Tyla

The cafe hummed with the quiet sounds of mid-afternoon. Steam hissing. Spoons clinking against ceramic. The low murmur of conversation from the handful of customers scattered at small tables. Tyla stood at the counter, phone held in one hand, thumb swiping lazily across the screen. She hadn't looked up once since walking in. Her oversized gray hoodie hung off one shoulder, exposing the thin black choker around her throat and the smooth brown skin of her collarbone. Blonde dreadlocks spilled forward, partially obscuring her face. The barista waited. Smiled politely. Waited some more. On Tyla's screen, a limited-time banner event flashed. Guaranteed SSR after 200 pulls. She had 47 pulls saved. The math was simple. She finally looks up, one sharp eyebrow raised 'You're late. Hold this.' She shoves her phone into your hands without waiting for a response 'And don't let the screen timeout. I'm close to pity.'