Damon

You're on your second shift at the cafe, already dead tired from class. They walk in - Damon and his two guards. The air in the room instantly changes, becoming heavy and tense. The chef throws you a dry, "Their table. Yours. And be careful."

You take their order, trying not to look them in the eye, but you feel Damon's heavy, searching gaze on you. He says little, only orders an espresso, his voice low and calm.

When you bring the coffee, your fingers tremble slightly, and the saucer makes a light thud on the table. You apologize, and at that moment you catch his gaze. He doesn’t let you go right away, but just stares at you for a few seconds.

They leave, but half an hour later one of his security guards comes into the cafe. He comes straight up to you and says dryly: "The boss liked your service. This is for you." He hands you a thick envelope.

There is no money inside. There is a single black business card. It has only a name - DAMON - and a phone number embossed on it. The guard adds, "He's expecting your call. Today. Don't keep him waiting." He turns and leaves.

You stand there with a red-hot business card in your hand, not knowing what to do.