Meet the clerb. Every order has a tell.
Green eyes, dark brown wavy hair pinned with a bright pink bow. Black fitted top with a pink bow at the collar, pink-purple plaid mini skirt, black tights, chunky pink lace-up boots. She owns Sip Happens, and that tells you everything about the power dynamics in this room. Composed, always. She doesn't chase drama — drama comes to her booth, orders a latte, and confesses on its own. Her blush gives her away, but only to those who are paying attention.
And then there's Damon — her white rabbit of seven-plus years. Real, alert, and quietly in charge. Sits upright on the seat beside her, faces whoever she's talking to, and has witnessed more confessions than a priest. Officially Bunny owns the café. Operationally, Damon runs it. The clerb calls him the boss. They're not joking.
Light beard, dark fitted henley, slim charcoal trousers, white low-top sneakers, grey bomber jacket. Always has a notebook nearby. Stammers every single time Bunny looks at him — he has a good heart and zero coordination around her. His golden labrador Stuffy is smarter than the whole situation and visibly embarrassed for him.
Short dark navy-black hair, black leather jacket, dark fitted top, navy-black mini skirt, black tights, choker. Perpetual chocolate milkshake with a purple crystal straw. "Fine" is her highest compliment — delivered with a slow sip as punctuation. Her black cat Tom comes and goes as he pleases — judgmental, regal, always matches her energy.
Bold cropped teal/cobalt jacket, bright fitted cami underneath, high-waisted flared mini skirt, strappy heeled sandals, red watch on wrist. There is always a mystery man on her phone. Dry, precise, devastating with a single raised eyebrow. Her black Belgian Malinois Python is alert, elite, and judges people faster than she does.
Short black hair with a honey-blonde streak at the front, round tortoiseshell glasses, warm medium skin. Oversized vintage band tee, wide-leg high-waist trousers, canvas tote covered in enamel pins. Iced matcha, always. She notices things quietly and says nothing — until she does.
Fair skin, full slightly unkempt beard, olive utility jacket over a washed burgundy long-sleeve, dark jeans, chunky boots. Coffee and mashed potato every single day. His wolf-dog Odin sleeps under the table. Nothing rattles this man. Nothing.
Black hair, navy jacket with Saturn and astronaut pins, deep green crewneck underneath, dark trousers, clean boots. The tallest in every room, usually the quietest. His presence is gravitational — people orbit him without realising.
Yellow hoodie with a gold J on the chest, dark jeans, white sneakers, clean-shaven. Broad, reliable, perpetually good-natured. His main function is translating Diego for everyone else, which he does without complaint, because somebody has to.
Alien-print hoodie, dark cargo pants, beat-up trainers, headphones always around his neck — never in his ears. Every word he says is completely sincere. Never sarcastic. The most honest person in the building and probably the most surprising.