(Edited with Grammarly 4/16/2026)
Albert sipped at the piping hot cup of chocolate goodness, breathing in the rich brew as he allowed a single drop of warmth to travel onto his tongue, down his throat, and settle in deep in his belly. Acting like a furnace, that warmth was then pushed to every end of his body. Letting out a contented sigh, he set the mug down just to luxuriate in the moment.
"You outdid yourself." He turned back to the far too smug-looking old man above him with a matching grin. "This is going to sell like hotcakes!"
"Damn right it is!" Jeremiah smiled widely, thin hands working at the diminishing pile of unused mugs. Wearing a green apron atop a simple, long-sleeved button-up shirt, he looked every bit the gentleman the neatly trimmed gray beard and hair alluded to. "These are going to absolutely kill, I just know it! But, I feel that it's missing something."
"I don't know," The teen took another loud and obnoxious sip, really taking in the elixir of life. Moving the stick of perfectly cut cinnamon, he really tried to pin down whatever nonsense the old man was trying to hint at. But came up empty; it just tasted like some of the best hot cocoa he ever had, just based solely on the fact that it hadn't come in powdered form. No thick clumps at the bottom, he could feel with his spoon, none of that slightly watery taste, nor did it leave silt along his teeth. It tasted like...well, actual chocolate. "It tastes perfect to me."
"That's because of your unrefined palate." The jab was instant and instinctual, but that was just how their relationship had always been. And with Albert not coming around as much, he decided to let this one slide. There was always time to slide another jab in at another time. "I got this recipe from my time hitch-hiking across the world, from a wonderful woman who didn't speak a lick of English but still brought me into her home and made me a cup of cocoa from scratch. Now that, Albert my boy, was a perfect cup. Thick, creamy, smooth with a hint of spice. Been over twenty years, and I can still sometimes taste it when I close my eyes."
"No matter what you say, I think I'm going to remember this cup for the rest of my life." Just to prove his point further, he took another loud slurp. Thoroughly enjoying the way the old man flinched. "Did you ever go back?"
"A few times." Here he had the nerve to look off in the distance with a visible blush spotting his nose. Scratch at his chin, the old man fell further back into a nostalgic haze. "The first time I went back, I tried to pay her for her kindness, and she turned me down, instead just pointed me towards a local charity. The second time, I actually learned from French and could finally speak to her, finding out that she was a real firecracker. Kind, but pretty fiery. Turns out, she'd been chewing me out the first time we met. Something about some idiot young man backpacking through Europe, and how terrible of an idea it was. And the third time….well, that's not for your ears. Just know that's the year I had my first child."
"So...she became your wife?"
"It's not that kind of story, kid." Jeremiah shook himself free from the memory, a more cooled grin sliding right back into place. "I had a whole life here in the US, and she had her own life there. I couldn't ask her to upend her life, and she couldn't either. So, after that summer, we agreed to end our relationship in hopes of neither of us getting hurt. And after coming back to the States, I just tried to live my life. Eight years later, I married my wife and had three beautiful children. It wasn't until fifteen years later, after we split ways, that I finally met my first child. Appeared on my doorstep with some luggage and a simple note. Turns out, she'd kept this child from me, and only after she knew she was leaving this world did she seek me out to make sure our child wouldn't grow up alone. Let me tell you something, there is nothing more stressful than trying to integrate an almost stranger into a family unit. She was a moody, depressed and probably a bit resentful towards for 'abandoning' her and her mother...But we're good now, just a hiccup in our relationship. I can thank my wonderful wife, may God bless her soul, for being responsible for that. A kind woman and a near saintly mother."
