration, turning away as she waited for her order.