AFTER HOURS

Elvin had been staring at the espresso machine for thirty-seven seconds.

It hissed at him.

He stared back.

Go on.

Another hiss.

Explode. Give me a reason to go home.

The machine made a violent clunk.

Elvin sighed.

“Attention seeker.”

“Are you talking to the coffee machine again?”

Elvin looked over his shoulder.

Lily had just walked in, still tying her apron.

“No.”

“I literally heard you.”

“Then why ask?”

She stared at him.

Elvin turned back to the machine.

Six forty-three in the morning and already I'm being interrogated. Excellent start.

He twisted a valve underneath it.

Nothing.

Another.

The machine coughed, rattled, then finally settled into its normal hum.

There.

Elvin straightened.

Lily looked between him and the machine.

“How did you know how to fix that?”

“I didn't.”

“You just fixed it.”

“I guessed.”

“You took it apart last week.”

“And?”

“And normal baristas don't do that.”

Elvin picked up a cloth.

“Normal baristas probably have working equipment.”

From the office, James shouted, “I heard that.”

“Good.”

Lily snorted.

---

By eight, the café was full.

Elvin preferred customers when they were ordering.

Ordering gave them purpose.

Without purpose, people did things like small talk.

A man approached the counter.

“The usual, please.”

Elvin already had it halfway done.

The man blinked.

“Oh.”

Yes. Magic.

Definitely not because you've ordered the same flat white every Thursday for nine months.

Elvin placed the cup down.

“Extra shot?”

The man smiled.

“You remembered.”

Unfortunately.

“Yeah.”

“That's impressive.”

“Thanks.”

It wasn't.

The man paid and left.

Lily appeared beside him.

“You know, you could smile.”

“I do.”

“When?”

Elvin considered it.

“Sometimes.”

“I've never seen it.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

She stared at him.

He moved to the next order.

People really expected a lot for the price of coffee.

---

His break started at twelve thirty.

Twenty minutes.

Technically enough time to eat.

Elvin spent eighteen of them staring at stock charts.

His pastry remained untouched beside his phone.

One particular company had been climbing for weeks.

Everyone online loved it.

Analysts loved it.

Investors loved it.

Elvin thought they were all idiots.

Not because the company was bad.

Because the numbers didn't make sense.

He opened the note he'd written nineteen days earlier.

Debt disclosure. Correction before month-end.

Then refreshed the chart.

Red.

Down 3.2%.

Elvin stopped.

Refreshed again.

3.8%.

News notification.

There it was.

Debt disclosure.

Exactly what he'd expected.

Elvin leaned back.

Oh.

Another refresh.

4.1%.

Oh, that's embarrassing.

Not for him.

For several thousand people currently discovering the concept of consequences.

He opened a calculator.

If he'd invested £5,000

He closed it.

No.

Opened it again.

We're not doing this.

Typed the number.

Looked at the hypothetical profit.

Silence.

Fantastic.

I've made imaginary money.

At this rate I'll be an imaginary millionaire by thirty.

He opened his banking app.

£46.12

Elvin stared at it.

The number stared back.

There he is.

My financial empire.

Forty-six pounds and twelve pence.

He could probably buy one share in something.

Maybe half a chair.

His phone buzzed.

PAYMENT DUE IN 3 DAYS

Elvin swiped it away.

Don't be negative.

Another notification.

Your screen time increased 14% this week.

He stared at that one longer.

“Traitor.”

“Elvin?”

He locked the screen immediately.

Lily stood at the door.

“What?”

“James wants you.”

“Why?”

“He didn't say.”

Elvin looked toward the ceiling.

Of course.

Why communicate information when you can create suspense?

He stood.

Lily looked at his untouched pastry.

“You're not eating?”

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

“Getting rich.”

She glanced at his old phone.

Then at him.

“Going well?”

Elvin slipped it into his pocket.

“Extremely.”

---

James only wanted him to check an invoice.

Six boxes delivered.

Four ordered.

Elvin noticed it before James did.

Again.

James stared at the paper.

“How the hell do you keep seeing this stuff?”

Elvin shrugged.

“It says six.”

“I know it says six.”

“Then we're making progress.”

James slowly looked up.

Elvin looked back.

There are moments in life where silence is the intelligent choice.

He considered that.

“Anything else?”

Apparently this wasn't one of them.

James pointed toward the door.

“Go.”

“Gladly.”

---

The café finally closed at nine.

Lily left first.

James followed.

Elvin stayed.

Not because he loved unpaid labour.

He had standards.

Very low standards, admittedly, but they existed.

The café after closing was simply quieter than his room.

Better internet, too.

He locked the front door and pulled his laptop from his backpack.

Old.

Scratched.

The hinge was threatening retirement.

He opened three programs.

The fan immediately started screaming.

Elvin stared at it.

You have one job.

The fan screamed louder.

Fine. Two jobs.

His notebook opened beside it.

Half financial notes.

Half code.

Most people finished work and went home.

Elvin finished work and started doing the things he actually cared about.

Markets.

Code.

Whatever problem had managed to annoy him enough that week.

Tonight it was a small program he'd been building for no particular reason beyond the fact that the existing solution irritated him.

He changed one line.

Ran it.

Error.

Elvin stared.

Changed it back.

Ran it.

Different error.

He leaned closer.

Interesting.

Ten minutes later.

same error.

Less interesting.

Twenty minutes.

Still broken.

Elvin rubbed his face.

“I'm going to kill you.”

The laptop continued existing without remorse.

He tried something else.

Run.

Success.

Elvin froze.

Ran it again.

Success.

A tiny smile appeared.

“There you are.”

His phone sat beside the laptop.

The market chart was still open.

He refreshed it.

Down even further.

His prediction had been almost perfect.

Elvin looked at his notebook.

Then at the working code.

Then at his bank balance.

£46.12

The smile disappeared.

That was the irritating part.

He wasn't waiting to become smarter.

He wasn't waiting to figure out what he wanted.

He knew.

He had known for years.

What he didn't have was money.

Equipment.

Time.

A degree he'd been unable to finish.

Apparently intelligence was extremely useful once you could afford to use it.

Maybe next month.

Elvin closed the banking app.

The thought came easily.

It always did.

Next month.

Later.

When things settled down.

When he had more money.

When he had more time.

Eventually.

Outside, rain had started falling.

Elvin looked through the dark café window at London moving without him.

Then back at the laptop.

Eleven fifteen.

He should go home.

He didn't.

He opened another file.

One more hour.

It was what he always told himself.

There would be time for everything else later.