Why were we even created if all we do is suffer—if we're just meant to be treated like trash by our own fellow humans?
I stood there, drenched—not in rain, but in hot coffee. A latte, dripping down my uniform, soaking into my skin. It hadn't been spilled. It had been poured on me. Deliberately. The customer in front of me was still yelling, her face twisted with anger."Take a deep breath, Bella." I tried to steady myself. What's that saying again? Customers are what? Oh, right—customers are always right.
"I told you to add sugar! Is it so difficult? Are you trying to kill me?" she snapped."I'm sorry, ma'am. It was a mistake. I'll make another one right away," I said, keeping my voice calm."I don't want to hear your sorry! Where's your manager?" She scoffed, eyes narrowing. "I hate people who can't do their job. You're getting paid, aren't you? Then do it properly!"
All eyes in the coffee shop were on me.
The truth? I wasn't even the one who made the drink. I had asked Angel to do it, and I had a feeling she messed it up on purpose. I didn't know why she hated me so much, but today, she had succeeded in humiliating me."Don't just stand there!" The woman's voice cut through my thoughts. "Go get your manager. Girls like you need to be taught a lesson."
"He's not around right now, ma'am," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Mr. Patrick isn't here."
And honestly, I was glad he wasn't.
I didn't love this job, but I couldn't afford to lose it either. No matter how good of an employee you were, Mr. Patrick wouldn't think twice about firing you if it meant keeping a customer happy. He always said his customers were his gold—and we were expected to treat them that way.
"Ahhh!" she huffed in frustration. "I'll come back just to make sure you get fired." With that, she stormed off, leaving a heavy silence in her wake.
Pffft. I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding. My hands were still shaking, my uniform still soaked with coffee.
Today had already started off as a bad day—I just needed to be extra careful from here on out. I went inside to grab a mop—the floor was covered in black coffee, and any moment now, Mr. Patrick would be here. As I stepped behind the counter, I spotted Angel standing there, a smug smirk on her face. Beside her, Megan giggled like they had just shared some inside joke.
"You look pathetic," Angel sneered, her laughter blending with Megan's. I clenched my jaw. "You did it on purpose, didn't you? I specifically told you to add sugar."
"So?" She crossed her arms, tilting her head mockingly. "I'm human too, remember? I make mistakes." Then, with a dramatic eye-roll, she added, "But nice try shifting your incompetence onto me." I didn't want to argue with her. In fact, I had gotten used to her attitude by now.
Angel treated me like an enemy, but I knew the only grudge she held against me was that I had replaced her best friend, Ava. Angel, Ava, and Megan—the Three Musketeers, as they called themselves—had been inseparable. But Ava had been fired for constantly skipping work, and I was hired in her place. Ever since then, I was convinced they had vowed to make my life miserable.
Without waiting to hear anything else from them, I grabbed the mop and walked away.
I focused on cleaning up the mess, wiping away every trace of the spilled coffee as quickly as I could. Once the floor was spotless, I headed back inside to change out of my uniform, which was now completely soaked in coffee. After changing into a fresh uniform, I went back to work, greeting customers with a smile as if nothing had happened.
Top Tiers was always packed, a constant flow of people coming in and out. And honestly, I knew why—our coffee was the best you could find anywhere. The rich aroma filled the air, blending with the chatter of satisfied customers. No matter how hard the job got, at least I could take pride in that.
By 5 in the evening, the rush had died down. The shop wasn't as crowded as it had been in the morning, and for the first time all day, I finally had a chance to rest.
My feet ached from standing for hours without a break. I let out a sigh of relief as I sank into a chair, savoring the brief moment of comfort.
But just as I was about to relax, a loud noise startled me.
"Bella!"
I froze. I knew that voice.
Great. What is he doing here?
"Come out here, you shit hag!"
The loud, slurred voice sent a chill down my spine. I looked up just in time to see him storm into the shop, his movements unsteady. He grabbed a customer's coffee right off their table. The woman flinched in fear, her eyes wide as she shrank away from him.
Who is he? The question was written all over the faces of the onlookers.
But I knew exactly who he was.
Uncle Roberto. My aunt's husband.
My stomach twisted. What is he doing here?
Panic surged through me as I hurried toward him, desperate to keep things from getting worse."What are you doing here, Uncle Roberto?" I asked, my voice low but firm. He let out a laugh—loud, rough, and reeking of alcohol. His breath hit me before the words did. He was heavily drunk. "Ungrateful bitch," he slurred, his breath thick with alcohol. "You should be grateful you're living under my roof."
I gritted my teeth, trying to keep my composure. My patience was already running thin, and the weight of everyone's stares only made it worse."Skip to the point, Uncle Roberto," I said, frustration creeping into my voice. "You're creating a scene. What do you want?"
"A scene, huh?" he sneered.
Before I could react, he flipped a table over, sending a flower vase crashing to the ground. Glass shattered, the sharp sound cutting through the café. Gasps filled the room as customers shrank back in fear. My chest tightened. I could feel the sting of tears threatening to fall, but I refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of him.
"What do you want?" I asked, my voice breaking. "Money?"
Without hesitation, I reached into my uniform pocket, pulling out all the tips I had earned today. My hands trembled as I shoved the cash toward him.