"…" It suddenly made sense why the man couldn't see how amazing this brew was; he was constantly comparing his own creation to something that probably didn't exist. It wasn't just the cup of cocoa, but the feelings and point of his life he was in then. That feeling of backpacking across the world, of sore feet, homesickness, hunger, and probably just fatigue from having to deal with people. In that moment, he had felt safe and cared for. And that hot chocolate was like a focal point or a flashbulb memory that he could always come back to submerge himself in time. A time of passion, young and forlorn love. But despite this coming to Albert's mind, he didn't try to butt in. This wasn't a therapy session, and he hadn't been asked to help solve anything. Sometimes, people just wanted to reminisce in peace without someone poking at the inherent flaws or issues. Instead, he decided to ask a question. "Then, I'm guessing that's why it's called Le-Cho-"
"I'm going to stop you there before you butcher it." The man held up his hand quickly, almost looking pained. "It's called Le Chocolat Chaud De L'hiver 1968. But I'm probably going to shorten it to Winter 1968 for folk like you."
"Then I will have another Le Chocolate Cody De-Liver 1968," Albert held up an empty mug, ignoring the disgusted cringe wracking across the old man's face. "And a blueberry muffin!"
"I'm charging you this time, you uncultured swine." He held a single gloved hand up to his mouth as if holding back the tide before sending a thoroughly offended glare the teen's way. "I hope you're more...couth with whatever poor schmuck you're meeting up with. And young men these days wonder why they can't get a date or keep a woman…"
Grumbling off into the back, his figure soon disappeared into the back before silence reigned supreme in the small coffee shop. Taking the environment, he couldn't help but notice how his tensed shoulders eased. Nor how he subtly began to slump in his seat as the gentle jazz in the background tried to slow things down.
He needed this, needed this relaxing environment, needed to feel as if he wasn't being rushed or taking up anyone's time. He'd been trying to keep in contact with everyone he could, sending the occasional texts or phone calls. Not really because he needed anything from them, more to just see how they were doing and what they had planned for the week. It was a lot harder than he once thought.
Having to balance not coming across as uninterested, or annoying, or clingy, or even desperate, with actually giving and taking from these conversations, it was like flexing a social muscle he never knew he had. Honestly, in his heart of hearts, he was so glad to have finally forced himself to get back into the swing of things. It gave him a genuine excuse now to turn down hanging out without him defaulting to being 'tired'. He enjoyed and cherished his time with all his friends, don't get him wrong, but sometimes he just wanted to stay home doing nothing at all. Or lying on the floor as he played with Sundae until she got annoyed with him and buggered off somewhere.
Maybe he was going about this the wrong way, but that was just how developing social skills was; he was going to fumble. Going to find himself in embarrassing situations, but eventually he would find a balance that suited him.
Just then, the door creaked open. Sending out a gentle chime through the building. A slice of chaos in this tranquil space, and looking up, Albert took note of their new guest.
The girl looked to be maybe a year older than he was, with a short bob of somewhat frazzled brown hair underneath a dark green cap. She had a round face in shape, a nose appearing smaller than it probably was, and brown eyes that sat in sunken sockets. Making her appear as if she often stayed up to godawful hours of the night.
Wrapped in a red bubble coat, she hugged herself lightly as those orbs scanned the swanky place before they landed on him. Something flashed across her acne-speckled face as she took him in. Disgust. From the way her nose scrunched up for a mere moment, and how she quickly took her gaze away from the near ghoulish sight on display. Maybe she thought it had been subtle enough, or that she was quick enough to hide her initial reaction to him. She was wrong.
"Hello," Albert stood from his seat, smiling professionally, trying to ignore the way she flinched back from him at his sudden movement. Waving forward, he continued with his gloved hand extended. "My name is Albert Nelson, a representative of S.E.A., and I am guessing you must be Ms. Cohen?"
"Hi," Cohen appeared somewhat reluctant as she crossed the distance and took his hand, but now it was his turn to master his expression. From this up close, a smell hit him. A musty and unpleasant thing that tried to turn his nose inside out. "You can just call me Chelsea."
"A pleasure to meet you." He loosened his grip and motioned to the table beside him. "Please take a seat. If you want anything, I will cover your bill."
