Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sapnap underestimated how difficult his new job would be. Located only one kilometer from his studio apartment, the locally-owned coffee shop is the most popular bakery and cafe in the city, yet it does not offer a training program for new employees.

On Sapnap’s first day as a baker, the coffee shop’s owner - Dream - assured that he would adapt quickly to the demanding environment despite his lack of training.

Determined to prove his worth, Sapnap spends his entire 6am-2pm shift working on menial tasks around the coffee shop. He sweeps floors, he sanitizes cutting boards, he washes dishes, he wipes tables, he mops spills, and he empties waste bins. Supposedly these duties will help him familiarize himself with the coffee shop’s layout, but Sapnap suspects that their real purpose is to test how he performs under stress.

At 7am, the first wave of customers floods into the coffee shop. A line of people dressed in business-casual clothing forms near the cash registers. Within minutes, the bakers and baristas have begun preparing the morning’s first orders.

Sapnap still feels unprepared to tackle baking duties, so he weaves between his other coworkers as the coffee shop becomes busy. Fortunately most of the employees in the bakery and cafe are polite to him, or they ignore him. However, one man makes it clear that he has no patience for the clumsy newcomer.

“Oh my god, can you please stop blocking the doorways like that?” George, the kitchen manager, glares at Sapnap. “I’ve almost dropped like, three trays of stuff just because I need to keep dodging around you!” Without waiting for the newcomer to apologize, he carries a large platter of freshly-baked brioche rolls through the doorway that Sapnap was unintentionally blocking.

Shrinking away, Sapnap watches the manager pass him. Someone already hates me, he thinks dejectedly. For the rest of his first shift, the new baker tries to pay attention to how much space he is occupying. His underarms become sweaty with stress, and his head spins.

Despite Sapnap’s efforts, however, another negative encounter with the kitchen manager soon follows. Near the ovens, Sapnap leans to avoid an open oven door, but he loses his balance on the white-tiled floor, which is slippery with flour.

“Ugh, stop getting in my way!” The kitchen manager flinches when the new baker bumps into him.

“Sorry,” Sapnap mumbles, wincing with embarrassment when his voice cracks.

By the end of the new baker’s first day at the coffee shop, he has made one enemy and no friends. That afternoon, after he arrives back at his studio apartment full of exhaustion and disappointment, he lingers in his shower for longer than usual. Stretching neither eases the tension in his back nor does it soothe the ache in his muscles. Only once he is laying in his bed does he finally relax.

Maybe it would be a rational decision for Sapnap to quit: he should cut his losses by leaving now and searching for a less stressful job. However, despite his dread for tomorrow’s shift, he knows that the first day at a new job is naturally challenging. He cannot judge the entire coffee shop based only upon one shift! If he starts somewhere new and hates that place even more, then he will wish that he had given the coffee shop a second chance. He must try again.

Today was a rough start, but it has to get better from here, he hopes, before he finally drifts into a slumber.

The next morning, Sapnap inhales a deep breath to calm himself when he dresses in his baker uniform, leaves his studio apartment, and climbs into his car in the complex’s parking lot. Beneath a soft dawn sky, he drives through the city until he reaches the coffee shop.

Day 2, here we go.

Approaching the building’s double doors right at opening time, he slips into the building and expects to see an empty customer area. Instead he sees that someone is waiting for him: the coffee shop’s owner.

“Good morning, Sapnap!” Dream greets cheerfully. He stands from one of the plush couches that line the coffee shop’s wall. Extending a hand, he pats the new baker’s shoulder. “How was your first day yesterday?”

“It was great,” Sapnap lies, forcing a bright smile. “I learned a lot.”

“That’s awesome,” Dream nods with approval as he gestures across the customer area toward the kitchen. “But there’s still a lot more for you to learn, and I have the perfect solution. Follow me.” Leading the new employee past hung paintings and cash registers, the owner stops past the doorway to the kitchen.

Already the preparations for this morning are underway; the coffee shop overflows with the scent of butter croissants and artisan bread. Bakers and baristas are tense as they remove freshly baked baguettes from ovens and grind coffee in blenders.

Gazing across the busy kitchen, the owner whistles to a man with a slender figure and narrow shoulders. When the man turns around and approaches, Sapnap recognizes George, the kitchen manager.

Proudly Dream introduces, “This is George, the kitchen manager. You may have met him already.”

“Yeah, I did.” Dread churns in Sapnap’s gut as the kitchen manager crosses his arms. Unlike the newcomer, the longtime employee does not wear a fake smile. Instead he bristles with visible displeasure.

“Nice to meet you,” George responds curtly. He is definitely lying.

Ignoring the manager’s sour attitude, Dream looks back at Sapnap. “George is one of the most highly-skilled culinary artists in the city. He’s one of our most dedicated employees, too, so I chose him to be your mentor for the rest of your first week.”

“What?” Sapnap’s eyes widen with shock. Then, realizing that he does not seem enthusiastic, he corrects hastily, “I mean, like, that sounds cool! I’m excited to meet him.”

“Perfect.” Leaving the pair behind, Dream turns around and exits the kitchen. While walking back to his office, he calls over his shoulder, “Good luck!”

Once the owner is out of earshot, George frowns at Sapnap. Arms still crossed, the kitchen manager concedes, “Well, at least you arrived on time, but don’t assume that everything else will be easy. I’m sick of the newcomers always complaining about how they didn’t realize this job would be so challenging.”

