She’s young, barely out of her teens, with that wide-eyed innocence the world hasn’t yet chipped away. Her ponytail bounces as she wipes down the counter, humming softly to herself.
There’s something refreshing about the unjaded brightness, like she still believes kindness is the default rather than the exception. It makes me almost envious, because I was never allowed to view the world that way.
“Thank you,” I say as I hand over the empty cup and a few spare coins for a tip, sliding them across the counter with a smile. “That was honestly the best coffee I’ve had in years.”
She beams as her cheeks flush a soft pink at the compliment, and she tucks the tip into her apron pocket with a quick, grateful nod.
I lean in a touch closer, keeping my voice casual. “Do you mind if I ask you something?”
“Oh… uh, sure,” she says, glancing toward the kitchen and making sure there’s no one in line before giving me her attention again.
“I’m trying to track down an old friend. He’s a total coffee addict, so I figured this place might be on his regular route. I was wondering if you’ve maybe seen him around?”
Her shoulders ease a fraction, and she nods for me to continue.
“His name’s Bash. A little shorter and thicker than me, pretty chestnut skin, and some dreamy hazel eyes.”
She giggles in a light, bubbly sound as she ducks her head for a moment. “Sounds like you have a crush on him.”
I flash her a grin that’s more genuine than I expected, the corners of my mouth lifting easily. “Guilty as charged. It’s been a few years since I saw him, but his hair is tightly coiled, and he always kept it fairly short… above his ears. Oh, and his eyebrow and nose are pierced.”
Her mouth pulls to one side in consideration, brows knitting faintly as she thinks, then she exhales uncertainly with a small shake of her head.
“I… think I might’ve seen someone like that come through, but I can’t be sure.”
“How long ago?”
“A few days… a week, maybe?” She glances toward the ceiling like the answer might be written there. “It’s so busy here, it’s hard to keep track of people who aren’t regular customers.”
“He might’ve been with a woman with blue hair?” I rush to add, leaning in a bit closer.
Someone shouts her name from the kitchen doorway, and both of us turn towards the sound. A man stands there, his thick arms crossed over his chest as his eyes fix on us with unmistakable suspicion. He aggressively dries a mug with a frayed towel that he twists harder than necessary, knuckles whitening around the fabric.
“I should get back to work,” she says with an unspoken apology.
I swallow the urge to press harder as I give her an understanding smile. “How about I stop by again in a couple of days to see if anything has jogged your memory?”
She’s uneasy now that she’s being watched, but she gives a reluctant nod.
I offer one last quick smile and step away before I draw too much attention. Grudgingly, I admit to myself that I should probably lie low for a couple of days.
A few curious humans noticing me isn’t the end of the world, but the military has informants everywhere. Too many people here are loyal, or scared enough to act like it, and if word got back that I’m alive…
The thought sends a chill down my spine despite the heat.
Life pulses around me as I hit the sidewalk. People hurry along, walking or jogging to wherever they need to be. I take the long way back, scanning faces as they pass and appreciating the individuality they’re able to show here.
Every shade of skin, every age, every style. Short blonde hair and a baby-pink dress, tight-woven braids atop a crisp navy suit, and ripped jeans under an oversized black hoodie that makes me sweat just looking at it. They have access to luxuries those in the wilds could barely imagine, and nostalgia tugs hard as memories surface.
This city used to be my home, though I was rarely permitted to walk these streets. It always felt like such an adventure back then.
Cafés spilling laughter onto the sidewalks, shops bright with color, and concerts drifting across the park square. Feeling like you’re on top of the world in an apartment in the tallest tower, watching the city lights glitter below. So high in the sky, you can see the dust clouds rolling in the wasteland beyond.
That’s the point, isn’t it?
If you’re too busy looking at what you have, you forget the cost.
You forget you’re supposed to be angry.
