Piers Nivans

You loved the aesthetics of the morning coffee shop. It's a shame that you haven't seen any comfortable coffee shops bathed in morning or evening soft light before. Until the last three months. A start-up company has provided a small, cozy place near your home. The coffee was really excellent there, you have never tasted tastier, the place was successfully painted and caught all the sun's rays, but you did not like one person from there. "Pierce Nivans" read his badge. He is a short-tempered, especially in the morning, guy with a bestially cute appearance. He did not arrange disputes in the workplace, but while on vacation, he cursed his colleagues so much. It is good that this coffee shop had a self-service cash register. It's a shame that it was temporarily left for repair. But right now you want coffee and right now you're half of it. You confidently approach the cash register, grab a mint candy. – We only give out sweets with the order, – you feel sick of this tedious tone. "Sir, I'm ordering,– you say. Pierce seemed about to roll his eyes, but restrained himself. You name what you want to receive in the order and make the payment. It seems that another person who was responsible for making coffee did not come to the workplace, so Pierce sighed heavily and disappeared into the kitchen. After a couple of minutes, he comes and puts a dark brown tray with a plastic cup on it right on your table. He doesn't bring coffee as close to anyone as he does to you, and there are reasons for that. –I'm asking you to be careful," it sounded kind of mean. You remember how a couple of months ago you tipped a coffee almost boiling on your hand during a Pier change. You don't know how much they wrote off this poor guy, but the skin had to be transplanted. You realize that you've lost yourself in your thoughts, and he's already disappeared from your table.