Jaden didn’t believe in fate.

Never had.

But that night, something shifted.

He leaned against the wall, nursing a nearly empty cup of some strange, blended liquor. The music was too loud, the crowd too drunk, and he was far too tired to enjoy any of it.

Dragged there by colleagues, and subtly pressured by his boss to stick around, he already regretted coming. His eyes drifted through the chaos, searching for something, anything, that might make the night worthwhile. Nothing. Just the same tired scenes: laughter too loud, conversations slurred, and people desperate to seem like they were having fun.

He sighed, tossed back the last of his drink, and pushed through the writhing crowd toward the exit.

Then the wine hit him.

Literally.

And it was cold.

He inhaled sharply as the chilled liquid soaked through his shirt, slithering across his skin like a slap.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!”

The girl in front of him looked panicked, her eyes wide as she frantically tried to dab at the spreading stain with trembling hands.

Jaden stepped back, suppressing a shiver, and held up a hand. “It’s fine,” he said, though the flatness in his voice betrayed the lie.

It was not fine.

Without waiting for more apologies, he turned and headed to the restroom, the wet fabric clinging uncomfortably to his chest like punishment.

Inside, he splashed cold water on his face, trying to rinse off the exhaustion and frustration clinging to him more stubbornly than the wine. His reflection stared back, shadows under his eyes and a tight crease between his brows.

He looked like hell.

Peeling off the ruined shirt, he ran it under the faucet, scrubbing at the fabric. The stain refused to budge.

The door creaked open behind him.

He barely glanced up as someone approached the sink beside him.

“Wine stains are tricky,” came a calm voice. “Try white vinegar and detergent. It should come off in a few minutes.”

Jaden froze.

He turned slowly, his gaze meeting a pair of warm brown eyes—soft, observant, and somehow magnetic.

The man standing next to him wore a subtle smirk, the kind that could disarm even the most guarded soul.

And Jaden stopped.

He’d never seen someone so effortlessly captivating. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe just the moment, but something about him stirred a strange awareness in Jaden's chest.

The stranger washed his hands, then turned to leave. Just before disappearing through the door, he looked back and smiled.

Jaden blinked.

And the moment vanished.

He stood rooted, mind scrambling to catch up.

Wait.

WAIT.

By the time his senses returned, he was already moving, rushing toward the door, desperate to scan the crowd and—

Shit.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

He looked down at the soggy mess clutched in his hands, now twice as wet from his efforts.

Panic surged. He tried to pull it over his head, but the fabric stuck like glue. One sleeve twisted around his arm, the other bunched at his chest, the collar refusing to cooperate. It was like wrestling a vengeful octopus.

Eventually, he managed to yank it on, inside out.

He groaned. Gave up. Stormed out anyway.

Did he look ridiculous? Absolutely.

Did he care? Barely.

He scanned the crowd, heart racing, searching every face.

But the man was gone.

A frustrated breath escaped him as he rubbed a hand down his face. There was no reason to linger.

So, he called a taxi and went home.

The next morning brought a dull headache.

It was his day off, but staying cooped up in his apartment felt suffocating. He had work to do—his column needed attention, but first, coffee.

A friend had recommended a spot nearby.

When he arrived, the place didn’t look like much. A small wooden storefront, a chalkboard sign resting just outside the door with careful cursive reading:

Solstice Café

Stars and a rising sun doodled around the name.

The windows were fogged from the warmth inside, and as he opened the door, the aroma of roasted beans and vanilla wrapped around him.

It was cozy. Quiet. Not crowded.

Perfect.

Jaden chose a table tucked away from the rest of the customers, pulled out his laptop, and tried to settle in for a writing session.

Then—

“Good morning. Welcome to Solstice Café. What can I get for you?”

He looked up.

And his breath caught.

It was him.

The stranger from the night before.

Jaden stared, momentarily struck dumb.

“Sir?” the man asked gently. “Would you like to order something?”

Jaden blinked, jaw tightening. “Sorry. Got distracted,” he said, forcing composure. “Just a coffee. Plain.”

The other man gave a knowing smile, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Of course.”

Jaden watched as he walked back to the counter.

He doesn’t remember me.

Of course not.

Why would he?

Jaden’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, unmoving. Thoughts scattered.

A few minutes later, the man returned and placed the cup gently in front of him.

“Here you go. Plain coffee. Anything else?”

Jaden shook his head. “No, thank you.”

“Alright,” he said with a soft smile. “Just raise your hand if you need anything. I’ll be happy to help.”

Then he walked away.

Jaden stared at his coffee, heart thudding painfully in his chest.

For the next hour, he typed nothing.

Instead, he kept glancing toward the counter. Toward him.

There was something there.

Something he couldn’t name.

When the cup was empty, Jaden shut his laptop. Reaching into his bag, he pulled out a notepad, tore off a sticky note, and wrote in cursive:

I felt something the moment I saw you.

I’m not sure what it is,

but I plan to embrace it anyway.

—J

He pressed the note onto the table, paid for his drink, and left.

And for the first time in a long time...

He smiled.