Vantage Point

The first time Tanya saw me, she froze. She was walking in with her colleague, saying something to her, a broad smile on her lips. She saw me, and froze, but only for a fraction of a second. Then she continued talking as if nothing had happened, still smiling, still the usual confident, magnetic Tanya that everyone knew.

She was almost as good at pretending as me.

I gave them a professionally friendly smile when they walked to the counter.

'Hi, I'm Matt. What can I get you?'

Tanya's coworker, a petite blond with lively features, smiled back.

'Hi, Matt! I'll have a large hazelnut latte with almond milk. And a chocolate chip cookie!'

I looked at Tanya.

'And for you, miss?'

Her smile was polite, but cold.

'Double espresso, please. No milk, no sugar.'

I put their orders into the system and produced two plastic cups and a black marker.

'And who should I put it for?'

The blond was the first to speak:

'I'm Angie!'

Tanya was silent for a couple of seconds, looking at me. Then she said:

'Tanya.'

I wrote their names on the cups and passed them along.

'Your coffee will be ready in two minutes. Have a great day!'

Before they left, Tanya stopped and turned to me.

'Are you new here, Matt?'

I chuckled.

'Man, is it that obvious? Yeah, it's my first week.'

She nodded and turned away.

As they were walking through the door, her friend had whispered something in her ear, looked at me, and laughed.

#

The second time, she didn't even glance at me. I chatted with Angie a little while they were waiting for their orders, and through all of it, Tanya was on her phone, typing something with practiced speed. She looked up once, to take her coffee, and there was complete indifference in her eyes. But when I turned away to speak to another customer, I felt her watching me with furious intensity.

The third time they came in, I greeted them by name.

'Ah! Hello, Angie and Tanya. Let me guess -- one hazelnut latte with almond milk, one cookie, and one double espresso?'

Tanya gave me a cold, calculating look.

'Actually, how about a macchiato?'

'Great choice! Coming right up.'

A corner of her mouth moved little.

'Why, thank you, Matt.'

And so it went.

#

The last notes of 'Chilled to the Bone' hung in the air, grew quiet and died. I opened my eyes, enveloped in satisfied exhaustion. Claire let go of her guitar and screamed:

'Fuck yeah! That was amazing, guys!'

Ted was massaging his wrists, grinning. Dylan sat down, kicked his feet up, and exhaled loudly. Nelly gave him a thumbs up.

'Like, perfect! Best one so far!'

Claire spun on one leg, crashed on a plastic chair, and raised her hands dramatically:

'And the award for best fucking band ever goes to -- trumpets, drum roll, gasps in the audience! -- the Coffee Bandit! Come on to the stage, guys!'

She tried to do her best impression of Dylan.

'Oh wow, this is so unexpected. I really haven't prepared a speech. I want to thank my mom and dad, our manager Gabrielle, God, and, of course, our genius songwriter Claire, without whom we would all be still moping in a garage somewhere.'

Dylan looked at her with amusement.

'What's is our manager called, again?'

'Gabrielle. She's, like, this artsy chick with awesome tattoos or something. Or maybe it's an old alcoholic dude, a legendary producer, who got disappointed in the industry and left, but then accidentally heard us playing in a bar and found faith in music again.'

Dylan smiled.

'Cool.'

'Anyway. I think we deserved a little celebration. What do you think, guys? Shall we hit the cafeteria? Stale donuts for everyone, on me!'

It's hard to say no to a free donut, so we all stood up and started gathering our equipment. Ted asked:

'Will Sam be joining us?'

Ted had a little crush on Sam, anthropology-wise, and never missed an opportunity to start a scientific dispute with him. I found it extremely annoying.

Claire shrugged.

'I think he's grading papers today, or something. Or just enjoying the company of actual adults for once. Anyway, we're on our own.'

Even better.

In the cafeteria, we sat at our usual table. Claire somehow managed to forage an actual cake, and we each got a piece.

'Come on, people, you deserved it!'

She tasted the cake and closed her eyes in absolute delight.

'Oh, shit. Fuck yeah, cake. I think I'm about to have an orgasm, guys. You have to try it.'

With that recommendation, it wasn't long before the whole cake disappeared. It was indeed quite good.