"Take it and leave. Please."
He snatched the money from my grip, a smug smile stretching across his face.
"You're not so useless after all," he muttered, counting the bills. Then he scoffed. "But this isn't enough to pay for everything." Before I could respond, he gave me a hard slap on the shoulder, making me stumble slightly. Then, just like that, he turned and walked away, leaving behind a mess—both in the café and in my heart.
How could this day get any worse?
I turned to the shaken customers, forcing a reassuring smile. "I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. Please, calm down—he's gone now." Some still looked uneasy, but most returned to their drinks and conversations, though the atmosphere in the café had noticeably shifted.
With a sigh, I grabbed a broom and started sweeping, making sure to pick up every last shard of broken glass. Mr. Patrick would definitely notice the missing vase—and if he didn't, Angel and Megan would make sure he did.
As I walked toward the bin to dispose of the shattered vase, the last people I wanted to see appeared."That was quite the family drama, Bella," Angel said, her lips curling into a wicked smile.
"And putting customers at risk of getting hurt?" Megan chimed in, feigning concern. "Oh, I'm sure Mr. Patrick won't be pleased."
I rolled my eyes, tossing the broken vase into the bin with a sharp clunk.
"Why do people hate you so much?" Angel mused, tilting her head like she actually cared. I turned to face her."You know what? You should answer that yourself. Why do you hate me? Can you even come up with a real reason? I bet not."
Angel's smirk faltered for a second, but I didn't give her time to recover.
"Let me tell you what this is really about. You guys are just babies in grown women's bodies—throwing a tantrum because you can't get over the fact that Ava got fired for not doing her damn job. Three Musketeers, my foot. Wake up! This isn't some Barbie cartoon—it's a coffee shop."
With that, I turned on my heel and stormed off, anger boiling inside me. I went inside to change—it was the end of my shift anyway.
As I pulled off my uniform, I sighed. I had just gotten word that Mr. Patrick wouldn't be coming in today. Great. I had wanted to explain everything to him myself before Angel and Megan had the chance to twist the story in their favor.
Now, only God knew if I'd still have this job by tomorrow.
With that heavy thought weighing on me, I slipped into my black, worn-out coat and stepped outside. The cold air hit me instantly. I finally breathed in fresh air—something other than the constant scent of coffee that clung to me all day.
Closing my eyes, I let the cold seep into my skin, hoping it would wash away the weight of everything that had happened. I just wanted all the sadness, frustration, and humiliation to fade into the night.
But then, my phone rang, shattering the brief moment of peace.
I pulled it out of my bag, and the second my eyes landed on the caller ID, a smile broke across my face.
It was Scarlet—my best friend. "Hello," I said with a broad smile. "Guess what?" Scarlet's excited voice came through the phone. I rolled my eyes, already knowing where this was going. "How hot is he?" I asked, grinning.
"So freaking hot, Bella. I feel like I'm gonna die," she gushed dramatically. "But I won't—because I know you'd miss me too much."
"Very thoughtful of you," I said, rolling my eyes again."Careful," she teased. "One day, they're going to fall out." Damn it. She knew me too well. Scarlet and I have been best friends since we were 13. Despite our friendship, we couldn't be more different, and honestly, I still don't know how we've managed to stick together all these years.
Scarlet is the life of the party—the kind of person everyone wants to be around. She's outgoing, adventurous, and always looking for the next exciting thing. Me? I'm the complete opposite. I'd rather stay indoors with a good book than go out, and I avoid crowds whenever I can.
But somehow, we balance each other out. We've learned to make sacrifices for each other, meeting in the middle when it matters most. She's the only person who truly understands me—the one constant in my life. And of course, I can't forget James—my boyfriend.
Speaking of which, I should probably call him. I haven't heard from him all day.
I met James eight months ago at Scarlet's birthday party, and honestly, I'd say he's a godsend. Between him and Scarlet, they're the two people who make life a little more bearable. No matter how hard things get, they remind me that I'm not alone.
"Are you coming over?" Scarlet asked over the phone. I was about to answer when, out of nowhere, a man snatched my phone from my ear."Hey! Give that back!" I protested, reaching for it.
I finally took a good look at him—tattoos covered his arms, and standing beside him was an even larger man in a hood. My stomach twisted.
"Is she the one?" the huge man asked.
The guy holding my phone nodded. "Yeah. I saw her give him some money today." My heart sank. I didn't even need to ask who they were talking about. Of course, it was Uncle Roberto.
"Tell him to pay me back my money," the man sneered. "Then you can have your phone back." I clenched my fists, trying to stay calm. "He's going to pay you back. And I'll help him do it. But taking my phone won't change anything. This is the only way I get calls for work. If you want your money on time, I suggest you give it back."
I exhaled sharply. "But if you don't, then fine. Keep it. Just know that this phone isn't even worth what he owes you. Look at it." I watched their faces, praying they'd see reason.
"Give her back the phone," the huge man finally said. "But I'll be back if I don't see my money by the weekend— and trust me, you're not going to like the outcome."
The man holding my phone smirked before shoving it into my hand.
I swallowed hard, gripping it tightly as they turned and walked away.
But I knew the truth. This was just the beginning of another nightmare. They wouldn't go after Roberto—they'd come for me instead.