Son of Light

CHAPTER 8

Michelle looked up as Kelvin approached, her eyes searching for good news. "So, what happened? Did you get the job?" she asked, her voice a mix of hope and anxiety.

Kelvin managed a small smile, nodding. "Yes, I start tomorrow. It's going to be okay, Michelle. We'll make it through this," he reassured her, though the memory of Mr. Johnson's warning kept ringing in his mind.

****

The morning came with the usual bustle of Aridolia, the city waking up to the sound of cars and the distant hum of machines working non-stop. Kelvin was jolted awake by these loud noises, reminding him that today was his first day on a new job, a chance to change things for him and Michelle.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Kelvin Searched through his bag, looking for something decent to wear. He pulled out the shirt his mom had given him a few months back before everything turned upside down. It wasn't much to look at, faded and a bit too large for him, but to Kelvin, it was perfect. The shirt was a pale blue, almost gray now, with buttons that had seen better days. But it was the last piece of clothing his mom had chosen for him, and wearing it made him feel closer to her.

As he buttoned up the shirt, he caught Michelle's eye. "Do I look okay?" he asked, a bit self-conscious.

Michelle nodded, a small smile breaking through. "You look great, Kelvin. Mom would be proud."

Kelvin smiled back, the warmth of the memory of his mom giving him strength. Wrapping the Seraph's Veil around his neck like a scarf, he felt a surge of determination.

"Okay, I'm off. I'll be back as soon as I can," he told Michelle, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

"Good luck, Kelvin! You'll do great!" Michelle called out as he hurried away, her voice full of encouragement.

Kelvin's heart raced as he neared the restaurant.

The Sunrise Cafe looked inviting, with its warm, glowing lights that spilled out onto the street, cutting through the morning's slight chill. The sign above the entrance, a cheerful red and gold, swung gently in the breeze, creaking softly. The windows, framed with wooden shutters, showcased the bustling activity inside, promising a lively atmosphere and delicious meals. Pots of green plants flanked the doorway, adding a touch of liveliness to the place.

As he stepped closer, he could see through the large front window the neatly arranged tables inside, each covered with a crisp, white tablecloth and set with shiny silverware. The walls were adorned with pictures of famous landmarks from around the world, giving the place an international flair.

Kelvin was almost caught off guard when he heard Mr. Johnson's voice boom across the parking lot. "Hey, trouble!" Mr. Johnson's hefty figure was outlined against the light streaming from the open door of the restaurant. Kelvin hesitated at first, not keen on responding to the nickname 'trouble,' but then, gathering his will, he straightened his posture and approached Mr. Johnson, hands held behind his back.

"I see you're early today, init? My eyes are on you. Make sure you don't mess up. If you do, I hope my dogs' teeth look good on ya," Mr. Johnson warned, his tone half-serious, half-jesting, though the threat behind his words was clear.

Kelvin gulped, feeling the weight of Mr. Johnson's gaze on him. He managed a stiff nod, replying with as much confidence as he could muster, "Yes, sir! I won't let you down."

Mr. Johnson grunted, seemingly satisfied with Kelvin's response, and turned to head inside, leaving Kelvin to his job.

Kelvin's first day at the “Sunrise Cafe” started with a rush of customers eager for their morning coffee and breakfast. With a deep breath, Kelvin dove into his work, his nervousness giving way to a determined focus. He greeted each customer with a shy but genuine smile, quickly learning to balance multiple orders in his head.

"Good morning! What can I get started for you today?" he asked, his voice growing more confident with each interaction. Customers, some in a hurry, others more leisurely, responded with their orders, and Kelvin listened attentively, repeating each order back to ensure accuracy.

As the morning sun climbed higher, the restaurant filled with a mix of regulars and newcomers. Kelvin moved between tables, taking orders, serving food, and clearing dishes with a grace that surprised even himself. "Here you go, one pancake breakfast and a black coffee. Can I get you anything else?" he asked, placing the dishes down with care.

Mr. Johnson, from his vantage point behind the counter, kept a close eye on Kelvin, half-expecting the boy to slip up or sneak a bite of the food. But Kelvin was too focused on his tasks, too aware of the responsibility he carried, not just for himself but for Michelle as well.

Throughout the morning, Kelvin encountered all sorts of customers. Some were kind and patient, offering him encouraging smiles. Others were less so, quick to complain or demand attention. Kelvin handled each situation with a calm he didn't know he possessed, apologizing for any delays and ensuring every customer left satisfied.

"Excuse me, sir, I'm sorry about the wait on your coffee. I'll have it right out for you," he said to a particularly impatient customer, rushing back to the counter to expedite the order.

As lunchtime approached, the pace picked up even further. Kelvin felt like he was in a dance, moving from table to kitchen to counter and back again, his steps quickening but never faltering. He took orders, recommended the daily specials with a bit more flair, and even managed to upsell desserts, a trick he picked up by listening to his more experienced coworkers.

"The apple pie is fantastic here, freshly made every morning. Would you like a slice with your coffee?" he suggested, his eyes bright with confidence.

All the while, Mr. Johnson watched, his initial mistrust slowly turning into reluctant admiration. Kelvin didn't know it, but he was passing the test with flying colors, showing a work ethic and honesty that impressed even the gruff owner.

By the time the afternoon break arrived, Kelvin had served dozens of customers, each interaction adding to his confidence and skill. He took a brief moment to catch his breath, wiping down a table as he glanced around the now quieter restaurant. He had made it through the morning rush, and though he was tired, there was a sense of accomplishment in his heart.

Mr. Johnson finally approached him, his expression unreadable. Kelvin braced himself for criticism, but instead, Mr. Johnson grunted, "Not bad for your first day, kid. Keep it up." It wasn't much, but coming from Mr. Johnson, it felt like high praise.

Kelvin smiled, nodding in gratitude. "Thank you, sir. I'll do my best."

****

After three months of hard work at the Sunrise Cafe, Kelvin had not only earned Mr. Johnson's trust but also a special place in his heart. Mr. Johnson, seeing Kelvin's dedication and honesty, started to rely on him more, entrusting him with more responsibilities around the restaurant.

However, not everyone was happy with Kelvin's success. There was a guy named Marcus, who had been working at the Sunrise Cafe for over a year. Marcus was tall and lean, with sharp features and a constant frown that seemed etched into his face. His hair was always unkempt, and he carried himself with a sort of sloppiness that contrasted sharply with Kelvin's tidy appearance.

Marcus felt slighted by Mr. Johnson's apparent favoritism towards Kelvin. He believed that his longer time at the cafe should have earned him that trust and responsibility, not this newcomer. This feeling of injustice brewed a deep envy and resentment within Marcus.

One busy morning, as Kelvin was organizing the stock room, Marcus sauntered in, a sneer on his face. "Look at you, the boss's pet. Just because you suck up to Johnson doesn't mean you're better than anyone here," Marcus taunted, his voice dripping with disdain.

Kelvin, taken aback by the sudden confrontation, replied calmly, "I'm not trying to be better than anyone, Marcus. I'm just doing my work. That's all."

Marcus scoffed, "Doing your work, huh? Or doing whatever it takes to steal my position? I've been here longer than you, kid. I deserve respect and those responsibilities, not you."

Kelvin sighed, not wanting to escalate the situation. "I respect that, Marcus. I respect all the work you've done here. But I'm not here to steal anything from anyone. Mr. Johnson makes those decisions, not me."

But Marcus was not in the mood to listen. Day after day, he looked for ways to undermine Kelvin, either by hiding his orders, messing up his workstation, or badmouthing him to other employees.