Cuppa
When Brett arrived, the line for Cursed Coffee was almost 3 blocks long; he took a deep breath and stepped into the queue stoically (everyone knew that, if you complained, they'd refuse to take your order when you got to the mic). Nondescript, the thing moved to a new location every day, a black kiosk suddenly found on a side street or in the middle of a field at the edge of town. "CC Watchers", the biggest online fan group, obsessively predicted and tracked the pop-up and immediately shared the address of Where CC Is Today; Brett had received a text alert at 6am. You never saw the face of the baristas, as the black mirrored panels only had a service gap wide enough to take currency and shove a coffee through; hands - you only saw the hands. "Wow," Brett whispered to himself, surprised to find himself near the front (the Cursed Coffee line legendary for moving almost too quickly to be believed). "Play To Win," he heard someone say; "You Will Pick Me" was called out, followed by a soft voice that ordered a double shot of "Revenge Is Sweet". At the gap, Brett centered himself and said, "What Passes For Hope" in a clear, strong voice and set his money on the counter. A cup appeared almost instantly and the rich bittersweet aroma was incredible. Walking away, he took his first sip; why wait? Sure, he was going to feel like hell later, after sunset - at the notorious "CC Crash", but he'd be able to stay optimistic until then.