#mav rambles

A trio of men stumbled into the 24 hour coffee shop nearby after an op that went sideways to Sunday, and you were there, making a coffee for the very sleep deprived uni student who was studying at one of the booths.

"I'll be with you guys in a moment!" you had called, steeping the latte.

You passed it to the pick-up counter, then wiped your hands on your apron. They noticed you too looked tired, but they didn't make a comment on it.

"Y'all know what you want?" you asked, despite being in Credenhill, England, you had a distinct american accent.

"Whit dae ye recommend?" The man with a scar down his face asked.

"I personally really like the chocolate Frappuccino with no java," you replied. "Cannot stand coffee."

"Yer workin' in a coffee shop an' ye dinnae drink coffee nor tea?" he asked.

"Nope," you cracked a smile.

"Shut up Soap," The oldest of the trio grumbled. "What tea do you guys have?"

"Earl Grey," you listed, "Green, black, ceylon, chai, chammomile, and jasmine."

"I'll do an Earl Grey with extra milk less sugar," he smiled.

"Can I do a chai?" the other older man asked.

You nodded as you put them into the system. The Scottish man, Soap, perused the menu for another moment.

"D'ye ken whit? A'll gie that fancy swally ye mentioned a bash. Nae java mind ye, it's ower late fir a cuppa." Soap said. At your confused look, the oldest man rolled his eyes.

"English MacTavish," the other man said.

"Ach, haud yer wheesht, Gaz," Soap rolled his eyes. "Sorry my Scots gets worse when I'm exhausted. I'll do whatever drink ye said earlier."

You nodded and rung them up.

"What's the name?" you asked. You weren't going to assume it was for Soap or Gaz, what odd names anyway. "Also, for here or to-go?"

"To-go," the oldest said. "And for Price."

The trio waited a respectful distance, watching you make their drinks. Soap happened to notice you use a cup that clearly had been drawn on for his. That was a nice touch.

"For Price?" you called after 10 minutes.

Hi, ive started a very small reaccuring trend on my tumblr to come in and talk about, like how im doing, irl and in art and such. Goals for 2023, how 2022 went. Etc. Etc.

Im here to say 2022 has been a pretty challenging ass year but its been for the better.

I graduated college with my A.A., i moved out of my parent's house into an apartment and moved across the country, i own my own car, i got a really nice job that i like, im not miserable every god damn day. I started building my own wardrobe. I get to buy things i like without someone breathing down my fucking neck and talking down to me all the time. Im actually building some self-confidence.

Now here's the kinda rough part.

I think im kind of like, not giving up on art, but im practically very retired and havent been drawing a lot like ive said i would.

Im still picking up a pen every now and then, i draw. But i stopped pushing myself and i stopped setting goals for art and such. Idk if i even want to go into an art career anymore given how fuckin catastrophic the art world is right now. Im looking into other categories for a full time career. We'll see. Maybe ill wind up going back to college lol.

Idk. Overall ive felt better than previous years. Therapy helped a lot, as well as being on my own and no longer being a 21 year old constantly being spoken to like a dumb teenager at home. Ive finally built some god damn confidence to just be a human being in the world. So, things are getting better. Im trying to get myself out there more and make friends, be more confident in my online presence and such. I still struggle a lot with anxiety and overall low confidence, but its slowly getting better.

"How much longer on that tea?" One demanded. Price and his team were there, you were currently working on Gaz's tea. He tipped well so you liked to steep his tea perfectly.

"Nearly done," you replied, until one of the other workers bumped into you. Half the tea spilled, and you tried to stay calm. "Nevermind."

The coworker who asked scoffed. In her eyes, you had taken too long on purpose when taking the group's order. You hadn't. One of the guys on the team struggled to talk a lot and he had written down what he wanted.

You got right back to making the order. Someone had taken over and steeped Ghost's tea wrong. You knew he was very particular about everything, especially what he consumed.

The team looked sympathetic, they normally came at odd hours of the night, so they got everything perfect.

You suppressed tears when one of the managers got on you for having an attitude when you said "okay" to a time constraint, when you hadn't meant to.

You were as good as you could be as an employee, always early when you could be.

At least you weren't working the graveyard shift tonight. But that did mean that when your shift group was done, you got the least number of tips. You had no clue why; you had clocked in first.

"We tipped you specifically," Price says, he was sitting outside smoking a cigar. You jolted.

"Fucking hell," you grumbled. Soap was next to him.

"We saw ye didnae get anything we tipped ye," Soap says. "Is whit happened normal?"

"Sadly," you replied. "I like when you guys come in when I'm working late."

You were hiding your small crush on the duo. Price handed his cigar to Soap.

"Well," he says, standing up. "The entire team loves you. And Roach insisted on me telling you that he was sorry for your asshole coworkers."

"He's just a sweetheart," you smiled.

Since your car broke down you sat down at the bus stop. A black Jeep pulled up. The window rolled down to reveal Royce sitting in the passenger seat.

"You need a ride?" He asked.

"I don't want to trouble you." you replied.

"Meat you care if we take (Y/N) home?" he turned to Meat, who was presumably driving.