"...I think I'm good." That flash of disgust only grew as she took the seat across from him, unzipping her coat and hanging it off the back. Exposing an oversized, heavily wrinkled, bright blue t-shirt that had a long faded figure of a cartoon raccoon. "Are...are there any other representatives available?"
"Not at this moment." He could feel it then, his professional smile growing as fragile as glass. It turns out all of his interactions thus far had been abnormal. And thinking back on them, it made some sense. How normal were Marceline, Angeline, Harley, Ivy, and even Barbara, to some extent, at the end of the day? Even all those people he spoke to at that swanky soiree barely considered him more than a charity case and probably just looked down at anyone below their tax bracket. Older woman didn't really seem to mind his appearance, but that could be more due to maybe his emaciated and malnourished look about him instilled a sense of concern or parental instinct or something like that. And his only other face-off against someone within his own age group was done while shoving a gun in their face. And so far, he'd honestly assumed his low APP wasn't going to be of much importance going forward. Well, here it was, the consequence of his actions slapping him full force in the face.
"You're...you're just not what I expected, is all." Chelsea shrugged awkwardly, a light smattering of red across her freckled cheeks as she continued. "I'm not trying to be rude, but I kind of expected a grizzled detective, maybe even a little handsome in that 'too tired to care' kind of way, like…"
"Commissioner Gordon?"
"Yes! Exactly!" She nodded excitedly, and he could only sigh. That was a pretty high bar to even reach. The man was always considered a good-looking man, no matter in what media he was portrayed in. "And-and! I also expected someone, maybe older? You look to be around my cousin's age, and he mostly runs around pretending to be Superman and still believes girls have cooties."
"I am sixteen if that helps any."
"That honestly makes it worse. I know how guys my age are, and I just want to let you know that I already have someone I'm interested in."
"I am aware." He had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at that. The voicemail was very clear about why he was here to begin with. Besides, why would he go around using his agency as a way to pick up dates? "But now, that you mentioned it: Why don't you explain what's going on, and I can see what help I'm able to provide."
"…" Chelsea wasn't quite convinced, but after maybe a few moments, she finally did relent. "Well, I was kind of hoping to speak to someone older so I won't feel so goddamn embarrassed about this, but if you're really all they have...Then I guess I have no choice. But first, you don't go to Gotham City High School, do you?"
"No, I am emancipated and already possess a GED."
She didn't need to know he was well acquainted with multiple attendees; let her believe she was leading by the nose or was his only source of verifiable information.
"Oh, well, good. Then I don't need to worry about this spreading around school." At this, she took in a heavy inhale before letting it all out at once. "I've had a crush on this guy, Adrian, since we were both in middle school. He's smart, funny, handsome, tall, athletic, and a real social butterfly. He's for sure considered to be one of the most popular guys at school. So with that said, there's no way he would ever, ever notice me. But I still dream of him taking note of me, finding out that we're soulmates, and finally being together. I just know that if I can just have the chance to speak to him, that he'll too fall in love with me!"
"Why haven't you?"
"Aren't you paying attention?!" She slapped her hand down on the table with a visible scowl. "He's PERFECT! Like someone sculpted by God himself! And he's always surrounded by some hungry ass whores! Sluts wearing these tiny jean shorts or tube tops! Just leaving nothing to the imagination! They swarm him like flies! It doesn't matter what class period we're in, there's always some skank not too behind shooing me away! I feel they're all just jealous! Like they can feel we have a connection and refuse to allow that spark to happen! But if it were any of those bimbos, I wouldn't have to worry so much! I can handle them by myself...but his girlfriend is a different matter."
"Sienna Kelly, the biggest fucking bitch in all of Gotham. If the whole idea of a 'mean girl' had a physical form, it would be her! She's been jealous of me from the start and has been standing between my and Adrian's destiny! She got his hooks into him a mere month after he moved here and hasn't let him go ever since! She's almost a bigger bitch than Angeline Gramercy!"
