Sabrina's POV

What a f*cking a**hole.

I've always wondered why men think they can treat women as if they're housewives from the nineteen fifties, who only possess the ability to wait on their husbands' hand and foot. Last time I checked, I'm a woman in the twenty first century.

How did I manage to go back to a time where a man could speak to a woman with such little regard for our feelings? Is this a dream? Did I miraculously stumble upon a time machine while I was making coffee?

Nope. The man standing in front of me with a sh*t haircut and wrinkled blue suit thinks he can do whatever he wants because he has a penis.

“You're an idiot," He spits, slamming the paper coffee cup onto the counter in front of me. “How about you go back behind the machine and make me the right f*cking order!"

I force a smile, when in reality I want to feel my knuckles glide across his stupid face.

Grabbing a new cup from beside me, I write his previous order on the fresh paper. Maybe this man has never tasted coffee in his life because I made exactly what he asked for: a tall latte with almond milk and three sugars.

Who has that many sugars in their godd*mn coffee? One is enough, but three is excessive.

“Of course, Sir," I say, “I'll be a moment."

The man gives me a filthy look before turning away to answer his phone.

I roll my eyes, wanting to scream into my hands. This job drives me crazy every second of the day, but it's the only way I can afford to put myself through college. Dealing with a**holes like him is what puts food on the table and allows me to have electricity.

I can see my co-worker Daisy watching me from the opposite end of the countertop. She gives me a look that I interpret as “Are you okay?"

I shrug back, focusing on frothing the milk. If I continue to look at Daisy, there is a good chance I'll break down in tears. I can't let that man think he has any kind of effect on me.

I pour the milk into the cup and turn to face him. He's staring back at me with a sour look on his face. Does he have nothing better to do than be a dick?

I hand him the steamy cup, trying to mask a smile on my face. I would love nothing more than to spit in his drink or tell him what I'm really thinking to his face. I can't do any of that, though, or I'll lose my job.

The man snatches the drink from my hands and looks me up and down before leaving the store. There are only a few customers seated nearby, so thankfully no one was paying attention to the scene he caused.

I lean against the counter, covering my face with my hands and sigh heavily. I have been working here for almost seven years since I graduated high school. My parents were on my a** about finding a full-time job and saving for a home. They always said you can't succeed in life without those two things.

That isn't me, though. I chose to ignore their advice because I wanted to go to college and live life like any other eighteen-year-old would. The thought of having to work a nine to five job scared the sh*t out of me. Working in this café isn't any better, but at least I still have some freedom to do what I like.

Daisy approaches me and lays a soft hand on my back.

“Are you okay? That guy was so rude to you." Her voice is full of concern.

I nod my head, moving my hands to look at her.

“That isn't the first rude man I've had come in here," I point to the busy sidewalk of men and women rushing to their next destination, “I mean, look at where we work. Businessmen think they can walk all over people like us. I'm used to it at this point."

Daisy shakes her head, “You shouldn't put up with it, Sab."

I want to laugh at how naïve Daisy is. This is only her third shift, so she hasn't experienced the type of customers who will yell in your face and call you names. This is her first time seeing it, so she doesn't understand that in the hierarchy of business and wealth, we are well below these people and can be easily replaced in hospitality.

“One day," I smile, moving past her to grab my water bottle from beside the cake cabinet, “Maybe one day I'll be at the top with these people. But that's a long way into the future."

“What do you want to do in life?" Daisy questions.

I shrug, “I'm in my final year at college majoring in creative writing and communications. I'm not entirely sure what direction I want my life to head in, but I know I'm on the right path, even if I'm stuck here for a little longer."

Daisy giggles, the dimples in her cheeks deepening, “Being stuck here forever would be the worst. I'm sure you won't be here much longer."

I smile, looking past her to see a woman approaching the counter. I excuse myself and take the woman's order for a long black and a blueberry muffin.

I get to work right away, eager to distract myself from watching the clock tick away until closing time. Every time I watch the clock, it always feels like time is moving slower, teasing me with the prospect of being able to clock out and go home.

I've learnt the hard way to not watch the clock. Rookie mistake.

I fill the paper cup to the brim with boiling hot water and swiftly grab the paper bag with the muffin in it. I spot the woman's red hair outside the store's front door.

My feet glide across the floor and because my hands are full, I use my back to push the door open. As I'm turning around, I bump into what feels like a brick wall.

I release a squeal; the coffee in my hand leaves the cup. It feels like I'm in a movie watching everything around me move in slow motion. I raise a hand to try and catch the liquid, as if that's going to help.

For a moment, I catch a glimpse of the most beautiful green eyes before I see dark liquid splat onto a handsome man's expensive suit.