CHAPTER THREE
Nora
It had been a few weeks since my first night at the bar. I’d gotten used to the routine by now, although my body was still adjusting to the stress of running from one job to another. I stopped checking the calendar, too. The days just skipped past me.
I would usually wake up early, make breakfast, and work the lunch rush at the café. Then I’d hurry across the city to the bar before sunset and repeat all of it again in the morning. It was exhausting. My body ached every day.
I loved the café more than the bar. I loved the way the bell rang when customers came in for their morning coffee, how plates clinked together as orders left the kitchen, how quiet conversations drifted through the room and blended into the kind of comforting noise I barely noticed.
I moved between the tables without thinking.
I balanced a tray in one hand as I moved from customer to customer.
Here, I knew where everything belonged. I knew which table wobbled unless you nudged the leg with your foot.
I knew which regular wanted cream without asking.
I knew which corner of the floor became slippery whenever someone tracked rain in from outside.
The bar still made me think before every step. I had to be careful not to make mistakes. The café was never like that. I felt at ease there. I placed two mugs on a table by the window and smiled at the couple sitting there.
“Can I get you anything else?” I asked.
The woman looked up from her book and smiled back. “I think we’re alright, dear. Thank you.”
“Table six is asking if the blueberry muffins are fresh,” a familiar voice said.
I didn’t even have to look up. “They came out of the oven twenty minutes ago.”
Sofia always had something to say. She filled every room she walked into without trying.
She talked to customers as though she’d known them for years.
She somehow convinced even the grumpiest people to leave smiling.
I wasn’t anything like that. I’d always found it easier to listen than to speak, and somehow we’d settled into a friendship that worked because neither of us expected the other to change.
The lunch rush arrived faster than either of us expected.
We barely stopped moving until the line finally disappeared and the room settled into a slower pace.
Sofia leaned against the counter with a glass of water.
She looked at me over the rim for a moment before setting her cup down.
There was a thoughtful look in her eyes.
“You look tired,” she said.
I admitted that I was. There was no point pretending otherwise.
My body ached, and I could feel the exhaustion sitting behind my eyes.
Even so, she shook her head as if I’d completely missed her point.
She wasn’t talking about the kind of tiredness that disappeared after a good night’s sleep.
She meant the deeper kind, the kind that blurred one day into the next until time became difficult to keep track of.
Instinctively, I insisted that I still knew what day it was.
“Then what day is it?” she asked.
The answer should have come immediately. Instead, I opened my mouth and stared at her in silence while my mind searched for something that should have been obvious. Nothing came.
Sofia folded her arms, a satisfied grin spreading across her face. “That’s what I thought.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. Defeat was easier than pretending any longer.
“Okay...maybe you’re right.” I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself.
She laughed quietly and took another drink before her expression gradually softened. The teasing disappeared, replaced by the concern she rarely tried to hide. She reminded me that I didn’t have to keep pushing myself until I had nothing left to give. I knew that. I’d known it for weeks.
The problem wasn’t understanding it. The problem was that I couldn’t afford to slow down. I told her I only needed to keep both jobs for a little while longer. If I could hold on long enough, things would eventually get easier. At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
She didn’t argue. She knew better than most people that there wasn’t much room to negotiate with rent, bills, and grocery prices. Sometimes working harder wasn’t a choice; it was simply the only way to stay afloat. Sofia let out a sigh before pushing herself away from the counter.
“Come on,” she said. “Our break starts in two minutes. I’m buying you a cinnamon roll before you tell me you’re too busy to eat again.”
I smiled despite myself and followed her toward the staff room. For a while the world felt small, familiar, and safe. After spending the afternoon running around and carrying trays back and forth across the café, it felt like someone had stopped time.
The staff room was small. There was a table, four chairs, and a refrigerator that made a loud humming noise. Sofia sat down in the chair across from me. She looked like she never got tired. I wrapped my hands around a mug of tea, letting the warmth seep into my fingers.
For a minute we didn’t say anything. The quiet was nice. We could hear the sounds of customers outside and the occasional clatter of dishes from the kitchen. I’d almost forgotten I had another shift waiting for me at the bar after this.
Sofia waited until we’d both settled with our drinks before steering the conversation toward my second job. There was genuine curiosity in her voice when she asked how things were going at the bar.
I smiled into my tea before answering. The bar was nothing like the café. It was louder, faster, and filled with people who belonged to a world I was only beginning to understand.
Even so, I told her I was getting used to it.
It was busy almost every night, but I was slowly finding my feet.
She didn’t respond straight away. Instead, she studied me over the rim of her cup as though she was trying to decide whether I truly believed what I’d just said.
A quiet laugh escaped me as I remembered my first night.
“I’ll admit...my first night at the bar could have gone better.”
One of her eyebrows lifted immediately, and the curiosity on her face deepened. “What happened?”
I told her about the accident with the beer and the customer. Or at least that was what I thought he was, until I saw him handling security every night at the bar. Sofia laughed so hard she began to cough.
“Please tell me you’re joking,” she said.
“I wish I was,” I replied. Looking back on it now, I could almost laugh, too. At the time it had felt like the end of the world. I’d been convinced I’d lose the job at the bar before my first shift was over.
“He was really nice about it. I couldn’t quite understand why.
I expected shouting, anger, maybe a complaint to the manager.
Instead he looked at me for a second, realized it was an accident, and just let it go.
I didn’t expect kindness from a stranger that night, especially not in a place like the bar, where everyone is so confident and intimidating. ”
Sofia’s smile faded. “You got lucky. Places like that bar can attract people who aren’t worth your time.
Most customers are probably fine, but all it takes is one person who’s had too much to drink or one man who thinks he can get away with anything.
If something doesn’t feel right, don’t stand there trying to be polite. Walk away. Let security deal with it.”
I nodded because there wasn’t much to say.
The advice wasn’t new. I’d been reminding myself to be careful every night since I started working at the bar.
Maybe that was why I found it difficult to relax until I walked out the doors at the end of each shift.
Sofia studied me for another moment before nodding, apparently satisfied.
Neither of us spoke after that. We finished our drinks in silence, listening as the noise outside the staff room slowly grew louder again. The post-lunch crowd had started arriving. Before long we would both be back on the café floor, smiling at customers and pretending our feet didn’t ache.
I glanced at the clock on the wall as the timer for our break ran out. A few hours remained before I would leave the café behind and hurry across the city to begin my shift at the bar. I couldn’t ignore the familiar feeling that my day was only half over.
***
My shift at the bar ended at midnight. I took off my apron and folded it neatly before putting it in my locker. Then I put on my cardigan, grabbed my bag, and said goodnight to everyone.
The city was really quiet. All I could hear was the hum of distant traffic. I’d walked home from work before, so I knew the way really well. Everything seemed normal as I walked past the pharmacy. For a minute, it felt like any other night. Then I heard footsteps behind me.
I didn’t think much of it at first. The sound of the footsteps just blended in with the sounds of the street. I kept walking without looking back. It wasn’t until I got to the next crossing that I realized I was still listening for the footsteps. I expected to hear them.
When the traffic light changed and a car drove by, the footsteps were still there. I frowned, because they’d been walking behind me for several blocks now.
As I turned the corner, I saw a dark sedan parked under a streetlamp.
The engine was running. Someone sat in the driver’s seat, looking at their phone.
If I’d seen the car during the day I probably wouldn’t have even noticed it, but for some reason I found myself thinking about it even after I passed it.