Coffee hobby

"Why did you give the exclusive interview to the Los Angeles Times?" Hugo and Joseph walked westward along Sunset Boulevard. Hugo looked at Joseph with a faint perplexity between his eyebrows and asked, "Is it because Nicholas spoke well of our movie this time?"

Recalling the grievances between Nicholas Allum and Hugo before this "A Few Good Men", besides this time, there were not many good memories. Even during the separate interview with the "Scent of a Woman" crew, Nicholas still praised and mocked Hugo in the subsequent reports. Not to mention that there were no positive influences in the previous few reports.

Therefore, when it comes to an exclusive interview, Hugo's first reaction could be any media outlet, but he never expected it would be the Los Angeles Times. This was Hugo's first-ever personal interview in his life, and he had imagined friendly communication with the journalist. Now, that dream was shattered because of Joseph's decision.

"Because they have enough influence, and because they are sincere," Joseph smiled helplessly. The Los Angeles Times unquestionably held great influence throughout the entire West Coast region, surpassing even professional film magazines like Variety and The Hollywood Reporter. The comprehensive influence of the Los Angeles Times was truly undeniable and couldn't be ignored.

"Moreover, this interview is not the only one. It's just that the Los Angeles Times arranged to be the first. Why do you mind? We will inevitably have to talk to them sooner or later," Joseph looked at Hugo unexpectedly. He couldn't understand Hugo's notion of "the first time" and thought it was just an ordinary interview. Although Hugo hadn't received any interview invitations in the past year, he had countless interviews in the previous three years. There was nothing particularly remarkable about it.

Hugo opened his mouth but couldn't directly refute it. In the end, he stuttered, "Because I have to prepare questions about the Golden Raspberry Award again, and I don't want to spoil the good mood." The Los Angeles Times was the one that showed the most interest in the Golden Raspberry Award initially.

"I thought you didn't care about the Golden Raspberry Award at all," Joseph expressed surprise. Whether it was during the awards ceremony or afterwards, Hugo remained calm and composed, appearing unaffected by the Golden Raspberry Award.

Hugo shrugged with his hands, not answering directly, but this straightforward gesture put Joseph at ease.

No one wouldn't care about the Golden Raspberry Award. Hugo just faced difficulties with self-deprecation and optimism. It was like a person accidentally falling into a puddle but not crying or feeling dejected, instead, they stood up bravely. However, it didn't mean that the person would have a fondness for that puddle. If the puddle was replaced with manure, it would be more vivid and descriptive.

It was three o'clock in the afternoon, the beginning of the most beautiful moment on Sunset Boulevard. The orange sunlight of winter cast a nostalgic hue over the vinyl record stores, used bookshops, and cafes lining the street. Palm trees stripped the sunlight, creating a mottled and fragmented effect, as if crystals were scattered all over the ground, refracting a graceful and tranquil beauty.

Leisurely strolling on such a road, temporarily setting aside the pressures of life, work setbacks, and the burden of livelihood, loosening the shoulders, and walking with vitality, chasing the shadows beneath the feet under the sunlight. It brought a sense of contentment and happiness, as if experiencing a carefree and blissful half-day of leisure.

Hugo and Joseph's footsteps stopped in front of a gray cement wall. This gray cement wall was adorned with two glass panels, each measuring seven feet high and four feet wide, spaced six feet apart. The panel on the left was a floor-to-ceiling window, while the one on the right was a sliding door. Neatly written with charcoal next to the sliding door was the number "133l", indicating their destination. Above the sliding door, in white and red letters, was the sign that read "Intellectual Coffee".

As they opened the sliding door, the rich aroma of coffee immediately mingled with the sunlight, enveloping them. It felt as if they had entered the chocolate factory of Willy Wonka, stepping into a colorful and magical world.

"Hey, over here." Hugo had just entered when a voice came from his left. He turned and saw Nicholas Allum, dressed in a black shirt. Nicholas was also a lively and handsome young man, with short golden hair and a sharply defined square face. His narrow eyes were always half-closed, as if constantly calculating something. In fact, Nicholas was only a year older than Hugo.

Nicholas warmly greeted them and shook hands with Hugo and Joseph. "So, what are your choices when it comes to coffee?"

"I'm open to anything, but Hugo can be picky," Joseph replied, sensing Nicholas's obvious initiative. As their manager, he had the responsibility of facilitating communication, so he took the lead and looked at Hugo, waiting for his answer.

Nicholas stood by, also looking at Hugo, his tone slightly upbeat. "Hugo, do you have any knowledge about coffee?"