“Uh… okay.” Wishing that literally any of the other employees at the coffee shop could be his mentor rather than this man, Sapnap promises shakily, “I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” George is unimpressed. Promptly he turns away from the newcomer to return to his work. “Now we’ve wasted enough time already. I still need to make at least 10 loaves of banana bread, 50 brioche rolls, and 100 doughnuts. Let’s go.”

Without any further conversation, Sapnap’s training begins. He follows his mentor’s instructions and assists the other bakers with their tasks. Occasionally George will snap at him to hurry up and scold him when his dough balls are imperfect.

As Sapnap works with his mentor, he notices the other bakers and baristas exchanging meaningful looks. Usually these subtle glances follow one of George’s criticisms of the newcomer, and Sapnap realizes that everyone else feels bad for him. Apparently none of the other employees like George, either; it is a comforting thought.

The rising tension climaxes halfway through the morning rush, when Sapnap forgets to add flour to his cutting board before he places a slab of raw dough on it.

“What are you doing, you idiot? It’s going to stick!” George groans with exasperation when he witnesses the mistake. Nudging Sapnap aside, he mutters, “Here, move. I’ll fix it.”

Somehow this remark stings more than George’s insults, but this time, Sapnap does not dwell in his misery alone.

“Hey, George, can’t you give the new guy a break?” Another baker overheard the kitchen manager’s comment. To Sapnap, he complains, “See what we have to deal with every day? George is an arrogant nuisance to everyone, even to people who haven’t had time to gain experience yet.” Then, glowering at the kitchen manager, he warns, “If you don’t stop tearing this poor guy apart, then I’ll report you to Dream - again - for being the terrible mentor and coworker that you are.”

Sapnap’s jaw slackens with astonishment when he hears how the employee addresses the bakery’s irritable leader. He expects that George will erupt and defend himself against the criticism of his teaching methods, but instead the kitchen manager relents.

“Sorry.” Lowering his gaze submissively, George mumbles an apology to Sapnap. “Go ahead. Keep working the dough. Just make sure you add flour to the cutting board next time.”

“I will.” Bursting with triumph, Sapnap is unable to hide his victorious grin. Finally someone has treated George with the same attitude that he gives to everyone else!

Throughout the rest of Sapnap’s second shift, he basks in smug satisfaction. His mentor watches him silently, probably judging him, but now the new baker knows that his other coworkers will protect him from the coffee shop’s irritable outcast.

Sapnap’s first week passes, and several more weeks pass after that. Every day the baker arrives on time, ready to learn and impress his coworkers. As he gains experience, he no longer needs to wait for his coworkers’ instructions. Instead, he has begun to receive compliments from his coworkers, who frequently praise his ambitious-yet-amiable demeanor.

With all of the other coworkers as allies, Sapnap believes that his feud with George is over. He is right… but not in the way that he anticipated.

Every Friday, the coffee shop offers its weekly special. Any customer who orders a breakfast pizza will receive a free iced coffee along with it.

Before Sapnap began working at the coffee shop last month, he already knew that the Friday special was wildly popular throughout the city. At the end of every business week, the coffee shop attracts even more business than usual. Consequently, all of its bakers and baristas are frayed with stress as they try to keep up with demand.

On Sapnap’s first Friday shift, his mentor George was frustrated when the new baker confessed that he had never made a pizza before. However, instead of insulting his coworker’s inexperience at the end of that shift, the kitchen manager thanked him for his help.

At the time, Sapnap did not know how to interpret George’s appreciative comment, but now he has grown a confusing amount of respect for the other man. On Fridays, George proves why he holds the supposed rank of the most highly-skilled culinary artist in the city. He is able to mix, roll, toss, and stretch circles of raw dough for the pizzas with unparalleled efficiency and reliability.

As Sapnap progresses throughout the weeks, he realizes that if George were not in the kitchen, then it would be nearly impossible for the coffee shop to keep up with demand every day. Conflicted, the baker wonders whether to admire his leader… or despise his irreplaceability. Whenever he observes the focused expression on George’s face, he cannot doubt that the manager is truly passionate about the culinary arts. He’s so hard to like, but he’s so proud of his work. Maybe he was only annoyed with me during my first week because he had to sacrifice his time to train me.

Despite his grudging understanding of his former mentor’s behavior, Sapnap must also acknowledge that George is the only coworker who has not complimented his improvement since he began working here. Every other employee has commented about the baker’s keen instincts and fast learning. Surely George has noticed these traits, too.

By the end of Sapnap’s first month, he had formed alliances with nearly all of the other bakers and baristas. They bonded over their mutual dislike of George, so Sapnap is unwilling to admit that he does not hate the kitchen manager as much as everyone else.

Now, Sapnap resides in the break room, located down a short hallway past the restrooms and maintenance closet. Sitting alone at the room’s single table beside the countertop and sink, he spends his 15-minute break with his attention divided. The baker scrolls through social media on his smartphone while he eats a formerly frozen meal off a paper plate. He planned to savor the refreshing silence, but before his break ends, the sound of voices distracts him.

“I still think you should tell Dream to get rid of him,” someone whispers furtively. There must be coworkers chatting privately in the hallway beyond the break room. “Maybe Dream has been doubting him, too. Who knows?”

