Bitchy Brewery
Prologue:
“Order ready for Malenia!”
The aroma of magic permeates the air as the hustle and bustle of fae pass by the counter. The cafe is well into the work day as they call out once again in a teasing yet frustrated voice, “I said, order ready for Malenia!”
A tall redheaded faerie in golden jewelry finally approaches and grabs their coffee after another minute, not without a final scowl from their aasimar barista. Walking back to the brewing station, Nerys reluctantly got to work on the next order. Gods, what was it with people and their complex orders? What does it even mean to have a latte with no foam? How ignorant are these people? It’s bad enough that the last order had like, three extra shots of espresso, and now they have to manage a latte with no foam somehow?
Virgil snorts loudly. “I swear to the stars, half of the people here are deaf.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Nerys grumbles, as they reluctantly prepare the materials for the insane coffee order. “Look at this asinine order I just got. No foam? What, do you want me to just put plain milk or some shit? That takes all the latte out of a latte! Nowadays brains seem to be a rare commodity…”
A couple of people waiting in line glare at the pair. The next customer warily approaches the counter, internally praying that they can avoid a conversation with either of the duo.
Much to their consolation, the only well-behaved employee of the shift finally steps up to the register and smiles. “Hello and welcome to Miran’s Morning Brew! What can we make for you today? Would you like to try our seasonal special?” Farrah, being the odd one out of the staff by actually having a sense of decency and propriety, knows about the habits of the cafe’s “disaster duo”. She tries to cover for them and their behavior as much as she can but alas, kind excuses can only help so much when the pair you're trying to help are complete assholes and make it everyone else’s problem.
The customer squints at the menu behind her. “Uhh, can I have uhhh, hold on, uhhhh-”
“Hurry the fuck up! You should’ve read the menu while you were standing in line dipshit,” Virgil shoots from over by the espresso machine. “People don’t wanna wait on your blind ass!”
Nerys, trying to maintain a somewhat elegant composure, struggles for their life to hold back giggling at the oh-so-clever quip their coworker decided to drop.
The customer blinks in slight shock before turning back to Farrah, who smiles awkwardly.
“Please excuse them, they’re both just having an… off day… Take your time with your order, no pressure!” says the cafe’s resident blessing from Mielikki. As the senile old fae finally puts in his order for a simple slice of banana bread and an oat milk mocha, Farrah quickly rings him up and gives him back his change.
“An off day? Please, you speak so poorly of us dear Farrah, we’re just being honest! Don’t people here usually say that that’s the best quality? Or am I mistaken, darling?” A coy smile creeps onto Nerys’ face as the satyr turns from the register to help out with the remaining orders.
“And I’m nothing if not honest,” Virgil adds, a wide, shit-eating grin spreading across their face.
“When will the both of you learn that this job kind of requires decent customer service? I can’t even begin to count how many times I’ve saved both of you from Miran’s wrath. Why, just yesterday I had to convince her to not cut your pay for your little salt shenanigans… again. I feel like your babysitter every time I’m on shift with you, let alone when you're together like today.”
Virgil tilts their head lazily, leaning on the counter. “Cut our pay to what, exactly? You’re talking like we’re not getting paid minimum wage already,” they snicker.
Whatever they were going to say next was cut off when the milk steamer screeches as Nerys finishes up the last of their order, the aasimar quickly and gracefully packages up the latte (with foam since they couldn’t be bothered to figure out what “no foam” meant) and two croissants in their eco-friendly packaging before taking it to the avian pick-up section of the cafe. As they find the bird with the matching order on their collar, they haphazardly toss the croissant bag without looking as to where the bag lands.
“Hey! Watch where you're tossing those things, will ya?” A tiny yet commanding voice comes from the miniature portion of the cafe meant for smaller races and species.
Roseabell, the cafe’s only pixie employee, huffs at Nerys, fruitlessly awaiting anything that could possibly be interpreted as an apology. The miniature brunette resides in the middle on the Miran’s Morning Brew staff likeability scale. Somewhat standoffish, and somewhat kind-spirited, she’s typically the one to stand up to the disaster duo and knock them back down to size. Despite her small stature, she is a threat to one’s eardrums if aggravated.
Nerys waves their hand dismissively. “Dear Roseabell, how many times must I explain it to you? You are small. Therefore, more challenging to see and keep an eye on, especially when you're flying around and not confined to one area. So please, cut us regular-sized beings some slack when we’re tired after another arduous day of being prisoners to magic capitalism and being forced to work, much less serve the masses.” The air quotes around the last phrase are audible in the dramatic sigh of their voice.
