AN: So here I am, writing a TFA fanfiction (when I should be continuing my other works…) And this was all I could come up with. God forgive me. There's a lot of little details I've agonized over so I hope you don't hate me for what I decided on. That being said, constructive criticism is welcome, and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

It was only three hours into the work day, and already, Finn was exhausted. He wiped his brow with a rag as he finally finished polishing the last of the silver tables at the café he worked at. First Order of the Day was a fairly large business, and there were quite a few black and metallic surfaces to polish—and Finn was the one to do this daily. But it was not his only job. He did basically any manual labor that needed to be done, as well as just take orders and occasionally make drinks. Now, noticing that nobody was free to work the cash register as customers started to line up, he rushed over to take on the task.

"Sorry about the wait, what would you like sir?" he asked, a little breathlessly, as an elderly customer with a white beard glanced over the menu.

"Er…just a small black coffee, please."

"Alright, that'll be $3.73."

The man nodded and retrieved his wallet, but his brows furrowed as he fumbled through it. "Oh…oh dear, my wife must have taken my card with her when she went to the store yesterday….wait just a moment, I think I have…yes, here you go," he said, thrusting out three one-dollar bills.

"You're still short 73 cents, sir…" Finn said gently, cringing a little when the old man's face wrinkled into a look of worry as he couldn't seem to find any change from the raggedy wallet. Glancing around, the barista leaned forward, starting to go ahead and just hand the man his coffee anyway, but was interrupted by the familiar, brash voice of his co-worker, Phasma.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded. Finn was by no means short, but the older woman towered over him easily, looking down at him with disapproval.

"It's just a few cents, Phasma, come on…." Finn protested, but she was having none of it.

"Those few cents add up. The boss will notice it, don't think he won't," she said, her tone not malicious, but firm all the same. "Do you want to get fired?"

Finn was silent for a moment before starting to answer. "I…"

"What's going on? Why is the line being held up?" Finn's stomach flipped with dread as he heard another, much deeper voice now join in the already uncomfortable conversation. It was the manager, Kylo Ren. He was only a few years older than Finn and had absolutely no people skills to qualify him for such a job, and yet, he was still hired as the manager of this godforsaken place. Finn could only assume he was somehow related to the boss, but did not know as he had never actually seen the mysterious owner. Either way, Ren was definitely the worst out of all the unpleasant people Finn had to work with.

Reluctantly looking up to the pale, narrow face scowling at him, and then back at the anxious customer, Finn started to retrieve some change from his own wallet. "It's alright, sir, I got it—"

But before Finn could do anything, and without any warning, Ren snatched the cup off the counter and flung it into the nearest sink. The sound of the impact was loud enough to cause everyone in the café to jump.

"We don't need charity case customers who can't pay for themselves," he hissed at Finn before turning on the old man, whose jaw was still hanging open with shock. "Now get out!"

Finn, watching the humiliated customer scurry out the doors, clenched his fists at the irrational unfairness of it all.

This is absolutely insane. Nobody should have to deal with this, day in and day out.

It only took a few seconds for him to muster up the strength to do what he'd been wanting to do for months.

"You know what, fuck this. I'm out," he finally snapped, ripping off his First Order apron. Ren, who had started to stalk back to his office, whipped around to shoot him a scathing glare.

"What did you just say?"

"Fuck. This," Finn repeated, his lip curled with disgust. "And fuck you. I quit."

With that, he stormed out of the café, never to return again.

/

It did not take Finn long to find work elsewhere. In fact, it was another café, just across the street from his last job. La Résistance was much smaller and did not have as much fancy equipment as First Order of the Day, but it had a loyal clientele and a more comfortable air about it. Photos of various places and things lined the yellow walls. Little wooden tables and chairs were scattered around, of various shapes and sizes, all in decent condition but appearing as if they had been bought from a thrift store. In one corner was a chess table, a red armchair, and an orange couch. Everything was mismatched and yet it all helped to give the place a cozy, warm atmosphere.

As he walked in to ask if there were any jobs available, he was stunned to find he already knew someone there.

"Rey?"

The girl at the counter, a slender brunette with her hair in three loose buns, turned around with a look of confusion, before a smile of recognition spread across her face. "Finn?"

"I never thought I'd see you again!" he exclaimed, looking over her with wonder. The last time Finn had seen Rey, it was while he was still in the foster system as a fifteen year old kid. They had been in the same foster family for a couple of years. "How long has it been?"

She glanced behind her, making sure another coworker took over the cash register before she came out from behind the counter to embrace him. "Five years, I think," she said before letting go. "So how are you doing? I mean, where did you end up?"

"I got adopted when I was sixteen," he explained. "I'm doing pretty good. What about you?"

Rey's eyes shifted towards the floor as she gave a little shrug. "Well, I grew out of the system. But you know, I'm fine, I'm able to support myself and everything…" Quickly changing the subject, she looked back up at him, forcing a smile. "So are you just visiting town or…?"

"Oh no, I'm a student here at Starkiller."

"Me too! Wow, out of all the universities…"

"And all the cafés," he added with a small smile, trying not to stare too much. "I don't know how I haven't seen you before around here. I've been working just across the street for a few months…"

"With the enemy?" she said, crossing her arms with a teasing smirk. "How was that?"

Biting his lip, his first instinct was to lie and say it wasn't so bad, but this was Rey. He had always been honest with her, even if it wasn't always polite.

"It was horrible. My manager was a dick. Everyone kinda was, actually, but I mean he was absolute batshit—anyway, I just couldn't stand it anymore."

"Hm. I heard the staff was a bit rude, but I didn't know it was that bad."

"Yeah…I uh…was actually hoping to get a job here now…" As he said this, Rey's eyes lit up.

"Really? That would be awesome! We do need some more help around here…" she said, looking back to the coworker who had taken over at the counter. "Hey, Poe! Can you get Finn an application and show him around?"

Poe was a classically handsome young man with dark hair, a healthy tan, and a somewhat mischievous look about him. He flashed a stunning smile as he unabashedly looked Finn up and down before waving him over. "Of course. Come on, newbie."

The first place Poe lead Finn was to an office in the back. Opening the door without knocking, Finn found himself looking at someone who was likely to be his next boss.

"Finn, this is Madame Boss Lady. Madame Boss Lady, this is Finn."

"It's Leia, and you're lucky we're even on a first name basis, Poe," muttered the older woman as she stood up from her desk, a hand on her hip. Glancing over Finn, she continued, "I assume you want a job?"

"Yes ma'am," Finn nodded quickly. Leia chuckled a little at his eagerness. "Well by all means, I'm sure I can find something for you to do…"

As they walked out of the office, a framed photo on Leia's desk caught Finn's eye. He only saw it for a moment but could instantly register that it was a graduation picture, and the person in it was…

Is that…? He thought, trying to glance back to get another look, but the door had already shut. Even so, he knew exactly what he saw. He'd recognize that long nose and mop of black hair anywhere.

No fucking way…