Are they talking about me? Sapnap thought that he made such a good impression on his coworkers! Why would they want to fire him? Mind racing, the baker wonders if his fate is already decided. Both intrigued and worried, Sapnap turns off his smartphone to listen as the first speaker continues.

“Everyone already hates him. Anyone would be a better leader than him… maybe even that new guy! Sapnap has been learning fast, and Dream likes him, too. In another month, he’ll probably be the best option to replace George, and I bet that George knows it.”

Sapnap’s heart pounds and his throat dries as he processes his coworker’s plan. What if George is only rude to me because he thinks that I’m a threat? When this question enters his mind, it is like turning on a light in a dark room. George doesn’t hate me. He’s intimidated by me!

Forgetting that he intended to eavesdrop secretly, Sapnap scrambles out of his chair and shoves his smartphone back into his pocket. When the people in the hallway hear the scraping of chair legs against the floor, they fall silent. Grimacing, the baker braces himself for shouted accusations as he exits into the hallway.

“Hey, guys,” he greets with a forced smile. “I was just finishing my break.”

“Cool,” one coworker shrugs. “I assume you heard us talking?”

“I heard a few things,” Sapnap admits shyly. Then he lies, “Not everything, though.” He has provided the perfect opportunity for his coworkers to reconsider and change their plans… but they remain steady.

“That’s fine. As long as Dream doesn’t know about our plan, we don’t care who hears about it. Even if George hears about it and tries to fight back, he’ll be outnumbered.”

“What’s your plan?” Sapnap’s hands plunge into the pockets of his apron. He does not want to reveal his uncertainty about whether he will agree.

“Our plan is to blindside George,” the other coworker explains casually. “Are you with us?”

Sapnap hesitates. Suddenly he has no desire to discuss his opinions about the kitchen manager. Finally he responds modestly, “I don’t know. Can I have some time to think about it? The plan, I mean?”

“Sure,” the second coworker permits nonchalantly. “But don’t take too long. We want George to be gone as soon as possible.” Then they smirk. Glancing back at their confidante, they add slyly, “All I want is to see the devastated look on that guy’s face when Dream finally fires him. It’s gonna be amazing.”

“What if George has a family, though?” Sapnap reasons. “If he has, like, kids or something, then I don’t want him to lose his job.”

“Lots of people have kids,” the first coworker scoffs dismissively. “It’s not our problem. Anyway, Dream is convinced that George is, like, some kind of angel, but if all of us say that we want George to be gone, then Dream won’t have a choice but to fire him.”

Unnerved by the ambition flashing in his coworkers’ eyes, Sapnap reiterates that he will need some time to consider their proposal. Fortunately the coworkers agree and leave him alone. As the baker returns to the kitchen, he reviews all of his past experiences with George. Yes, the manager is frustrating, but is he really that insufferable? What if he’s actually just lonely because everyone else hates him?

Checking the knots on the back of his apron, Sapnap crosses the white-tiled floor. Now experienced, he walks carefully to avoid slipping on spilled flour. Rejoining the rest of the bakers, he pulls a clean pair of latex gloves onto his hands and slices freshly baked brioche rolls into halves. No longer requiring help to find tools or ingredients, he feels completely comfortable in the kitchen; it has become like a second home to him.

Less than thirty minutes after learning about his coworkers’ plan to banish George from his leadership position, Sapnap ends up working beside his former mentor. Keeping his gaze focused upon the raw dough as his fingers knead it, the baker wonders what to say. Should he say anything at all?

I don’t want George to be my enemy anymore.

An opportunity arises when the kitchen manager leaves momentarily to the cabinet where cake flour, powdered sugar, and crystallized ginger are stored. He must be making scones.

Pretending that he must speak to the coffee shop’s owner, Sapnap leaves in the opposite direction. Briefly he waits in the short hallway, out of sight from the kitchen and the cash registers, until he walks back to his work station. “Hey, George?”

“Yeah?”

Hoping that his guess was correct, the baker lies, “Dream asked me to help you with the scones.”

“He did?” George's deep umber eyes glitter with wariness before he looks down again, but his voice is neutral when he responds, “Alright. That’s fine.” He shifts aside to make space.

Joining his former mentor, Sapnap measures and dumps cake flour into a shiny metal mixing bowl while George adds pinches of baking soda and salt. Of course, Dream never actually requested for Sapnap to assist George, but the pair of bakers make a good team regardless. In a second mixing bowl, they take turns adding wet ingredients along with bits of crystallized ginger, then they add this mixture to the dry ingredients.

After waiting for a moment when the other bakers were not within earshot, Sapnap speaks for the first time since they began. “Hey, George, I wanted to tell you something.”

“What?” George passes the first sphere of raw dough to Sapnap.

Brushing the sphere with butter and cinnamon, Sapnap confesses, “I know that you’re really busy, and I respect that.” He places the raw scone onto a greased baking tray. “I just wanted to say that I really admire you. You taught me well when you were my mentor during my first week. I appreciate it.”

George’s hand freezes before he can pass the next sphere of dough. Unexpectedly he turns his head to search Sapnap’s face. “Are you joking? I can’t tell.”

“I’m not joking.” The baker dispels his manager’s suspicion. “I’m serious. I know that you’re not really popular around here, but you’re a fantastic worker, George.”

“Oh.” George blinks with genuine surprise. Unsure of how to accept the compliment, he returns hastily to his work. “Well, uh, thanks.” When he forms the next chunk of raw dough, he flattens it with his palms instead of rolling it into a ball. Awkwardly he fixes the mistake, probably hoping that Sapnap did not witness it.

