Kapitel 3: Meeting Someone Unexpected 1

"Thank you! Hope to see you again at MegaChop Diner sometime soon," Ebilade said with a polite smile, handing a neatly packed food bag to a customer.

The customer, a middle-aged man with a weathered face, grinned back, shaking his head slightly. "You've got a way about you, kid," he muttered, almost to himself, as he walked off. The warm interaction left a lasting impression, and the man already knew he'd be returning, not just for the food, but for Ebilade's hospitality.

As soon as the customer left, Blessing, one of Ebilade's senior coworkers, sidled up beside him. She was about 24, tall with sharp features, and always had an air of quiet confidence. She crossed her arms, leaning against the counter with a curious smile. "You really have a way with customers," she remarked, her voice light but genuinely impressed. "Since you came here, the sales have gone up. Like, seriously up." Her eyes twinkled with amusement as she tilted her head. "What's your secret?"

Ebilade chuckled softly, shaking his head as he wiped his hands on his apron. "There's no secret, Blessing," he said, pulling out his old, battered phone from his pocket. The cracked screen caught the light as he scrolled through it. "I'm just doing my job, that's all." His tone was casual, as if he didn't really see what the fuss was about, but there was a humble warmth behind his words.

Blessing raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a grin. "Uh-huh," she said, watching him with playful skepticism. "You're just doing your job, huh?" She glanced down at the phone in his hand, her curiosity shifting. "And what exactly are you always tapping on, anyway? You're gonna regret it if that phone finally gives up on you." She nodded toward the worn Gionee in his grip. "From the time I've spent with you, I doubt you've got the cash to replace that thing anytime soon."

Ebilade laughed quietly, his focus still on the screen. He'd opened an app, the one with the picture of a cartoon hamster, and his fingers moved quickly, tapping with determined precision. "Hopefully, before this phone completely dies, the hamster coin will have launched, and I'll be able to afford a new one," he said, not lifting his head to look at her, his tone as casual as ever.

Blessing's smile faltered for a moment, and she sighed, shaking her head slightly. She had heard this before—this same kind of optimism. Her own boyfriend had been obsessed with a similar scheme, tapping away at his phone for hours, convinced that when some virtual coins launched, they'd be rolling in cash. She had seen how much time he wasted on it, and the thought made her shoulders tense.

"You really believe that hamster coin thing is going to pay off, huh?" she asked, though her voice was gentle, without the usual bite of criticism. She couldn't bring herself to burst his bubble, especially since, unlike her boyfriend, Ebilade was out here working hard while still holding onto his quiet hope.

Ebilade finally glanced up at her, giving a small, lopsided smile. "Why not? Maybe it will," he said, his eyes bright with a flicker of determination. He looked back down at his phone, resuming his tapping, unfazed by her skepticism.

Blessing shook her head again, this time with a soft chuckle. "Well, just don't let that hamster thingy get you too invested. Keep doing what you're doing here—it's working."

She walked away with a grin, leaving Ebilade to his phone. She couldn't help but feel a bit protective of him, even if she didn't fully understand his drive. Unlike her boyfriend, Ebilade was balanced—working, hustling, and hoping, without letting one thing pull him under. And in that, Blessing found something worth admiring.

~Ding~

The familiar sound of the doorbell pulled Ebilade's attention away from his task, and he glanced up to see a young couple walk in. The man and woman, both around his age, looked effortlessly stylish. The guy was sporting the latest iPhone, casually holding it as if it was just another accessory, while the girl was dressed head-to-toe in designer clothing, the labels subtly on display—a quiet boast of wealth. Her designer handbag swung gently by her side as she laughed at something he said.

Ebilade's eyes lingered on them for a moment longer than necessary, his thoughts taking a darker turn. He could feel a sigh rising up in his chest, but he held it in, shaking his head instead. The contrast between his own worn clothes and their polished appearance was stark, but it wasn't jealousy that gnawed at him—it was something deeper. A cold frustration.

As the couple moved further into the diner, Ebilade's mind raced. How do people like them sleep at night? he wondered. His hands tightened around the rag he was using to clean the counter, his knuckles turning white. He wasn't naïve. He knew the signs. He'd seen people like them before—the flashy lifestyle, the latest gadgets, the nonchalant way they spent money without a second thought. It wasn't always clean.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. He knew there were people out there who scammed others, lived off money they didn't earn, and then had the audacity to laugh, eat, and live without a shred of guilt. How did they even justify it to themselves? Where was their conscience? He couldn't wrap his head around it.

Ebilade's jaw clenched as his thoughts wandered to his younger twin brother. That was exactly why they had fallen out. His brother had slipped into that very world, chasing fast money, material things, and empty thrills. He had tried to talk sense into him, but it was like talking to a brick wall. They used to be inseparable, two sides of the same coin, but now... they hardly even spoke.

A small frown tugged at Ebilade's lips as he glanced down at the phone in his pocket, the screen cracked but still functional. It wasn't the latest, it wasn't flashy, but it was his. He had earned every naira that went into buying it. And while it wasn't much, it felt better to him than anything bought with someone else's pain.

The couple was now seated, laughing quietly among themselves, oblivious to his thoughts. Ebilade wiped the counter one last time before straightening up. He couldn't change them, or the world they came from, but he could control his own choices.

He forced a smile onto his face and approached the couple with the same warm professionalism he offered every customer. Whatever they were outside the diner didn't matter. Here, he was just doing his job—honestly and with dignity.

"Good evening," he greeted them, his voice calm and polite. "What can I get for you?"

"Ebilade? Is that you?"

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