The American dream is false. It's not only in novels that you bump into the good-looking kid from high school.

The alarm goes off and I grumble like 95% of my life in general. If you counted the amount of time I talk and the number of times I complainte, my Life would be summed up like this. The sun has already invaded the room and it's at least midday.

I'm hungry, thirsty and stressed.

Anita, the café manager, told me to come round around 6pm, which seems to be a quieter time, or at least one with regular customers who won't bother her. But I'm not sure she's reassured me with this information.

I get up, taking care to put my right foot in first so as to have a good day, happy to go to my future breakfast consisting of whatever I find in my cupboard in the next 5 minutes. Until I realise that I can say goodbye to croissants and pains au chocolat here, unless I want to be traumatised. My body cries out, my brain cries out for the lack of sugar and pastries. « Don't forget, the brain is gluco-dependent » my biology teacher kept telling me. I've learnt my lesson, Chef, more than I expected!

But the empty cupboards are a wake-up call, so I settle for an omelette that I make in a hurry, cut in half to save a piece for dinner. Note to self: buy sugar or anything made from it.

Aware that my life has been boring since I arrived — because apart from buying myself food and a new cuddly toy, and miraculously finding a job offer, I haven't done much — I decide to at least make an effort for the interview. I don't seem to have much competition but who knows, all it takes is one gorgeous hunk to turn up and charm Anita and POOF, I can kiss the job goodbye.

But if Cillian Murphy comes along, I'll hand him the job on a silver platter, with me as a bonus. He won't be able to resist the sex appeal of pilou-pilou slippers.

A little more serious, I get dressed, do my hair and make-up and realise that I still have countless hours to go before I reach the café. Of course, my gluco-dependent brain is screaming at me to go shopping and spend a fortune on biscuits, but my wallet is simply telling me to get lost.

I resolve to betray my brain and ally myself with my sworn enemy: the wallet. But the wallet isn't the only enemy, because it brings boredom with it. And as boredom grows, I decide to pick up a book I started on my flight, sit down on my little green sofa that I love, and read until the stress melts away.

***

It's a busy day in the city. It's sunny, it's warm, it's like being in the Maldives. Luckily, I can remember just about the route to the café, having taken the wrong street just once. Next objective: read the signs. So far, I'm beginning to believe in the American dream. All I need now is to get a job and find a handsome cowboy — because it seems to me that Fae don't exist in this world of mere humans —.

When I arrive at the café, it's not crowded; through the glass, a few people are reading their newspapers or working, just like the day before. The contrast between the world outside and the emptiness of the room is striking, but if it's usual, there's nothing to worry about.

The stress suddenly mounts, and I tell myself that I should have taken Rocky to comfort me, even though Anita had forbidden it.

I smooth out my pink dress with pink polka dots, take a deep breath, tell myself that an old lady can't eat me unless she's very hungry, and enter the café. Anita is at the counter, greeting me as I shakily enter.

« But it's our dear one and only candidate! Welcome back Eden » says Anita warmly.

« Hello madam » I replied, « and thank you for agreeing to this interview. »

« No madam here, I don't remember if I told you, but it's Anita! And it seems to me that yesterday you were a lot more tongue-tied and confident! Well, let's stop now and follow me, I'm going to ask you a few questions. »

I can feel the questioning looks of the customers following me as I follow Anita. She disappears from the counter to the back of the café, probably behind those wooden bead curtains. She's a little lady with greying afro hair, probably not much shorter than me but much more imposing. Her colourful clothes under her green apron stand out against her dark skin, as does her very cute pink lipstick. She looks quite severe, but her big round glasses give her a certain softness.

« Let's stop daydreaming and get moving! » she shouts.

I jump out of my skin and go round the back to join her. She took a seat at a desk in a small, very traditional white room, consisting mainly of shelves for paperwork. I sat down opposite her while she looked for some documents.