The baker and the manager do not have another conversation for the rest of the day, but the ice between them has already begun to thaw.

Technically Sapnap has kept his promise to his coworkers; he considered the idea of an alliance that would banish George from his leadership position. However, he did not keep his other promise, for he has sided against that alliance.

On another busy Friday morning, George is not the only man tossing harsh comments across the kitchen. Out of earshot of the customers, the entire back half of the coffee shop is like a hellscape. Some employees never appeared for their shifts, so today’s crew is reduced. Even George struggles to keep up with the rapidly increasing demand for breakfast pizzas.

Ironically the most logical solution to this problem would be cooperation, but instead the pre-existing divisions between the coworkers have festered and caused more chaos.

“George, which order are you working on?” A barista calls from the doorway that leads to the cash registers. “We have lots of iced coffee ready, but we need the pizzas to go with them!”

“I’m working on Order 168 right now!” George’s response is strained with stress and dehydration.

“You’re still on Order 168?” One of the bakers exclaims. “Seems like you’re losing your skills. You’re behind by, like, 20 orders!”

“Shut up,” George protests indignantly. "I'm making progress!"

Unfazed, another baker suggests, “Maybe Sapnap should cover for you instead.”

Hearing the veiled insult, Sapnap winces to himself. He cannot even interpret the statement as a compliment, for it is not really a compliment at all. If he were not here, then his coworkers would simply name another employee as a potential replacement. At least George is always honest about his motives.

As the morning continues, his sympathy for George only increases. The coworkers help each other to make the coffee shop’s regular pastries and bread, but no one offers to help the kitchen manager to make the complicated breakfast pizzas.

Eventually the morning transforms into midday, and the crowds cease. The coffee shop’s staff catch up with orders and finally receive a chance to take their breaks. When each baker leaves for their 30-minute break, the other coworkers wish them a nice lunch and welcome them back when they return. George is the only exception; except for Sapnap, no one tells the kitchen manager to have a nice lunch when he slips out the coffee shop’s back door for his 30-minute break.

Finally able to hear his own thoughts over the beeping of timers and the shouts of his coworkers, Sapnap regains his awareness of what tasks have not been done. While baristas sweep floors and wipe tables in the customer area, some of the bakers clean the kitchen.

Promising to empty the waste bins, Sapnap removes bulging plastic bags from each bin and replaces them with clean, empty bags. Gathering the full waste bags in his hands, he carries them out the back door to the dumpster behind the coffee shop.

Emerging from the building for the first time since he arrived for his shift, Sapnap breathes fresh air. However, before he can toss the bags into the dumpster’s gaping mouth, he hears someone talking.

A muffled, unfamiliar voice emanates from a phone.

Gently placing the bags of waste upon the stained concrete, Sapnap leans around the dumpster to peek at the voice’s source.

With hunched shoulders, George sits upon the curb with his shoes resting upon the parking lot’s greasy asphalt. One hand hugs his bent knees against his chest while his other hand presses his smartphone against his ear. Sitting in the shade of the coffee shop’s back wall, he appears much smaller than usual. Unaware that his former trainee is listening, the kitchen manager responds to the caller.

“No, I know that. I understand, but listen, I’ve asked other people. There’s literally no one else who can come to pick them up -”

The caller interrupts, but their words are indecipherable from this distance. The manager listens impatiently for a few seconds before he attempts to reason again.

“I told you, my shift at work has been really busy. I’ll probably need to stay to finish all of my tasks. All you would need to do is keep them in the office until the other classes come out, too - or let them sit in one of the other classes or something, I don’t know! I just don’t want them to sit outside, wondering when I’m going to come - or wondering if I’m going to come -”

The caller interrupts again. Clenching his free hand into a fist, George lowers his head forward until his face presses into his bent knees. Once the caller finishes, the kitchen manager seems to slouch with defeat. Weakly he sighs, “Alright, let me just - okay. I’ll try to arrange something with my boss. Thank you. Bye.”

George hangs up, then he clutches the device in one hand. His knuckles are white, then his wrist limpens and he exhales a ragged breath.

Seeing George upset is not new to Sapnap, but this is a different kind of upset. Instead of appearing angry, the kitchen manager looks helpless. It is sensible; if he left early to fulfill whatever commitment he had made, it would give his coworkers a perfect excuse to argue that he is no longer reliable. If George left early today - no matter the reason - it would risk his entire job.

Without even realizing, Sapnap opens his mouth. Tossing the bags of waste into the dumpster, he approaches the kitchen manager to offer, “I can help you.”

“What?” Startled, George leaps up from the curb with a gasp. Shoving his smartphone back into his pocket, he faces his former trainee. Like a wounded animal stuck in a trap, he hisses, “Haven’t you ever heard of minding your own business?” Deep umber eyes widen with shock, then they fill with fear when George realizes that his coworker overheard part of his phone call. “What did you hear?”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have listened,” Sapnap apologizes sheepishly. Playing with the hems of his apron, he admits, “I probably heard more than you would’ve wanted me to hear.” He is guilty, but he is not afraid. He no longer feels an urge to shrink away from the manager.

Humming his acknowledgment, George crosses his arms apprehensively. Sapnap has called his bluff. Glancing around at the parking lot and at the closed door that leads back into the kitchen, George moves closer and lowers his voice to a whisper.

