With the constant rush of orders that followed, Cora had almost forgotten about the unruly customer. That is, until she saw a hand reaching for the cup in her peripheral vision, and she turned to see the menace themselves squinting at the annotated order on the side of the cup. If they wanted confirmation it was theirs, Cora wasn't going to assist unprompted. It wasn't a surprise when they walked away without a word, and Cora was relieved—for a grand total of six seconds.

"Hey!" the menace said from beside her, then smacked the handoff counter a few times when Cora didn't immediately kowtow at their feet. "Lady!"

Cora took one deep inhale and one long exhale before turning towards them. She didn't bother faking a smile.

"Serious question," the customer snapped, "but do you not understand simple English? Do I need to bring a translator the next time I come here?"

The entire store went quiet. Cora didn't know if it was just the buzzing in her ears drowning out all the noise, or if the long line of patrons actually stopped talking to witness the scene unfolding before them. All Cora knew was that her pulse was rising, her body was shaking, and for once, it wasn't because she was scared. No, it was because she was livid.

"I said I wanted this extra hot," the customer continued, waving the cup at Cora's face. "This is lukewarm, at best. Or maybe you can't read the thermometer? I thought numbers were the same in every country."

After a beat, just to make sure she was hearing their audacity correctly, Cora stood tall—as tall as her nearly six-foot stature would let her. "It was extra hot—when I initially made it eighteen minutes ago." Then, because she couldn't take it anymore, "The laws of thermodynamics exist in every country too."

If the menace's drink wasn't hot enough, it only took a few seconds for their face to get there, burning with anger. "What the hell did you just say to me? Do I need to go back there and show you how to do your job? Maybe show you how to respect the people giving you money?"

Fear spiked in Cora's heart for a moment—but once that passed, and her confidence returned, Cora continued.

"This is a family-friendly environment," she said. "Please remember that there are children around."

"What? Is there something wrong with me having an opinion about your shitty service?" The menace scoffed. "I'm the customer. I'm allowed to talk to you and that weakass kid over there however I want because you chose to work for me and the rest of this community, no matter how crappy this mall is."

Cora clenched her mouth shut, but only to prevent incomprehensible fury from slipping through her lips. But once she regained control over her words, she didn't hold back. She didn't want to hold back any longer.

"While you have a right to your opinion, so do I," Cora said, her voice surprisingly steady as her mind shook with rage. "And I'm allowed to tell you that I don't appreciate your tone or your words towards my colleague and me. So you can either take your drink and leave now, or you can stay, continue to make a fool of yourself, and leave with security." She paused, tilting her head. "What's it going to be?"

In the stunned silence that followed, Cora had never felt so liberated, at least not while she was on the clock. As soon as her words left her, they took the floodgates of her stress with them, and the more seconds that passed, the lighter Cora felt. Sure, maybe she had just gotten herself fired, but at that moment, she couldn't bring herself to care. While that would probably change once her adrenaline ran out, just then, she wanted to experience how it felt to finally speak her mind—to finally do what she wanted.

A harsh bark of laughter broke the silence, and the menace of a customer shook their head in disbelief, keeping their furious stare on Cora. As their hands began to tremble and their expression turned maniacal, their threat to go behind the counter rang in Cora's ears. While she braced herself to run and envisioned her surroundings for potential defensive measures, she didn't move, not wanting to aggravate the wild animal in front of her.

She expected something to fly over the counter—whether that be spit or the customer themselves was up in the air. While she prepared for the latter, ready to scramble backwards to create some distance, she didn't expect to receive the drink in their hand instead.

At the first sign of the customer's arm moving, Cora's hands were already rising to shield the rest of her. As soon as they felt something solid, her fingers wrapped around it. It took her a few more seconds to realize she actually caught something, and for that something to be the allegedly subpar drink. Sure, some of the liquid splashed out of the askew lid and splattered onto her hands and apron, but it was a surprisingly clean catch considering the circumstances. And hey, bonus, she gained a new weapon.

After Cora blinked at it a few times to ensure she wasn't imagining the drink in her hand, she looked up at the customer to find them staring at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. Cora, just as speechless, remained quiet, letting the residual coffee drip from her sticky fingers and onto the floor. It felt like ages before the customer finally huffed, and with one last scowl, they stormed out.

Cora stared at the menace's departing figure. Were they really gone? Was this really over?

Whoops and cheers startled Cora out of her shock. The long line of customers were applauding as they watched their unruly predecessor disappear into the food court crowd, their glee interspersed with annoyed comments to their neighbors over their shared pain. When some of them turned to Cora with condolences, Cora replied with sheepish thanks and apologies as she assessed the store's situation. Everything looked normal for the middle of a rush, perhaps even better since the crowd sympathized with their baristas. With a long sigh of relief, Cora turned back to the handoff counter, only to freeze at the sight that met her there.