He had to look elsewhere as she said that, not trusting his self-control to stop the slight tug at the corner of his lips.
"All she does all day is play this obnoxious music on her WaynePods." Now that Chelsea got started, it seemed there was nothing that could stop her ranting about her most hated foe, "Wears these stupid jean shorts that shows too much of her skinny-twig-like legs and just seems to brag about how skinny she is! I really don't see what Adrian sees in her! She's flat as a board, got no curves to speak of, and she's so fucking mean to people that it's ridiculous! One time, I saw her dunk an entire tray of food on this quiet kid's head! And! I heard she has to be sleeping with a few teachers! Straight A's, my ass! She has to be sucking some shriveled old man's dick to be getting such good grades!"
'Are you sure you're not in love with her and not Adrian?'
Honestly, it felt like he knew more about Sienna than her actual crush at this point.
"So," Albert decided now was the time to cut in before she wound herself back up into a fury. "What do you actually need done? I'm not making anyone 'disappear', I don't offer those types of services."
"…" The brunette froze in place, and for an instant, he thought his jest had crossed a line. And just as he was prepared to quickly apologize in hopes of remedying the situation, she continued with a far too thoughtful expression on her face. "You know what, I never actually thought about that...It would solve all my problems, wouldn't it? She would be far away somewhere, and Adrian would be al-"
"..." He tapped the table, dragging her back to the real world, kicking and screaming. The more he heard from her, the less inclined he felt to take this case on. But now that he had gotten some idea of her current headspace, it would be the height of irresponsibility to let such a volatile element out of his sight. Who knew if she would actually try to hire someone to solve this problem more...permanently. "What do you need from me?"
"Oh yeah, well," Floundering, the girl soon found her balance and laid out the plan. "This coming school year is going to be our senior year, and after that, I will have no more chances to get to talk to Adrian. He's a rising star, you see. I know he's going to be big in the future, and he won't be able to differentiate my love for him from the love his fans will feel. This year is my last chance! But I just know that bitch, Sienna, will try everything in her power to keep us apart! They're constantly together at school with a posse of cheerleaders and usually go home together after practice."
"Practice?" Finally, some facts about the man in question. "What does Adrian do? Football? Baseball? Wrestling?"
"None of those brutish sports!" It was like she'd been personally insulted by that question, offended that he had the nerve to suggest that her perfect man would ever be associated with those sports. "He's so much better than those stupid jocks! He's an actor! A part of the theater club! With his handsome good looks and blonde hair, he was perfect for the role of King Arthur! Didn't you see his performance? It got raving reviews all across Gotham and even Metropolis! They even had that fucking skank, Lois Lane, come over and do an interview with him!"
"Okay, okay, got it." It appeared that dragging out more facts about this prince charming was going to be quite the feat. So this Adrian character was blonde, handsome, and a known theater kid. But no matter how famous he might be, Albert couldn't help but feel some things were off. Weren't theater kids, especially during the early 2000s, bullied by cheerleaders and jocks? No, he wasn't wrong. There were plenty of movies where that was the case. So could any amount of natural charisma ever bridge the gap between those two cliques? Maybe? But maybe he shouldn't derive all his experience just from movies, this was real life after all. And even with that, his own memories of how theater kids and band were often treated by their more athletic counterparts pointed towards that same prejudice. Outright bullying to the degree of movies had never happened, but there were plenty of times he'd been a fly on the wall and heard of how the three were almost always at each other's throats. "What's different now?"
"Well, I know he's going to be busy this upcoming year as he's aiming for a scholarship at Yale. He's got the recognition of one of their scouts, and they're going to be keeping a close eye on him this final year. He'll need to compete against other aspirants, but he's got it in the bag. I just know it. But with that, I know he's going to be forever out of my reach then. I know my grades well enough to know I can't get into Yale, and I know for damn sure I can't afford it either. So knowing this, I know he's probably going to be too focused on practicing to worry about anything else. So, here's my plan. Every year, one of the cheerleaders throws this massive party sometime after school starts but right before the seniors get bogged down. Open invitation and everything. Everyone's going to be there, from our year and maybe even a year below us if they're 'cool' enough."