“Fine, I’ll tell you what’s going on. My problem - it’s really just - there’s a - I have a -” He falters, then he grits his teeth with frustration. “Ugh, this should be easy to say, but I just can’t -”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Sapnap’s voice softens as he tries to comfort the other man. “I won’t judge you. I’m on your side, George.” Unintentionally he reveals his allegiance. I’m on George’s side. His heart pounds.

Unaccustomed to receiving compassion from someone who is practically a stranger, George squeezes his eyes shut and confesses the truth.

“I have a kid. They’re five years old. The person on the phone was their teacher.”

Silence.

Sapnap cannot think of how to respond. Unsure about how to tread upon this new, treacherous territory, he stammers, “Wow, George… I didn’t know you had a - that you were even -”

“Married? No, not anymore.” With a cynical smile, George confirms, “The divorce was finalized six months ago, but I’ve been trying to make sure that -” Abruptly his throat chokes and he clears his throat. “I don’t want my kid to know that everything has gone wrong, but it’s been really hard. Sometimes I’m scared.” The confession reveals his vulnerability, unintentionally showing how much he trusts his coworker - no, his friend.

“I’m so sorry to hear about that, George. Are you… alright? Do you have custody?”

“Yes, I have full custody, but I just don’t want anyone to -” He trails off again.

“To know that you have a kid?” Sapnap guesses.

“No, I don’t want anyone to feel bad for me,” George corrects sternly. He stiffens again. “I can handle everything. That’s my job.”

The kitchen manager’s desire to remain professional fills Sapnap’s heart with sadness. During the past month, while their coworkers spread rumors about George and criticized his leadership skills, the sensitive man was suffering alone.

Thankfully George seems to understand Sapnap’s silence. By now, his distress has vanished to leave a dull fatigue behind. He rubs the back of his neck with one pale hand, then he squares his shoulders and inhales a deep breath.

Satisfied with the pair’s mutual understanding, Sapnap prepares to retreat to avoid overstaying his welcome, but then George opens his mouth again. “You said that you wanted to help me.”

“Yes, of course.” Sapnap agrees immediately. “What do you need me to do?”

Sitting in the office of the coffee shop’s owner, Sapnap warns Dream that he must leave his shift early. Dream is disappointed, but he understands the reason for Sapnap’s sacrifice of his growing reputation.

“That was a generous offer,” the owner compliments warmly even as his teal eyes darken with worry. “But why did you offer that to George of all people?”

Fidgeting in the wooden chair in front of the owner’s desk, Sapnap reveals his coworkers’ secret plan, “I heard some of the other guys talking about forcing you to fire George. If he left during a busy shift, even to pick up his kid from school, it would give them a perfect excuse to make you kick him out.”

“So you disagree with them?” Dream raises his eyebrows. Impressed, he sits up in his swiveling chair and glances at his computer. “Besides me, of course, you’ve got to be the only guy here who likes George.”

“I think he’s misunderstood, and even if George deserved to be fired, his kid shouldn’t have to suffer from that.”

When Sapnap leaves Dream’s office, he announces to the rest of the coffee shop’s staff that he will leave early.

Apparently ignoring all of their previous alliances with the new baker, his coworkers react with protests of disapproval.

“You seriously want to force the rest of us here to finish your work?”

“I thought you were better than that, Sapnap.”

“What a loser move! Even George wouldn’t leave early!”

Sapnap lies that he is sorry for deserting his coworkers. All traces of his guilt fade when George sends him a secret nod of gratitude. Before the baker leaves, the manager slips him a scrap of paper with scribbles on the back, which Sapnap reads while he strides across the parking lot to his car.

Rolling down his windows, Sapnap allows fresh air to filter into his car as he powers on the engine and drives out of the coffee shop’s parking lot. He listens to his smartphone’s navigation app as he travels along sunlit streets and beneath leafy trees. He reaches the school about 30 minutes after the kindergarten classes have ended.

Since the school’s older children are still in their classes, the parking lot is about half-full, so Sapnap chooses a spot close to the classrooms. He turns off the engine, unbuckles his seat belt, and checks his appearance in the rear view mirror. He runs fingers through his reddish hair, he smooths wrinkles from his baker uniform, and he hopes that George’s child will not be afraid of him.

Hopping out of the vehicle, Sapnap shields his eyes from the sun with one hand while he walks. Beneath the school’s address on the scrap of paper that George gave to him, there is a two-digit number: it must be Avani's classroom.

With shy waves and smiles at the parents and faculty that he passes, Sapnap reminisces about his past. These buildings reignite long-forgotten memories of the times in his life when he did not need to worry about jobs, money, and relationships.

When Sapnap finds the correct classroom, he glances down at the scrap of paper again. Beneath the two-digit number, George scribbled what appears to be a random word: “SALAMANDER”.

“‘Salamander’?” Sapnap whispers to himself.

“Hello, can I help you?” A voice distracts the baker’s attention. When he lifts his head, he sees a teacher standing with crossed arms in the classroom’s doorway.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up Avani. Are they here?”

The teacher recognizes the name, but they do not yield yet.

“Avani’s father set a code word. Do you know it?”

Huh? George did not mention a code word! Sapnap panics internally for a split second… until he realizes -

“Salamander.”

The teacher relaxes visibly, then they step aside to permit the baker’s entry. “Alright, come in.”

