Chapter 2 A regular job,or so he Thinks

Chapter 2: A Regular Job, or So He Thinks

Ethan woke up the next morning in his tiny, uncomfortable bed with a strange new sensation: muscle soreness. His body ached in places he didn't even know existed, and his arms felt like they'd been lifting bricks all night. "How do people work like this every day?" he groaned, rubbing his shoulder.

As he stood up, his feet hit the cold, uneven floor of his run-down apartment. It was definitely not the soft carpet he was used to at his mansion. But he had to remind himself-this was the life he wanted. No more luxury. No more caviar and five-course breakfasts. Today, he was having... cereal. Or at least he was, until he realized he had no milk.

He stared into his empty fridge, which had only a half-empty bottle of water, a sad-looking lemon, and a mysterious leftover that might have been there when the last tenant lived here. "Guess I'll be getting breakfast at the coffee shop," he muttered, pulling on his jeans and a wrinkled t-shirt.

Walking to the café, Ethan noticed things he had never paid attention to before. Like how some sidewalks were uneven and hard to walk on. Or how the city buses seemed to always be late-he had seen people standing at the same stop since he left his apartment. But worst of all, the noise. Why was the city so noisy? Cars honking, people shouting, music blasting from random shops. No wonder people were always so tired, Ethan thought. They never get any peace.

When he arrived at Beans and Dreams, Martha was already behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine. She looked up and gave him a small, almost amused smile. "Back for more, huh?"

Ethan grinned. "Can't get enough of the coffee life."

"Right," she said, handing him an apron. "You ready for round two?"

"Absolutely. Today, I'm going to nail it." He tied the apron around his waist, ignoring the fact that it was still stained with yesterday's milk disaster. Ethan felt optimistic. After all, he was a quick learner, wasn't he? Running a multi-billion-dollar company took skill, and he figured being a barista couldn't be that different.

It was.

His first order came in almost immediately. A simple iced latte. Easy enough, he thought. He confidently grabbed a cup, filled it with ice, and went to pour the milk. That's when disaster struck. The milk carton was much heavier than he expected, and before he could react, he had spilled half the carton across the counter.

"Oops," he mumbled, trying to mop up the mess with his apron.

Martha raised an eyebrow but said nothing. She was clearly past the point of being surprised by his mistakes. "Just... try not to waste the whole thing," she sighed.

Ethan started again, this time managing to pour the milk into the cup without flooding the entire counter. Feeling victorious, he went to add the espresso shot. Only, he hadn't put the cup under the machine. By the time he realized it, the espresso was already flowing... onto the floor.

Martha groaned and handed him a mop. "You're worse than my nephew," she muttered, shaking her head.

As Ethan cleaned up the espresso mess, the door jingled and a familiar face walked in. Sophie, the girl he'd met yesterday, walked up to the counter, looking like she had just finished running a marathon. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, and she wore a determined expression.

She barely glanced at Ethan as she ordered. "Large black coffee. No sugar."

Ethan had barely opened his mouth to greet her when she added, "And make sure it's actually black this time."

"Hey, that wasn't my fault! The machine went rogue," Ethan said, trying to defend himself. He grabbed a cup, carefully pressing the right button this time, and successfully poured a simple black coffee. Finally, something he didn't mess up.

Sophie looked at him suspiciously as she accepted the cup. "We'll see." And with that, she left.

"Well, she's a ray of sunshine, isn't she?" Ethan said, watching her walk out the door.

Martha chuckled from behind the counter. "Sophie's tough, but she's good people. She just doesn't have time for nonsense. You might want to keep your charm in check around her. She's not the type to be impressed by... whatever it is you're doing."

"I'm just trying to make a good cup of coffee," Ethan said with a grin. "And maybe impress her a little."

Martha smirked. "Good luck with that."

The rest of the day wasn't much better. Ethan managed to get through a few orders without any major disasters, but he was still slower than the other employees. Customers were starting to notice. A couple of regulars raised their eyebrows when they saw him working, and one woman even asked Martha, "Is this new guy going to be around for long? My cappuccino looks... confused."

Ethan overheard, his cheeks flushing. "I'll get the hang of it," he mumbled to himself, but it was clear that this was harder than he'd expected.

By lunchtime, Ethan was exhausted. Who knew making coffee could be so draining? He slumped down in one of the chairs, rubbing his temples. "How do people do this every day?"

Martha walked over and handed him a sandwich. "You get used to it. The trick is not thinking about it too much."

"I run a billion-dollar company and I'm failing at making a latte. What kind of world is this?" Ethan groaned, taking a bite of the sandwich. It was surprisingly good, considering it came from a tiny shop that barely made enough to stay open.

Martha shrugged. "Coffee's an art form, my friend. You can't rush it."

Just then, Larry walked in, looking as out of place as ever. He was still wearing his suit and tie, his hair perfectly combed. "Sir, you... look tired."

"Gee, thanks, Larry," Ethan said sarcastically. "I wonder why."

"I brought some news from the office," Larry said, sitting down across from Ethan. "You're missing out on a big meeting with the board this afternoon. They're wondering where you are."

"Tell them I'm on a very important business trip," Ethan said, waving him off. "I've got things under control here."

Larry glanced at the mess behind the counter. "It... certainly looks like it."

Before Ethan could respond, Martha called him back to the counter. "Break's over, boss. Time to get back to work."

As the day wore on, Ethan slowly started to get the hang of things-sort of. He still spilled milk every now and then and gave a customer two muffins instead of one, but he was improving. By closing time, he had managed to make five lattes in a row without a single disaster. A new record.

"You survived," Martha said with a small smile as they cleaned up for the night.

"Barely," Ethan said, wiping down the counter. "But you know what? I think I'm starting to like this."

Martha looked at him, clearly skeptical. "Really?"

"Yeah," Ethan said, nodding. "I mean, sure, I'm terrible at it. But it's... nice, in a weird way. No board meetings, no investors breathing down my neck. Just me, coffee, and the occasional angry customer."

Martha chuckled. "Well, don't get too comfortable. Tomorrow's another day."

Ethan grinned. "I'll be ready."

As he left the café that night, walking back to his tiny apartment, Ethan felt oddly proud of himself. Sure, he wasn't great at making coffee yet, but he was getting there. And for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was doing something real-something that wasn't just about money or power. He was living like an ordinary person, and it felt... good.

Of course, he still had a lot to learn. But for now, Ethan was just happy that he hadn't burned the café down. Yet.