Inspired by the 'tired, grumpy worker, and hispter with the ridiculous coffee order' tweet.

Friday morning, 8.07a.m.

As the door to the dimly lit coffee shop dings, the redhead shoots a glance towards whoever has just entered. "You're late!" She flings him a green apron, which he somehow catches one handed.

"My car broke down," he shrugs nonchalantly, lazily dressing himself with the garment that he had just caught.

"Dean, you bike to work." She deadpans, giving him the utmost 'done with your shit' look.

"Eh," he simply replies, walking around to join her behind the counter.

Their other two colleagues are busy cleaning the tables inside the small living room type shop, so that they can turn around the 'closed' sign – seven minutes after they're supposed to. At first, they barely get any customers... Which isn't a bad thing.

Dean lounges around behind the counter, letting his good friend Charlie take their early morning orders – and he'll grumble something whenever she calls out an order for him to make. Just as he feels his eyes closing, and his elbows pressing against the cold worktop, the sound of someone clearing their throat interprets him mid-yawn.

There's a young man standing just a few metres away from him – wearing a lot of denim, and a pair of thick, black glasses – who is currently tapping his fingers impatiently against the sketchbook that's held in his arms. "Excuse me? I'm assuming from from apron that you do in fact work here," the blue eyes flit down to Dean's work uniform, and then back up to his half asleep eyes.

Blinking once at the customer, he looks across to see that one of his colleagues is watching him – a.k.a the only worker who actually likes the manager, and vice versa – so, he hurriedly straightens his posture up. "Sorry, uh.. Sir. What can I get ya?" Dean rubs his eyes, and then tries his best to smile.

"I want a large iced caramel macchiato, hold the caramel drizzle and the ice. I want my moneys worth if I'm paying 5 bucks for this... and I want three shots of espresso – oh, and skimmed milk instead of whatever the hell they poured for me last time.. and, make it quick – I got a class in fifteen minutes."

When the guy had parted his lips to speak just a few seconds ago, Dean certainly wasn't expecting that to leave his mouth. Unsure of what on earth to fire back, he turns around to see that Charlie is trying her hardest not to burst out laughing at what the pair of them aren't even sure they heard correctly.

Turning back to the student again, he stares judgingly at the Barista. "Well?" His head cocks to the side, and his eyebrows raise upwards.

"Coming right up, princess." Dean rolls his eyes as dramatically as humanly possible, before turning away from the pompous customer. Grabbing a notepad, he hurriedly scribbles down the order, and then gets to making it.

As he waits for the water to fill one of the plastic cups, Charlie nudges him with her elbow. "He's cute," she comments, whilst taking the ice scoop out of Dean's hand, tapping the part on the notepad where he had jotted down 'NO ICE!'

Mentally face palming himself, Dean scoffs slightly. "He's a dick," he responds.

Switching off the tap for the water, he moves along to adding the shots of coffee. Charlie follows in pursuit, reaching down into the fridge for the skimmed milk. She pours it into the cup, and then stirs. "Yeah, but... Cute." The redhead shrugs, readjusting her apron.

"And, a prick!" Dean snaps back at her, yawning straight afterwards.

"Mr. Grumpy has gotta stop cramming all of his freakin' studying in the night hours!" Her whisper-shout almost causes him to jump... Charlie never really snaps at anyone, unless they need it.

Apologising to his friend, Dean swirls the coffee around the cup. Placing a lid on top of it, he finally faces the unhappy faced customer at the front of the line. "There ya go, here's your coffee with the hold the this and that's... Enjoy your art class, or whatever." He puts the beverage down on the counter with one swift movement of his hand, and then holds it Palm upwards for the money.

His eyes bore through the customer, as he picks up the drink and inspects it – as if looking at a diamond, in order to see whether or not it's fake. Eventually, he hands Dean a five dollar bill. "Thanks... No need to look so grumpy though. It really doesn't hurt to smile once in a while," the guy informs, but before anything witty can leave Dean's mouth, the sound of the tinkling bell rings... And, the mysterious student is gone.