Hiding his relief, Sapnap thanks the teacher and enters the kindergarten classroom. It appears much smaller than he imagined, but the room must seem massive to its students. Paper cutouts and colorful drawings decorate the walls. There are calendars, pictures of animals, and a shelf of cubby holes against one wall; every cubby hole is empty except for a single lunchbox. Only one child remains, rummaging through a container of animal figurines on the carpeted floor.

“Avani?”

The child pauses and looks up at the newcomer.

Sapnap never considered himself to be good with children, but his heart nearly melts when he sees Avani’s face for the first time. Except for their smaller size, darker skin, and longer hair, they look almost exactly like their father.

“Who are you?”

“Hi! Your dad George sent me to pick you up from school.” Crouching down about two meters away, Sapnap lowers himself to the floor until he reaches Avani’s eye level. “Salamander.”

Recognizing the code word and witnessing the baker’s friendly expression, Avani gathers the animal figurines and dumps them back into the container. Still wary of the stranger, they question, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Sapnap.” He points at the name of the coffee shop, which is stitched into the fabric of his uniform. “I work at the coffee shop with George, so yeah, I would say he’s my friend.”

After processing the answer, Avani responds, “My dad says that the people at the coffee shop are a bunch of idiots.”

Sapnap laughs. “You know what? He’s not wrong. We are idiots sometimes.”

From the doorway, the kindergarten teacher beckons, “Avani, why don’t you grab your lunchbox from the cubby hole?”

“Okay!” The five-year-old child returns the container of animal figurines to its shelf, then they retrieve their lunchbox and hurry back to join Sapnap.

“Thanks for coming to pick them up,” the teacher leans close to thank the baker in a low voice. “George sounded really stressed on the phone. He must’ve been grateful that you were willing to come for him.”

Although Sapnap knew this already, his heart flutters anyway. “Yeah, I think he was.”

Referring to the scrap of paper again, Sapnap drives to the apartment complex where George lives. Located about fifteen kilometers from the coffee shop, it is a sad-looking cluster of buildings with grimy staircases, flickering hallway lights, and a lot of moths. Only a cinder-block wall separates the complex from the local highway. Tendrils of ivy crawl up the cinder-block wall’s squared surfaces, practically swallowing the barrier.

Ignoring their home’s drab appearance, Avani brims with questions for the man in the driver’s seat. Sitting in the middle of the back seat with their lunchbox and backpack beside them, they have not stopped talking throughout the car ride.

“Mr. Sapnap, why is your hair red?”

“My hair isn’t completely red.” Parking his car in one of the lot’s visitor spots, Sapnap turns off the engine. “This is my hair’s natural color: kind of brown and kind of red.”

“My dad can’t see red.”

“Oh?” Sapnap frowns with confusion as he unbuckles his seat belt. Hopping out of the driver’s seat, he helps Avani climb out of the back seat and slings their backpack over his shoulder. “So is George, like, colorblind or something?”

“Yes, but he told me not to tell anyone about it.”

“Then why did you tell me about it?”

“Because you’re my dad’s friend,” Avani answers plaintively. They are not wrong.

Together the pair cross the parking lot and climb the stairs that lead to the apartment complex’s fourth level. Sapnap follows Avani as the five-year-old leads him to their apartment unit.

“This is our home!” Stopping suddenly, they point up at a sign that reads, “Unit 404”.

Sapnap reaches to grab the door handle, but when he jiggles it, the door to the apartment unit is locked. He almost curses to himself before he remembers that Avani is listening.

“Ugh, really?” George must have forgotten to give him the key! “How are we supposed to get inside?” He tries to think of an alternative plan. They are on the fourth level, so they cannot simply crawl in through a window! Glancing down at Avani, he asks, “Has George ever gotten locked out of the apartment?”

“Yeah, I had to let him back in.”

“So is there no other way to get inside?” Maybe the pair will just need to wait inside Sapnap’s car until George comes home… but who knows how long he’ll take to get here? What if one of them needs to use a restroom? What if Avani needs to take some sort of medication?

Pulling the baker out of his spiraling thoughts, Avani gazes up at the locked door. “But we have two keys.”

“Wait, really?” Sapnap’s heart rises with hope. “George probably has one key. Where’s the other key? Is it hidden somewhere?”

“My dad told me not to tell anyone that I have a key, too.”

“You have the other key?” Thank goodness they can’t seem to keep a secret. “Can you unlock the door, then?”

“It’s not polite to ask for something without saying ‘please’.”

“Well, then, can you please unlock the door?”

“Okay!” Unzipping their lunchbox, Avani pulls out the second key and gives it to Sapnap, who unlocks the unit’s door with a sigh of relief.

“Great, thanks.” He holds open the door so the five-year-old child can dash inside, then he slips into the unit and closes the door behind himself.

Without waiting for instructions, Avani climbs a step stool so they can reach the kitchen sink, where they wash their hands while Sapnap assesses the apartment.

There is almost no furniture: only a single couch, a single bookshelf, a small coffee table, and a waste bin decorate the main living area. One white-painted wall is covered with crayon drawings of animals. Another white-painted wall is peeling near its edges.

When Sapnap washes his hands after Avani, he hears the manager’s words echoing in his head: “Stop getting in my way!”