"Farron?"

Farron stared at her from the other side of the counter, decked out in their neon green and orange Fruitastic uniform with their expression a mixture of shock and something Cora couldn't read. As their wide eyes drifted down to Cora's hands, their lips remained slightly parted and their brows furrowed even further.

"Cora," they said, their voice urgent and breathless. "Your hands."

Confused, Cora followed their gaze towards her coffee-covered hands—along with the pink splotches of skin beneath the mocha liquid.

"Oh, that's hot," Cora muttered as she carefully set the drink down, then dabbed her hands against her damp apron. While she did feel a slight sting, it wasn't too bad. Maybe the menace had a point about the beverage's temperature.

"No kidding," Farron said, but they sounded more stressed than annoyed as their eyes scanned the barrier before them.

Before Cora could question it, Farron vaulted over the counter and made a beeline for the sink, turning the water on full blast and holding their fingers beneath the stream.

Cora stared at Farron, then the four-foot-tall handoff counter, then back at Farron. "Farron! What are you doing?"

"It's only a matter of time before that starts hurting," Farron said, beckoning Cora over with their free hand as they lowered the water pressure with the other. "This should be cold enough. Keep them under this for a bit."

"It's really not that bad," Cora said, but she still followed Farron's instructions, letting them guide her hands under the water if only to feel their fingers wrap around her wrists. "They said it was lukewarm."

"I heard," Farron mumbled, their tone low and their eyes fixed on the rushing stream of water.

Cora froze at the fury in their voice. The angry customer was one thing, but Farron? She hadn't been prepared for that.

"Are..." Cora swallowed the lump in her throat. "Are you mad?"

She was watching Farron carefully enough to see them flinch at the question, and while it took a few seconds for them to face Cora, their expression had softened and their gaze was warm.

"Sorry," they whispered, their thumb brushing over Cora's wrist. "I'm mad, but not at you—definitely not at you. It's just..."

They sighed roughly, turning to the basin to take a deep breath before facing Cora again. "It's that customer. I heard the tail end of what they said to you, and it just...it made me so angry. To hear someone talking to you like that, saying things you'd never deserve to hear... I was pissed off. And I was just about to step in and tell them off myself."

Then, Farron's expression softened even more, and their tight frown eventually lifted into a small smile. "As it turns out, you did that all on your own."

While Cora still hadn't fully registered the burns on her hands, she could definitely feel the heat rising in her cheeks, along with her heart pounding in her chest.

Cora forced out a chuckle, and her eyes wandered to Kevin scrambling to take orders at the register. "It was nothing. I may have gotten a little carried away actually."

"Hardly. Everything you did and said was justified. And Cora." Farron didn't continue until Cora turned back to them, welcoming the return of her gaze with a wide smile. "I'm proud of you. You were amazing, and I'm so happy I get to call you my girlfriend."

If Cora's blushing wasn't visible by then, it didn't take long for that to change, and she lowered her head to hide it.

"Thanks," she said, unable to hold back a grin that mirrored Farron's own. "I guess it did feel pretty good to stand up for myself."

"And you deserve that, the chance to stand up for yourself, and to be proud." Farron lifted a hand to Cora's face, then gently tucked some of her hair behind her ear. "I know I am."

As Cora was busy smiling, straining her aching cheeks, Farron gave her a sly grin. "You know, Fruitastic is looking for new managers and assistant managers. Maybe you could throw your Cool Beans flat cap in the ring, just to test the waters, if anything."

At first, Cora balked at the idea of becoming a Cool Beans traitor—an infamous Bad Bean—especially after all her years of dedication to her job. But simply submitting an application to the enemy wasn't a crime. If anything, she would be helping Cool Beans by taking up some of Fruitastic's resources.

"You know what? I think I will," Cora said, grinning as Farron's eyes went wide in response.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a soft cough from behind Cora.

"Uh...sorry to interrupt," Kevin said. "But I kind of need a little help here."

Farron glared at him. "You seem to be doing fine."

"And I think I'm fine too," Cora said, then laughed when Farron's glare turned to her. "I am, really, but thank you."

When Cora slid one of her hands out from the rushing water, Farron's frown deepened, only to vanish when Cora used it to hold one of their arms.

"Thank you for caring about me," Cora whispered. "And thank you for helping me be brave enough to do..." she nodded towards the handoff counter, "all of that."

After a wide-eyed pause, Farron smiled, shaking their head. "That wasn't me. That was all you. And you deserve to be proud."

Cora nodded, but as thrilled as she was about her success of the day, she wasn't sure how long that feeling would last. But even after Farron left—sneaking out the backroom with one final wink, nothing changed. Even after Cora returned to making drinks, and even after her adrenaline from the rush wore off, she still felt that new warmth bubbling in her chest, just as strong as before. She was proud—and she loved it.