My alarm went off at 6:30 a.m., and I swear I almost cried.
I was still so tired. But that's nothing new. I'm always tired.
I laid there for a bit, staring at the ceiling like I had time to waste. I didn't. But for a few seconds, I let myself pretend that I could just stay in bed all day. Even if I knew I couldn't.
Then I forced myself up. Took a quick shower. Brushed my teeth. Dragged on some clothes. Just a simple white blouse and black pants. I didn't have the energy to dress cute today. I never do any day either.
I live with my mom in a small apartment above her café, right in the middle of Los Angeles. It's nothing fancy, but it's home. You can hear the street noise in the mornings—cars honking, people yelling, dogs barking. The kind of noise that reminds you you're alive. The good part? I only have to go downstairs to get breakfast.
When I walked into the café, the smell of fresh coffee and pastries hit me in the face. That smell always makes me feel a little better, no matter how tired I am.
"Look who finally came down," my mom said from behind the counter, shaking her head at me.
Her afro was tied up in a flower patterned scarf, and she had her favorite pink apron on that said Mama C's Café in big letters. The place was already half full with regulars—people tapping away at laptops, couples sharing breakfast, someone reading the paper like it was still 1998.
"I'm not that late," I said, already reaching for a to-go cup of coffee.
"You always say that every morning, but still run late, Cassie."
"I'm consistent at least."
She gave me that look—the one that said girl, don't try me—then handed me a waffle wrapped in a napkin.
"You better eat. That coffee ain't gonna hold you 'til lunch."
"Thanks, Mama."
"Text me when you get to work."
"I always do."
I stepped outside, holding my waffle in one hand and my bag in the other. The morning sun was already out, warming the sidewalks. People were rushing by in their suits and sneakers, all trying to beat L.A. traffic or catch the next bus. I walked to the bus stop at the end of the street and stood there quietly, just chewing my waffle and thinking about how nice it would be to go back to bed.
And then I saw him.
A black car pulled up at the red light across the street. Sleek. Expensive. Shiny like it was freshly washed. I wouldn't have looked twice if I didn't recognize the guy behind the wheel.
Jason.
He looked exactly how I remembered him. Dirty blonde hair, sharp jaw, serious expression like he had a million things to do and not enough time. He wore a black suit that probably cost more than my rent. Even his sunglasses looked expensive.
We made eye contact.
My heart did this weird little jump. I didn't even know why.
But before I could react, he turned his head away. Just like that. No smile. No nod. Nothing.
He looked right past me like I wasn't even there.
That was weird.
Jason and I were never close. In fact, we weren't even friends. But he was never that cold. He used to tease me a lot—make comments about my hair, the way I talked, or the things I wore. He always had something smart to say. He was annoying, rude, and a little full of himself. But this—this straight-up ignoring me like a stranger—was a new kind of cold.
And for some reason… it stung a little.
Not that I cared. At least, I told myself I didn't.
The light turned green. His car drove off like I was never even there.
After his car left, my bus arrived. With little hesitation, I stepped in.
During the bus ride, I thought a little about him but dismissed it quickly. Jason was a jerk anyway, so why should I be concerned if he ignored me or not? That was probably the nicest thing he had done, because Jason was a pain in the ass. Most of the times we met, he was very mean to me anyways.
I turned my face to the window and tried to stop overthinking. I had better things to focus on.
After a while, my bus got to my stop.
There was my company—Glow & Grace Skincare. It stood tall on the block, all glass and clean white walls. From the outside, it looked like the kind of place that only hired perfect people with perfect lives. But inside, it was just like any other job—busy, stressful, and full of people pretending they had it all together.
I got to the office, and it was busier than usual. The sound of heels clacking, phones ringing, printers buzzing. The air felt tense, like everyone was on edge.
The chairman's grandson was to assume the position of CEO today, so everyone was talking about it. Some were gossiping about it being nepotism and so on. I didn't care about mere gossip. I already have a lot on my plate. A lot of bills and so on.
I'm trying my best to survive.
I know my mom is proud of me. And also… I hope my dad is too.