“Oh please, you’d be glad to get rid of me,” Roseabell huffs. “I’m the only one here with the guts to tell off you and your little partner-from-hell over there.”
Virgil flutters their lashes innocently, but the way their tail swishes behind them promises mischief.
Rolling her eyes, Roseabell continues, “Gods above know I’d love to actually be able to experience peace at work for once.” Reaching a break in her workload, she flits up to their eye level. The smaller section of the cafe usually ran a lot less busy than the rest of the building.
Without acknowledging her, the aasimar double-checks the dove and its cargo before releasing it out the window back to the customer who had the comfort and the money to order from home. Oh, how they envied those who could afford to pay for such a service regularly. Making ends meet at the time was more of a struggle than they would ever let anyone aside from Virgil know. Rent for their relatively shitty apartment was creeping up on them and they loathed being behind on payments and the concept of owing people made a cold shiver run down their spine. Mr. Sylvan was quite the penny pincher when it came to rent too, always trying to extort them and overpricing everything. It’s all thanks to their silver tongue and habit of being petty to another degree that kept their rent hundreds below what the gnome tried to get out of them. Granted, that hundred was well within the normal rent rate for their little area.
The rest of the day went without much difficulty. The disaster duo causing their usual amount of mayhem and Farrah having to deal with the repercussions of their combined lack of behavior. Luckily Nerys and Virgil didn’t have the night shift, so they left and started their commute back home.
“I don’t know about you but I am not making dinner after that abysmal shift…” Nerys whined.
“Me neither, I’ve been making dinner for the past couple of days now, so I refuse to make anymore. I’m probably gonna order take-out from the nearby sushi place for myself. Unless you want to hunt and scavenge the fridge I suggest you do the same if you don’t want to starve tonight.” Virgil teased.
Nerys threw their head back in a fake tantrum, “Ugh, you’re such a bitch. Oh, but that woman over there is even more of a bitch if she decided to wear that out. Stripes in this day and age? And with jeans no less? Please, it looks so last decade that I want to rip my eyes out. Doesn’t anyone care about their appearance? I swear it’s like I’m the only one with a proper eye for fashion around these parts.”
Virgil took an interest in the horrid fashion choices of the public and turned their eye to the other side of the street, eager to indulge in one of their favorite pastimes—being petty and judging people. “Those glasses aren’t helping her case either, completely unflattering on her face shape. I would have gone with a pair of pleated pants and loafers and that’s if I was either rushed or lazy. Alas, what can you do.” They shrugged. “It’s not her fault some people are simply blessed with a perfect face and figure and an impeccable sense of style… a.k.a, me.” They gestured airily to their face, a smug expression gracing it.
Nerys scoffs in utter disbelief, “Oh please, we all know that my face is the one on the cover of numerous high fashion magazines. You couldn’t even model if you wanted to. Even if you did, I’m not helping no matter how much you begged and pleaded on your knees where you belong.”
“Oh dear me! Whatever shall I do?” They dramatically press the back of their hand to their forehead before a sly look overtakes their face. “I’m most definitely not the one who got kicked out, and was forced to fumble around figuring out how the middle class survives in today’s day and age!” They place their hands on their cheeks with a theatrical ‘shocked’ expression. “Stars! It's almost like the silver spoon had been ripped right out of my slutty little mouth and taken away… along with the platter of upper-class privilege that my maids, nannies and butlers used to serve me every moment of every day!” Virgil lamented in the most mocking tone they could muster. They raised an eyebrow. “Oh wait… that was you.” Despite their sharp words, the snicker that followed somehow ended up landing closer to teasing than malicious.
“Oh you wish you could experience what this mouth can do, love~” Nerys said with a look of wickedness in their eyes.
A silence overtook them. For a moment, they both stood staring at each other, tensely waiting for the other's reaction. Then, both of them burst out laughing, Nerys’s light cackle mixing with Virgil’s snorting giggles. After a minute, the laughter faded off, leaving both of them standing there out of breath with grins on their faces. As they continued down the sidewalk, the city started to come alive with twinkling, warm light. The silhouettes of towering office buildings were visible through the autumn mist. Faint, hazy illusions promoting their products and services glowed through the fog. The sidewalk was lined with quaint homes of carved wood, weathered brick, and cobblestone. As the pair approached their little apartment building, Nerys stared at it. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to provide what they needed. It was cozy, and most importantly—alive. Nerys’s eyes darted away from the building as they briefly glanced at their companion who was making some silly comment or another, a bright smile on their face. Maybe this would work out after all.
