Ayren moved quickly between tables, holding a tray with two cups of steaming coffee.
His white curly hair stood out no matter how hard he tried to blend in. His bright blue eyes always drew attention too, but most customers only saw him as the quiet waiter. He had been working in this high-end coffee shop for a year now.
It was a place where the rich gathered, drinking expensive drinks, wearing fine clothes, and speaking like they had no worries in the world.
Ayren was seventeen, just one day away from his eighteenth birthday. He had no family. His parents died in an accident when he was in middle school.
Since then, he had been on his own. After finishing high school, he didn't go to college. He couldn't afford it. Instead, he found this job and tried his best to survive.
He looked around at the customers in the shop. Some were laughing. Others were talking loudly about business deals and weekend trips.
Ayren sighed as he wiped down a table. He wished he could sit like them, wear those clothes, talk about things that didn't involve bills or rent.
They looked so free. So happy. Sometimes he wondered if they were really happy or just pretending.
But even pretending looked better than the life he had. His old shoes were wearing out, and his phone screen was cracked.
Every month was a struggle. But he smiled anyway, even if it was fake. That was part of the job.
"Table 6, Ayren," his boss called from behind the counter.
He blinked and snapped out of his thoughts.
"Coming!" he said quickly and rushed over.
It was a group of teenagers. Two boys and two girls. They all looked around his age, but they were nothing like him.
They were dressed in designer clothes, the kind you only see in fashion ads. The boys wore watches that looked more expensive than his whole apartment.
Their eyes were sharp, like they had been raised to look down on others. But their posture, the way they sat—relaxed and confident—made it clear they were used to attention.
Ayren stood straight and held the small notepad and pen in his hand. His heart beat a little faster. These weren't normal customers.
Just by their clothes, their jewelry, and the way people in the shop glanced at them, he could tell.
Noble Aristocrat Families.
The elite.
The kind of people you only hear about. Rich by blood. Powerful by name.
He stepped forward to take their order, trying his best to act calm.
"Welcome. May I take your order?" he asked politely.
Then his eyes landed on her.
Among the group, one girl stood out the most. Her long white hair flowed like silk down her back. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were a deep red color—so strange, yet so beautiful.
She looked like someone from a dream. When she walked in earlier, the entire café had gone silent for a second.
Heads turned.
Even the other customers couldn't help but stare. Her presence was strong. Like she was someone important, someone meant to be noticed.
And yet, when her eyes met Ayren's, something strange happened. She looked surprised for a moment. Maybe because of his white hair. Just like hers.
Ayren quickly looked away and focused on his notepad. He couldn't afford to mess up.
"I'll take a hot chocolate," the red-eyed girl said softly.
Her voice was calm, clear, and somehow comforting.
Ayren nodded and took the rest of their orders.
Then, the white-haired girl spoke again.
"What's your name?" she asked suddenly.
Ayren looked up, surprised. Her red eyes were looking straight at him.
"Um… it's Ayren," he said quietly.
She smiled just a little but didn't say anything else. She didn't introduce herself. She just stared at him for a few more seconds, as if trying to figure something out.
One of the boys beside her gave Ayren a cold glance. His face didn't change much, but there was a hint of dislike in his eyes. Still, he said nothing.
Ayren quickly bowed a little. "I'll be back with your orders."
As he walked away, his hands felt a little sweaty. He had served many rich people before, but something about that group—especially the girl—made him feel nervous. Her eyes were still in his mind, red and deep, like they could see everything.
The rest of the shift went by slowly. His mind kept drifting back to the girl and how she looked at him.
When he finally handed over the drinks and received a quiet "thank you," he felt like he could breathe again.
Before leaving, his boss patted him on the shoulder.
"Good work today, Ayren. You handled Table 6 well."
"Thank you, sir," Ayren said with a small smile.
------
It was already late when Ayren got back to his apartment.
The room was small, with one bed, a little table, and a window that barely closed right.
But it was quiet, and it was his. He took off his shoes and dropped onto the bed.
He stared at the ceiling.
"I can't believe there's someone that beautiful in this world…" he whispered.
His thoughts drifted far. In his mind, he imagined a world where he was rich, where he lived in a big mansion and drove fast cars.
He dreamed of talking confidently like those teenagers. He imagined the girl with red eyes smiling at him again.
Then he blinked and sat up.
"Oh… tomorrow's my birthday."
The clock on the table ticked slowly. He watched the time go from 11:59 to 12:00.
A soft smile formed on his lips.
"Happy birthday to me, huh…" He let out a small sigh.
Eighteen.
He was an adult now. So what was next? Would anything change? He didn't know. He thought about working harder, saving more money, maybe finding a better job someday.
Maybe college someday too.
As he thought, he reached for his cracked phone to check the time again.
Suddenly, something happened.
[Ding!]
[The Supreme Infinity System has awakened!]
Ayren froze. His eyes widened.
"What…?"
Words appeared in front of him. Floating. Glowing. Like a screen in the air.
He rubbed his eyes. But it didn't go away.
He sat up quickly.
"What is this? A dream?"
But deep inside, he knew it wasn't.
Something had just changed forever.
---