"And I know he has gone to every single one thus far." She steepled her hands together, appearing the most composed and focused since she first sat down. "There will be my only chance. But here's the thing, that bitch Seinna will surely know this and will work double time to keep us apart, so I want you to go as well. To first scope him out and get a feel of his mindset, and how willing he will be to break things off with her to get with me. And two, to distract that bitch long enough so that I can make my move."
"Distract her? How?"
"Woo her or something!" Chelsea threw her hands up in exasperation. "She's a total fucking slut, I'm sure she'll even sleep with someone like you, too! You're the goddamn private eye, you figure it out!"
'You're not too much of a prize either, lady.'
"Before I accept or decline this job," Yeah, now felt like the time to draw the line in the sand. Now with her story and plan out there, surely it would be far harder for her to get up and storm away in a huff, right? "I feel that I've been nothing but professional with you thus far, and I expect the same treatment from you. This will be the last time you comment on my appearance. If you can't agree to this simple term, then you will have to find someone else to help you."
She wouldn't leave. Didn't seem the type to drop things as they were, especially after putting in the effort. She clearly didn't have friends, else they would've been brought up even once during this entire conversation. Pinning down her poor social skills resulted in a lack of filter and an almost spiteful unwillingness to even begin to learn. And he could clearly see the two sides war within her. That indignation of having her poor behavior being pointed out, with how much energy she invested just to bring him into the fold.
"I can agree to that."
It seemed whatever calculations came up to his favor, leaving a sulking girl with crossed arms in their place.
"Good." Albert nodded. "When is this party exactly? And we should probably handle your deposit before anything else."
"It's going to be this Sunday, starting at six in the evening, and how much are you going to charge me?"
"Not much," A more spiteful version of himself reared its ugly head just then, and for once, he didn't shove it back down into the depths from whence it came. "Just slide me a hundred bucks, and we're square."
"A hundred?! That's almost half of my weekly check!"
"It's only a deposit." Okay, maybe he wasn't being the bigger person here, but could anyone really blame him? Tongue-splitting in twain, flicking out to taste the foul air. Words, comforting things began to flow from his upturned lips like honey. "If you're not satisfied with my services, then of course, I'll give it right back. Think of it as me just holding it for you."
"You'd better keep your word!" She stood to her feet, ripping her coat back around herself with a huff. "I don't have it on me right now, but I'll give it to you Sunday. I won't risk giving it to you now, and you just disappearing on me!"
"Understandable," He rose to his feet, still being forced to look up at her. "It was a pleasure. I will see you Sunday. If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to call our office. Have a good day, Ms. Cohen."
Without replying to him, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the coffee shop. Slamming the door shut behind her with a harsh ringing of bells.
The gentle, background jazz music filled the newly made silence. Leaving him to just stand and ruminate on exactly what he needed to get done in the next couple of days.
"Is she gone?" Jeremiah's voice spoke up from the back, and poking his head around the corner, he scanned the room just in case.
"Yeah, she's gone." Albert collapsed back into his seat, pulling out a small notebook and began scribbling like mad. "Sorry about that, I thought she was going to be more pleasant than that."
"That girl…" The old man shook his head, coming out from behind the counter to place a steaming cup of cocoa goodness before him. "I can't help but feel bad. We both know how this is going to go, right? She's a piece of work, but that still doesn't mean I want to see her heartbroken. I had two daughters and sat through so many sobbing heartbreaks that I really can't stomach it. But it's going to happen here, too, and hopefully, she learns and grows from it. I just hope he lets her down gently, is all."
"We can only hope."