He surveys the kitchen cabinets, the refrigerator, and the freezer. Homemade granola and homemade loaves of bread. A liter of oat milk. Cans of beans. A small sack of rice. A bag of apples with a ‘reduced price’ sticker on it. Boxes of dry pasta and ramen noodles. A half-full bag of frozen peas and carrots. There is not much else.

George’s words echo in his head again: “I’m sick of the newcomers always complaining about how they didn’t realize this job would be so challenging.”

Moving from the kitchen to the apartment’s main living area, Sapnap notices a stack of file folders on one of the bookshelf’s top levels, out of Avani’s reach. When he leans close to the stack to read the labels, he notices that they are all dedicated to finances. Records of bills, taxes, fees, and hourly wages. There are also signed divorce papers.

Sapnap can almost hear the manager’s scathing reproach: “Haven’t you ever heard of minding your own business?”

Sapnap turns away from the bookshelf. Conflict weighs heavy upon his lungs when he looks down to see Avani pouring their school supplies onto the coffee table. They sort their pencils by color and arrange their homework assignments into a row.

“I don’t want my kid to know that everything has gone wrong, but it’s been really hard.”

Without even realizing it, Sapnap opens his mouth.

“Hey, Avani, are you hungry?” He waits for them to look up curiously from their assignments. “I can order some dinner for us to eat.” The baker pulls his smartphone from his pocket and scrolls through his food delivery app. “What do you like to eat?”

“I’m a veteran.”

“You’re - wait, what?”

The five-year-old child pauses before trying again. “I’m a veterinarian!”

“Do you mean, like, a vegetarian?”

“Yes!” Avani nods with bright eyes.

“Ah, okay.” Looking back down at his smartphone, Sapnap muses, “There should be plenty of vegetarian options nearby.”

Browsing through the menu of a local restaurant, Sapnap gets an idea when he reads a note that says, “Free delivery for purchases over $50.” Well, that sounds like a pretty good deal. Apologizing silently to the restaurant’s employees, he orders almost $70 of food: appetizers, beverages, entrees, side dishes, and desserts.

When the food delivery arrives, the baker enlists his small companion for assistance. Together they carry five plastic bags and one tray of beverages from the delivery car, up the stairs, and back to the apartment unit.

“Is all of this for us?” Avani is astonished.

“It is, but you shouldn’t eat all of it right now,” Sapnap explains. Placing the five bags of food onto the kitchen countertop, he washes his hands again. “Choose one of the meals, and I’ll put the rest of them into the refrigerator so you and George can eat them later.”

Sapnap and Avani choose entrees from the bags and eat dinner together. While the sun drifts toward the horizon, the baker sits upon the couch and supervises Avani as they begin their homework. The child asks for help only twice to solve basic math and spelling problems, but otherwise they work independently.

“George is probably really proud of you, huh?”

Avani pauses and looks back over their shoulder. Calmly they nod, “My dad says that he is proud of me every day.” Without waiting for a response, they return their attention to their work.

Not for the first time, Sapnap dwells upon how much George must have trusted him to be here. He literally told me his kid’s name, where they go to school, their secret code word, and he basically let me into his apartment. The kitchen manager may be prickly, arrogant, sarcastic, rude, and spiteful… but he knows what is important. George cares more than he is willing to admit.

Sapnap cannot allow his manager to be fired. Sapnap would do anything to help him.

I would do anything for George.

He does not know what to do with this thought, but he refuses to let go of it.

When footsteps finally echo through the hallway outside the apartment, a sliver of night sky is visible between the window curtains. City lights and neon signs glow in the distance, glittering beautifully along the horizon, but instead of looking out the window, Sapnap looks at the front door.

A key unlocks the apartment unit. The front door swings inward, revealing a man with a slender figure and narrow shoulders.

Wearing a worried expression, George enters the apartment. His dark brown hair is messy and his shoulders slouch with exhaustion, but once he sees Sapnap sitting comfortably on the couch and Avani finishing their homework, he relaxes with visible relief.

“Hello.”

Avani’s head snaps up. “Dad!” Dropping their pencil, they launch upwards and sprint across the apartment’s main living area. Wrapping both arms around George’s leg, they bounce with excitement. “Mr. Sapnap took me home from school!”

“I know, and I’m very glad that he did.” George’s voice is soft and gentle, completely devoid of its usual sharpness. When his child pulls away, the manager kneels down. “Have you eaten yet? I think we have some pasta that I could make for you -”

“Mr. Sapnap bought dinner for me, but he asked me not to tell you how much money it costed.”

Sapnap’s heart sinks, and he berates himself for assuming that Avani would keep his secret.

“How much money did he spend on it?” George raises an eyebrow.

Instead of answering, Avani runs to the refrigerator. They wait for George to stand up and follow them before they pull open the door, revealing over $50 of currently untouched food.

“Oh my god, what is all of this?” George gasps with shock. Reaching into the refrigerator, he reads the labels of several appetizers, entrees, and side dishes. “Spinach artichoke dip, a burrito, fried tofu - this is so much food! How did all of these even come from one restaurant?” Closing the refrigerator door, he whirls around to face the baker with a disbelieving expression. “Why did you buy all of this? Don’t lie to me.”

Anticipating that this situation might get ugly, Sapnap stands from the couch and prepares to leave the apartment unit. His throat feels dry again, and he hopes that he did not just ruin his friendship with the manager.