In the past, Hugo's knowledge about coffee was mostly theoretical. He couldn't afford to drink coffee when he couldn't even have a proper meal. It was just an interest. However, since his time travel, in this one year, although other aspects didn't show much change, Hugo's coffee habits had been fully realized. He had all the professional equipment at home, such as coffee machines, coffee beans, and coffee cups.

"Not really, just a hobby, nothing to call it research," Hugo replied, turning his head to take a look at the coffee shop. Currently, Hugo could only be considered a novice coffee enthusiast. He had just moved past the basic taste of Starbucks and started brewing coffee at home. He was far from being a professional. However, the coffee shop in front of him piqued Hugo's strong interest.

The Intellectual Coffee shop had a simple decor, resembling a warehouse that had been converted. The stone-gray cement walls filled the field of vision. The interior design of the shop resembled a laboratory, with a post-modern artistic style. In the center was the coffee brewing and cash register area, filled with various professional tools. Countertops surrounded the space like a bar. There were several customers sitting there, and makeshift booths were placed along the four walls of the space. In the corner of the west wall, there was a shelf displaying all sorts of bottles and jars, some resembling flowerpots or test tubes, giving the impression of a chemistry or medical laboratory.

"Are you sure this is a coffee shop?" That was Hugo's initial thought. Although the strong aroma of coffee and the black liquid in the hands of the customers inside the shop were telling him that it was indeed a coffee shop.

Nicholas chuckled lightly, "I thought this would be your domain." The sarcasm in his words couldn't be more apparent. On the one hand, they were on Sunset Boulevard, less than a ten-minute walk from Hugo's home. On the other hand, if Hugo truly had knowledge about coffee, he should have been adept at discovering good coffee.

This sentence immediately reminded Hugo: this journalist in front of him could never be considered his friend. So Hugo shrugged and replied indifferently, "If I owned this place, I think my bank account would tell me." Hugo deliberately distorted the deeper meaning in Nicholas's words, narrowing down the definition of "territory" to the Intellectual Coffee rather than Sunset Boulevard. This rebuttal made Nicholas's smile even more relaxed.

"The coffee here is renowned for its innovation and professionalism." Nicholas seemed oblivious to Hugo's counterattack and redirected the conversation back to the café. "Although the time it takes to prepare a cup of coffee can be so long that one wants to turn away, these professional baristas have their own curated coffee menus. They experiment with new coffee concoctions based on their creative ideas and also take customer feedback for improvement."

This piqued Hugo's interest a bit. He raised an eyebrow and looked up at the menu hanging above, where he indeed saw a small blackboard labeled "Today's Barista Menu". It was evidently updated daily, but it didn't list specific coffee names; instead, it had a person's name, Nathan Skyer.

Clearly, this was the specialty of the Intellectual Coffee—baristas surprising their guests. Only when the coffee was in hand would one know what they had ordered. It was a bold experiment suited for those who enjoyed innovation.

Hugo immediately turned to the ordering attendant and said, "Give me a Nathan Skyer." The attendant smiled and nodded, while Hugo looked at Joseph. Joseph didn't have many preferences when it came to coffee. After some thought, he said, "A cup of cappuccino."

Nicholas looked at Joseph with surprise; there weren't many men who liked cappuccino. But Hugo wasn't surprised at all. Joseph had always had a particular fondness for sweets. Hugo couldn't help but recall the scene when Joseph ordered a caramel macchiato last time and insisted on extra caramel. It amused him.

Joseph was accustomed to such situations and didn't mind at all. He turned to Nicholas and said, "So, I think we can start our work now."

Nicholas quickly snapped back to attention and smiled, saying, "My work has already begun." Then he looked at Hugo and asked, "Do you like coffee? What do you usually drink?" An interview, in essence, involved delving deep into the interviewee's understanding, and the journalist controlled the direction of that understanding. Interests and hobbies were among them.

Hugo followed Nicholas to the spot he had reserved earlier. On the wooden coffee table, there was a notebook, a pen, a recorder, and a cup of coffee that was about one-third consumed. This cup of coffee didn't have any foam or milk; although the specific type was unknown, one could guess that Nicholas wasn't a supporter of sweetness—at least not when it came to coffee.

"Just an interest. Lately, I've been trying Sumatra," Hugo said as he sat down by the window, watching Nicholas pick up the recorder and fiddle with it in his palm.

"Sumatra? Bitter with a hint of sweetness, uniquely fragrant. It's indeed a great choice," Nicholas seemed to be knowledgeable about coffee as well. This way, the atmosphere between the two relaxed.