"No, no, I actually do have questions about quantum computing," I insisted, racking my brain for anything I might have heard in my Introduction to Computer Science class last semester. "Like... how qubit stability affects error rates in quantum calculations?"
Sebastian's eyebrow raised a fraction of a centimeter—which, for him, I was sure was practically jumping out of his seat in shock.
That made me pretty proud of myself.
"You're familiar with quantum decoherence issues?" He sounded skeptical but slightly more interested.
"Absolutely," I lied with the confidence of someone who had definitely not just learned the term 'quantum decoherence' three seconds ago. "It's fascinating stuff."
By some miracle, the cafe appeared before I had to elaborate further. The driver smoothly pulled to the curb and opened Sebastian's door, then mine, though Sebastian was already striding toward the entrance without waiting.
[MISSION REMINDER: SPENDING REQUIREMENT ACTIVE. PAYMENT MUST BE INITIATED WITHIN 18 MINUTES.]
I swallowed.
The cafe, normally a cozy, slightly hipster spot where I occasionally splurged on a $4 latte, suddenly looked pathetically inadequate. Sebastian scanned the chalkboard menu with thinly veiled disdain.
"I'll have an Americano," he said to the barista, who was staring at him with the starstruck expression of someone who had definitely not been knocked unconscious by the billboard of the man.
"And I'm paying!" I announced too loudly, causing several customers to turn and stare. "For both of us. In fact, I'm buying... everything."
The barista blinked. "Everything?"
"Well, not everything everything," I laughed nervously. "But definitely something very expensive for my friend here. What's your most premium coffee experience?"
The barista's face lit up. "We do have our Reserve Collection tasting flight. Six specialty coffees from around the world, with chocolate and pastry pairings. It's normally for parties, but..."
"Perfect!" I interrupted. "We'll take that. And throw in one of those fancy brewing contraptions you use. The glass one with the—" I made a swooshing gesture with my hand.
"A Chemex?" The barista looked confused.
"Yes! Add that to my bill. And all your pastries. Just... all of them."
Sebastian was watching this performance with an expression that suggested he was mentally calculating the fastest exit route.
"You want to buy all our pastries?" The barista glanced nervously at her manager, who was now approaching with concern.
"And a bag of every type of coffee bean you sell," I added desperately. "To go."
[**TRANSACTION PROCESSING... $982.75 DETECTED. INSUFFICIENT FOR MISSION REQUIREMENTS.**]
I handed over my credit card with Daniel's emergency cash, praying the world would just end before the transaction was completed, and grateful when Sebastian strode back to the table without a second look at me.
To my surprise, the card actually went through. My mouth opened to ask the manager if she inputed it right, but stopped myself in time.
"May I ask what the occasion is?" the manager asked, oblivious to my shock as she began arranging our ridiculous order.
"Just... being a good friend?" I offered weakly. "Please deliver everything to that table." I pointed to where Sebastian had already seated himself, typing rapidly on his phone.
When I sat down across from him, he didn't look up. "Whatever you're attempting to accomplish, it's both transparent and ineffective."
"I'm just being nice," I said, trying to sound casual. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"Yes." He finally met my eyes. "You live in a studio apartment with water damage, you're behind on rent, and you just spent nearly four hundred dollars on coffee and pastries. Either you're mentally unbalanced, or you want something from me. Since most people want something from me, I'm assuming the latter."
The baristas began bringing over trays of elaborate coffee setups and pastries, transforming our table into something resembling a high-end bakery display.
"I don't want anything from you," I lied. "Can't a person just be generous?"
"No." He picked up an espresso cup, took a single sip, and set it down with a slight grimace. "Overextracted."
[**MISSION PROGRESS: 7.65% COMPLETE. REWARD: $500 ADDED TO SUGAR MOMMY ACCOUNT.**]
I nearly choked on my own coffee.
"Are you ill?" Sebastian asked irritably, noticing my expression.
"Just... hot coffee," I said, composing myself. "So, tell me about your company's work in quantum computing."
For the next fifteen minutes, Sebastian Blackwood delivered what was essentially a graduate-level lecture on quantum computing while barely touching any of the ridiculous spread of food I'd purchased. I nodded enthusiastically, understood perhaps every fifth word, and desperately tried to think of how to spend more money on him.
[WARNING: SPENDING RATE INSUFFICIENT. 7.65% COMPLETE 02:34 REMAINING.]
"This has been... informative," Sebastian finally said, checking his watch. "However, my conference call begins in eight minutes."
"Wait!" I reached out, almost grabbing his sleeve before thinking better of it. "Don't you want to try more of the pastries? Or take some coffee beans home? I bought all of them! For you!"
He stared at me like I'd grown a second head. "Why?"
"Because... I like your... face?" I winced as soon as the words left my mouth.
Sebastian stood, straightening his already impeccable suit. "I believe this interaction has reached its natural conclusion. Good day, Ms...."
"Elena. Elena Hart."
He nodded curtly. "Ms. Hart. This has been a new experience. I suggest you seek professional counseling."
And with that, he walked out, leaving me with a table full of unwanted pastries and coffee that had cost me nearly nine hundred dollars I didn't have.
[WARNING: TARGET SATISFACTION BELOW THRESHOLD. INITIATING LEVEL 1 PENALTY IN 3...2...1...]
"No, no, no," I whispered, frantically looking around. But it was too late.
My body suddenly went rigid, then moved entirely of its own accord. I found myself standing on my chair, then jumping onto the table, sending coffee and pastries flying.
"MY HEART WILL GO ON!" I belted at the top of my lungs, in a voice that was definitely not my own and sounded suspiciously like a drowning cat. My arms spread wide, Titanic-style, as I continued the ear-splitting serenade.
"AND IIIIIIIII WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUU!" I switched songs seamlessly, my body spinning in place, flinging a chocolate croissant directly into an elderly woman's face.
The cafe patrons stared in horror. A barista rushed over, asking if I was okay. I tried to respond that I was absolutely not okay, but instead, my mouth unleashed a pitch-perfect rendition of "Baby Got Back" while my hips performed movements that would make a professional dancer blush.
It only stopped when Sebastian's Bentley pulled away from the curb, not looking at me but definitely with more speed in his steps and was finally out of sight.
I collapsed onto the pastry-strewn table, mortified beyond words, as the manager informed me that I was banned from the premises "permanently and irrevocably," while other servers tried to politely stop people from taking videos.
My life sucked.