“Listen, I’ll just go,” he blurts. Opening the front door, he pats his pockets to make sure that he has his keys and smartphone. Lowering his face to avoid George’s searching eyes, he slips out the front door without waiting for a response. Sapnap does not want to leave yet, but he also does not want to face an interrogation about his motives. The baker flees into the hallway, walking fast under flickering lights and ducking his head to avoid fluttering moths. Behind him, he hears the sound of a door opening.

A voice calls, “Wait! Stop!”

Sapnap skids to a halt. Breathing heavily, he whirls around to see George running after him. Quick footsteps echo down the hallway until the manager finally reaches him, but George does not speak right away. Instead he leans against the wall for a moment, coughing once before he catches his breath.

“You just left and ran, and I had to run after you, and I hate cardio!” Standing up fully again, George pants, “You didn’t answer my questions, either.”

“Alright, I just - I’m sorry.” Sapnap has no other choice than to relent. “I was just worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because I know that you don’t really like to talk about your feelings that much, and I’m pretty sure that you were scared of me at work because the other guys liked me and not you.” Once Sapnap begins gushing, he cannot stop. Barely getting enough air, he continues, “And I didn’t like you either at first, but then I realized that you might just be misunderstood and maybe even lonely, so I really wanted to help you, and buying some food seemed like a good idea -”

“Okay, that’s enough.” Raising one hand, George cuts him off with uncharacteristic patience. The manager runs fingers through his hair as he seems to consider something. Then, after glancing back at the open door to his apartment unit, he meets Sapnap’s eyes again. “Thank you for picking up Avani. It meant a lot to me.”

“Of course. I was happy to help.” Sapnap is relieved to hear that George is not angry, but the tension remains in his shoulders and lungs.

George stares at him for a long moment, searching for a trace of dishonesty. When he finds none, he leans forward unexpectedly. Breath hitching, Sapnap leans forward, too, and the friends wrap arms around each other for a hug. George is slightly taller, yet Sapnap still seems to swallow the other man in his embrace. Two rib cages press against each other, swelling and receding as they inhale each other’s scents of sweat and cologne.

When George and Sapnap pull away from each other, the hallway around them seems brighter and less foreboding. Referring to the pair’s first real conversation, George confesses, “I didn’t want to say it at the time, but I think that you’re a fantastic worker, too, Sapnap.”

“Thank you.” Sapnap could walk away now, but something has changed. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, George. If you ever need help again, just let me know.”

For the first time that the baker can remember, George blushes. Pale cheeks heat up with embarrassment even as a genuine smile causes his lips to curl upwards. The usually stubborn manager does not know how to convey how happy he feels, so instead he asks, “Would you ever like to visit the apartment again? Like, after Avani and I eat all of the food that you bought for us?”

Another genuine smile touches Sapnap’s face, too. He dips his head to accept the generous offer, “I would love that.”

In a surprisingly positive twist of events, several of the coffee shop’s employees quit before they could execute their plan to banish George from his leadership position. Even the coworkers who attempted to recruit Sapnap became bored with their lack of progress, so they submitted their notices of resignation. One person even quit halfway through a shift, when their patience with the demanding job reached its bitter end.

Sapnap and George were relieved that their jobs were safe, but unfortunately the shortage of staff also meant that they needed to work harder to compensate for their missing coworkers. Dream was forced to reduce the coffee shop’s open hours for several weeks while he spread job postings online. The coffee shop’s remaining employees nearly reached their breaking point, too, until several newcomers were scheduled to have their first shifts on a busy Friday.

This time, Sapnap is the employee who is assigned to train the new recruits. His chest swells with pride when Dream introduces him as one of the most devoted culinary artists in the city.

On the newcomers’ first day, Sapnap encourages them to copy his first day’s tasks: sweeping floors, sanitizing cutting boards, washing dishes, wiping tables, mopping spills, and emptying waste bins. All of these duties will help the newcomers to familiarize themselves with the coffee shop’s layout, and these tasks will also test how the newcomers perform under stress.

One new baker in particular, a young man named Sam, seems particularly determined to impress his coworkers. He is friendly, he has a contagious laugh, and he is a fast learner… but by the beginning of his second week, he has also developed a fear of George.

Halfway through flattening a sheet of cookie dough with a rolling pin, Sam looks across the kitchen with an uncertain expression. “Hey, Sapnap?”

“Yeah?” The mentor glances up from the bananas that he is mashing for today’s banana bread.

“George just left to use the restroom, so before he comes back, I wanted to ask: is he always like this?”

“Like what?”

“He just seems so… angsty.”

“Oh.” Failing to suppress an amused smile, Sapnap reassures, “Don’t worry about George. He’s short-tempered with all of the new people, not just you. On my first day, he hated me, too, but now we’re buddies!”

“Really?” Sam's eyes flicker with hope.

“Yeah, really,” Sapnap promises solemnly. “I can guarantee that he’s a good guy, even if he doesn’t like to show it.”

“Okay. That’s good to know.” Satisfied, Sam returns his attention to the sheet of cookie dough.

Sapnap watches the newcomer work for another moment before he finishes mashing the bananas. One minute later, George returns from his restroom break and rejoins Sapnap’s side. Together the pair mix ingredients and pour the batter into greased pans with unparalleled efficiency and reliability. The kitchen manager does not know why the baker sent him a humorous grin when he returns, but he does not question it, and that is okay. Sapnap knows that he has saved another person from developing a bad first impression of his friend, and this result was well worth the effort.