I thought about the Protectors spying on me. The campus was one of the few places they wouldn't follow me, possibly because it would be hard for them to blend in with the students. But I remembered what the Protector said on the day I met Mitchel for the first time. This whole place was wired with security cameras, so they probably were watching me on a monitor. Poor bastards. They must be constantly cold and sore from sitting all night in the car with the engine turned off. And hungry.

I've decided to enjoy the cake for the camera.

'Jesus, Matt. I said try it, not make love to it.'

I grinned, chocolate crumbs on my lips.

'It's a good damn cake.'

Then I added:

'Life is short. Better enjoy it while it lasts.'

Dylan raised his plate in solidarity.

'Amen. By the way, I still can't believe that you quit your job at the bar, Matt.' He blew on his honey tea. 'It suited you so much. And I got mad points in class for being friends with a bartender. People thought I'm cool.'

Ted laughed.

'Is that why you let that atrocity spawn on your face?'

Dylan scratched his beard, unfazed.

'No.'

Claire kicked him under the table.

'You see it all wrong, Dylan. Matt had just evolved from a sexy bartender to a cute barista. These days it's, like, as cool as you can get.'

She shook her head.

'Although I'm still unclear on who would pay him to make coffee. It's a miracle.'

Ted dropped a coin he was playing with, picked it up again, made it disappear between his fingers.

'So, Matt. What's the business elite like? Are they all as groomed, tan, tight-bodied and suave as in all those TV shows?

I shrugged.

'They're okay, I guess. Some are nice, sure.'

He grinned.

'Anyone in particular?'

Nelly gave him a little shove.

'What? I'm just sayin', a guy who gives you coffee is, like, automatically twice as attractive as any other guy. Believe me, I know. Hell, that's how Matt and Claire met in the first place!'

Claire chuckled.

I wanted her to be flustered. I wanted her to be pissed, or jealous. I wanted an awkward pause, but instead she leaned forward and said:

'Listen, guys. I've been considering stuff, and I think we're ready for a gig.'

She had forgotten Ted's joking insinuations already.

Dylan raised an eyebrow.

'A gig? Really?'

We were all surprised. It's not that we had not thought about performing in front of people, it's just that we hadn't thought of performing... already. The thought was scary, but exciting.

'Sure, why not? We're good, we play well together. We have enough original material for half an hour or so, and plenty of covers in the arsenal. It'll be splendid!

Dylan scratched his beard again, thoughtful.

'I guess. But then, who would even want us to perform? No one knows who we are.'

Claire gave him a mischievous smile.

'Leave that to me. I have a plan.'

Nelly made a questioning sign, but Claire just grinned.

Ted winked at them.

'How about Matt puts his coffee-making skills and natural charm to good use and seduces some rich lawyer into becoming our sponsor?'

Nelly gave him another shove.

'Ouch! Nel! Stop this wraithlike behavior at once! Am I right, Matt?

I smiled, and nodded, and said nothing.

#

The next day, I was in the coffee shop early. I was always the first one to come and the last one to leave, mostly because Tanya worked insane hours at her law firm, and I needed to watch her. But it got me points with the manager, which was nice.

My phone buzzed. It was Mickey, reporting that she was on her way to work.

I loaded the grinding machines with beans and performed other menial tasks, waiting for the morning crowd to appear. My coworkers showed up one after another, greeting me with bewilderment.

'Jesus, Matt. How can you be so... energized this early in the morning? Don't you ever sleep?'

I had no time for sleep. I was on a mission. I was in battle mode. There was a star burning with cold hatred in my chest, and it pumped molten silver through my veins.

The Protectors were watching me from a parking garage two buildings down the road.

I poured myself some coffee, settled behind the register and waited.

Usually, I would see Tanya enter the glass tower somewhere around 7:30. On most days, her husband would drop her off, but sometimes she was the one driving. On these days, she used to park in the same parking garage the Protectors were using as a vantage point, and walk to the tower from there.

Then, closer to lunch, she and Angie would sometimes come for coffee.

But today everything went differently. Her husband did drop her off in front of the entrance to the office. She was wearing a white coat, brown leather gloves, and a beautiful silk scarf. I saw her kiss her husband and wave him goodbye. But when the car pulled away, she didn't go inside. Instead, she waited a little, then turned around and crossed the street, heading straight for the coffee shop.

She came inside, looked around, and walked to the register.

I put on the mask of an eager barista.

'Hi! What can I get you?'

She leaned close, looked me in the eyes, and said:

'Alright, "Matt". What the fuck do you want?'