Reginald Kirk

"Iced oat latte, please," Reggie looked into the eyes of the barista; her hair seemed like it had gone through a lot, ruffled, a bit out of the ordinary. Reggie started wondering what happened. He started wondering ----

"--- That would be 4.05," the barista interrupted Reggie's train of thought, unaware of what she had done.

"Alright," Reg replied, handing her a five-dollar bill. Reg looked sad.

He slowly paced to the counter, pulling up Insta to stalk whatever his ex had posted just a few hours ago. Moments later, his order was done. Reg picked up his drink with one hand while holding his phone with the other. He struggled a bit, moving left and right, to try and stick his straw between his index and middle finger while his phone attempted to block his frivolous actions. Ultimately, though, Reg emerged victorious. He walked a few steps to find a seat, stabbing his straw brutally into his latte while starting to sip away.