The server

When Luca showed up at work late, his supervisor, David, gave him the look—the look that said he was disappointed. But he didn’t say anything.

David was reserved but never mean. Luca couldn’t say he was friendly, but he got things done. Luca respected him. So knowing that David was disappointed in him didn’t sit right.

Somehow, Luca picked up the food from the kitchen, packed it, and loaded everything into the truck. The nine-thirty traffic was slow, with most of it concentrated on the highway. He hoped he’d make it before ten o’clock, since he had to finish setting up before eleven-thirty.

Half an hour later, he made his way into the lobby of the Cognizant building, where he was supposed to set up a buffet for thirteen people.

At reception, a few grumpy-looking men with mustaches sat behind the desk. They looked like men who had never known a moment of happiness in their lives.

One of them asked for Luca’s ID and then told him to sign the register.

Once he was satisfied, he handed Luca a building ID and told him to go to the fifteenth floor.

Inside the elevator was a small poster with three words:

YOU CAN DO IT.

Luca almost laughed.

As he made his way through the cubicles, he saw employees working at their stations. He envied them. They probably made triple figures and had insurance.

It took him fifteen minutes to set up the table and buffet.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. His head was pounding, and all he wanted was to take a nap.

By the time he arrived back at the hotel, the sky had turned dark grey.

He unloaded the truck, threw the plates, cutlery, and pans into the washing machine, and then made his way to the banquet hall.

The evening was tense. They had back-to-back events at the hotel.

The banquet hall, Onyx, could hold two hundred people. The lunch crowd was still there, and they were supposed to move ten round tables out of the hall and onto the lawn.

It was a little embarrassing with the guests still sitting inside.

After a lot of excuse us and sorry, JC and the others quickly got the tables out and loaded them into the mini-truck. They unloaded them in the back area of the lawn.

It was a race against time.

Somehow, they made it.

Then the evening rolled on.

Luca didn’t want to be there. But he wasn’t doing it for himself.

He was doing it for the boys next to him.

They had become like a family to him, and he couldn’t let them down. That was why he’d shown up despite the bloody hangover.

The lights of the hall came alive as darkness settled outside. Luca let out a sigh and looked blankly at his watch.

Six p.m.

His energy and patience were running low. He was already counting the hours until his shift ended.

For the moment, though, he had to endure.

The guests were yet to arrive, and since the work was done, Luca decided to take a break. He headed toward the café.

The staff were busy taking care of the Sunday brunch crowd. The café musician was singing Can’t Help Falling in Love with You.

The funny thing about Sunday brunch, Luca thought, was that if someone had ever read Anthony Bourdain’s Kitchen Confidential, they’d know that brunch was often made up of leftovers.

Yet somehow, it smelled delicious and looked good enough that people were willing to pay good money for it.

Most of the customers were families and couples. Kids ran around looking at the buffet, while others stood beside the ice-cream counter.

Then the smell of freshly made pizza hit Luca’s nose.

His stomach growled.

He went to the back area to ask Chef Gordon for a slice. Gordon was working the live pizza station.

“Hey, Luca,” Chef Gordon said without looking up. His hands were busy working the pizza dough. “Come for a slice!”

“You read my mind, Chef.”

“Help yourself. Pass me the big pan, please.”

Luca handed it to him.

“How’s the work going?” Gordon asked.

“The usual. You’re on the morning shift today.”

“Hmm.”

Luca hesitated before asking, “Chef, have you ever envied the bigshots who come here?”

“Ah,” Gordon said, putting the pizza dough into the oven. “Who doesn’t?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Luca saw Winfred coming over.

Luca liked his Zen-like vibe. Winfred was always calm and poised, as if he had no worries in life. He was part of the management program, and everything was set for him to become an executive.

Employees had to work for two years before they could join the program.

When Luca had been at hotel school, he’d only thought about getting a job. But now he felt as though he was missing something in his life.

The truth was that he didn’t particularly enjoy being a server.

His family had never gone out to eat at restaurants. He had no idea what he was getting into when he enrolled in hotel school.

Then his father died.

His family received the insurance money, and Luca had simply wanted to get out of town. His mother supported his decision.

Now he felt lost and alone.

His first job had lasted only two months. He’d quit without notice.

Then his pal Brendon had set him up at this hotel, and he’d been there for nine months.

The staff were younger and friendlier.

So he stayed.

“How’s your head?” Winfred asked.

“Fine.”

“Lucky you didn’t get fired,” Winfred said.

Luca smiled.

There was a little story behind that.

During his first week, Luca, Winfred, and a couple of other guys had gone to an outdoor catering event hosted by a major truck company. There had been a bar, and of course, there had been plenty of alcohol.

Once they were done winding up, Winfred and his buddy Zach had started pouring the leftover alcohol into empty water bottles to take home.

They had a party that weekend, so it was for a good cause.

They had asked Luca not to tell anyone.

He hadn’t.

So, in return, they had to watch his back at the hotel.

And they did.

“Yeah,” Luca said.

“How many for dinner?”

“Two hundred.”

“That’s nothing.”

Winfred always said that.

Being part of the management program meant he didn’t have to do physical labor like Luca. He could relax and watch the others work.

Then again, he had served his time.

Luca supposed he deserved it.

He couldn’t stick around for long because he had to report for duty.

As he was leaving, the evening café staff were lining up for their briefing.

Luca really felt for them.

The briefing was basically an excuse for the café executives to make a server’s life miserable. They checked everyone’s grooming and whether they had their service kit.

If someone didn’t, which happened often, they’d be yelled at in front of everyone.

It was humiliating.

The banquet team was always burdened with too much work, so their executives didn’t give much thought to briefings.

But that also meant they often had no idea who they were serving or who the host was.

The executives handled all of that.

Luca was happy with the arrangement.

He was shy and wasn’t good with people. So he didn’t mind.

He showed up for work, did his part, and got paid.

Life wasn’t perfect.

But it was okay.

Time flew once Luca got busy with the dinner party.

He clocked out somewhere around two-thirty in the morning.

The neon Marriott sign buzzed as he looked back at the hotel from a distance. The air smelled of rain, which felt refreshing after such a long day at work.

He should have gone straight to bed.

Instead, he decided to watch the sunrise.

He made his way to the harbor.

Fishing boats were getting ready to catch the day’s first catch.

Luca wondered why anyone would choose a business that started before dawn and ended before noon.

Then his thoughts drifted.

Had he ever had a moment when, for a heartbeat, his mind flew somewhere he wished he could be?

A moment that took him back to people he loved, or someone special he’d met and parted ways with without saying goodbye?

A moment when he wondered whether life with that person might have been different?

Luca was having one of those moments.

Everything about Amber kept playing in his mind like a scene from a movie.

The night before, he’d had a nightmare in which his memories of Amber were familiar but blurred.

Like static on a television screen whenever the signal was lost.

He could remember what it felt like to have her hands in his.

But her face was becoming difficult to imagine.

He couldn’t remember what clothes she might have been wearing.

That scared him.

He needed a drink.

Winfred had just the thing.

Without alcohol, Luca wasn’t sure he would have made it through the night. At one in the morning, one drink had turned into five.

Now his eyes followed the lines made by the constellation of Orion.

Ever since childhood, Orion had been a familiar sight in the night sky.

It was like seeing a lost friend.

His mother had owned a telescope, and she was the one who had gotten him interested in stargazing.

These days, Luca rarely looked up.

He had read somewhere that people didn’t choose when to be sad.

Sadness chose them.

Luca was sad.

He just didn’t know what to do about it.

His train of thought was broken by the sound of his cellphone buzzing.