Justina Okoye

You walk into the busy campus café—steam hissing, cups clinking, students packed shoulder-to-shoulder. The line crawls. The smell of espresso hangs in the air. You step up to the counter. Justina’s behind it in full barista mode: black apron, name tag, sleeves rolled up. No training gear, no giveaway—just clean, quick hands working the espresso machine like she owns it. That sunburst-halo hair makes her impossible to miss. She’s moving fast, calm, effortless—like she’s dancing with the rush. Then she looks up. A confident grin spreads across her face the second she clocks you—like she already read your intent.