« So, I'm warning you, I don't want to spend three years on this recruitment thing, just like you I suppose, » she declares. « Now, I still have to set out the basics of the work and find out a little about your ambitions. »

« Don't worry, I'm listening and that's what I'm here for, I want this job, » I say with as much conviction as I can muster.

« First of all, it's a café where you have to serve customers. It's a big city, but there are a lot of regulars who won't let you havée shop with me just like that. Everyone will test you without you realising. The feeling has to be there straight away. I'm starting to have back problems, so it's no longer manageable for me to be on my own all day. »

If she has health problems, why does she always have to hold the coffee on her own? As if Anita had read my mind, she replies:

« This coffee is my life. It's the only important thing I've got left. I've done my best so far, but I can't pretend everything's fine any more. Although this is a city with students who don't go to university, most of them don't look for work and stay under mum and dad's skirts. These young people, I tell you, don't know the value of work any more... So as I need you, I've just got three questions to ask you and you've got the job. »

« I'll try to answer as best I can, even if I'm not necessarily the most qualified... »

« I don't care about qualifications! What matters to me here is you and what you're going to pass on to my customers, as well as the image you're going to give the café. So why do you need this job in the first place? »

I think about my words, for fear that it might be a trick question. She may promise me the job if I answer simply, but if I say anything she doesn't like, I'm in trouble.

« Well, I'm a foreigner. » I declare. « I just moved into my flat yesterday and I'm not studying, so to support myself I'll have to work. »

« Very well, that's enough for me » she agrees with a nod. « How old are you, sweetheart? »

« I'm 20 mada... Anita! »

Still very formal, she simply nods. She pauses for a moment, writing down what I say on a piece of paper. When she's finished, she speaks again.

« And finally, what makes you happy in life? »

What makes me happy in life? It's a strange question for an interview, but if she's asking me it must be important. But I don't really see how my answer will help her make her decision.

« What makes me happy isn't very difficult, » I reply. « There are books, colours, animals, cuddly toys and anything that looks remotely like something weird. »

« Weird? » she wonders.

« I love running dinosaur toys and Pokémon clothes. »

This time she bursts out laughing like the day before, shedding a few tears in the process. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, so I'll refrain from commenting.

By the time she had recovered from her emotions, my apprehension was mounting. I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket and discreetly looked at it. My mother's name was displayed large. I didn't look any further and hung up straight away.

« You're in ! » exclaimed Anita, clapping her hands. « You start tomorrow at 10 o'clock if that suits you. As I have no other employees, you won't be working on Wednesdays and Sundays. »

« But I don't mind working on Wednesdays, you know, at least in the mornings I wouldn't have much to do... »

« You say that now because you don't know anyone, but as soon as a charming young man joins the party, you'll be begging me to give you plenty of time off to fool around with him. »

« That's not true, I've got no plans to do that! »

« Go on, beat it, you've got better things to do on a Friday night than hang around with an old lady. »

She led me to the service room of the café, where the customers hadn't moved an inch. On the way, all I did was thank her for the opportunity, at the risk of being reprimanded. In the end, I really don't doubt the American dream any more.

« Go away or I'll throw you out, little Eden! »

I turn towards the door to avoid the wrath of the old lady as soon as I'm hired, but someone is in my way. Or at least I'm in her path. As I wasn't looking ahead, we collided with a certain violence that made me take a few steps back.

« Oh, excuse me! I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm so sorry.. ».

The tall dark-haired man with the serious look on his face looks me up and down, without even hiding it, and ends up smiling very slightly after his inspection. I insist on the very slight.

« No worries. »

The man passes, leaving me standing in the doorway, my cheeks redder than Anita's T-shirt. I turn round reflexively but he goes off to sit in an empty seat and picks up a newspaper without giving me the slightest glance. When I finally emerge from the café, I'm still peony red and dead ashamed. The urge to hit me is so strong. When did my life become a romance novel?