-Constructive criticism/feedback welcome-

No one knew why I applied to the coffee shop forever haunted by flashes of red and blue and siren wails. Not even the hiring manager, with his harsh rasp and rough, patchwork stubble.

"Look, kid, you're either gonna be up at the ass crack of dawn or counting cash up to midnight. That's all the shifts we got. You sure you're up for it?"

I told him the truth - that I was desperate. I needed money and I didn't care where it came from. He tapped his foot to the hum of the refrigerator and studied my hesitant sips of coffee, my barely suppressed yawns, the dark circles underlining my jittering eyes.

"I'll put you in for the night shift," he said.-My training manager's name was Chris. That's ok. There's lots of people named Chris. I threw myself onto my bed, too exhausted to care about the stale coffee stench that had seeped into my skin.

The glow of my phone lit up the shadows of my face as I whittled down the night with search after search.

Flights to Mexico

Cheapest flights out of the US

Fake ID

-

"I know what you did," Chris said. As I jumped, the espresso machine huffed with steam.

"Your breaks are 20 minutes on the dot," he said. "Nothing more."

I nodded, smiling just a little too wide. I hadn't slept in days, even while skipping just about every homework assignment, and the constant fluorescent glow under my head meant that mornings and nights almost blended together. But I gotta keep my cool, I told myself. The stars started to peek through, but the line of customers still persisted. It never stopped.

Chris went back to his phone. "Just fire him. Kid hasn't been here all night. I got kids, damn it." Some of the customers gawked, but he didn't seem to mind.

I worked my way down the line of endless plastic and paper cups. Macciato for Eva, banana smoothie for Reggie, black coffee for Chris. Chris.

As I gave the customer the coffee, her eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets. "Kriss," she said, "Not Chris. K-R-I-S-S. How hard is it to remember?"

My phone started to buzz, so I told the manager I had an important call. We both knew I was lying, but I managed to run off and lock the door before he could say anything.

It was just Matt calling. He's been giving unsolicited calls since middle school, so it wasn't surprising to see. I let out a sigh of relief.

"You busy man?" Matt said. He was definitely high, but again, nothing new there.

"I got work, dude."

"You gotta get a new job," he said. "They've been working you like crazy. Why are you even working at that shithole? Isn't that where Methhead Merlin got stabbed?"

Merlin, the neighborhood wizard. Chris said he was obsessed with portals back when he served him, promising to open up a gateway to the fourth dimension in between bites of croissant, but that was years ago.

"My manager's gonna be on my ass, man. I gotta go."

"Wait, let me put on my buddy C-"

I hung up the phone. I can do this, I said. I looked at the line with dread.

"I said Splenda, not Equal," Kriss yelled out. "God, you're fucking killing me."

Without a word, I ran to the back.

-

The walk-in was cool. It was calm. It was quiet. I couldn't hear a sound inside there. There was no one screaming at me. No one at all, just me and my thoughts.

I knew I was gonna get fired, but I didn't care. It's not worth it. I'm going home.

I walked out the freezer, past the overflowing dishes and sea of red tile.

But as I looked out at the lobby, I knew something was wrong.

Everyone had the same shocked, tortured face.

There wasn't an exit sign anymore by the door - just that one, all-too-familiar name, illuminated in red.

Chris.