The dim neon glow of Celatus, nestled in its familiar alley, was a beacon of post-work relief. Even when I wasn’t indulging in their drinks, the atmosphere alone was a soothing balm. And those cheese fries… a taste of heaven after a hellish day. 

Alex, the ever-present owner and bartender, greeted us with a nod and a gesture towards our usual table in the corner. 

“Fresh face in the crew?” Alex asked, his hand outstretched to Eric.

“Eric,” he replied, a polite smile accompanying the handshake. “Nice to meet you.”

The smile lines around Alex’s eyes deepened as he returned Eric’s greeting.

“Alex, I run this joint. So, a new colleague?”

My eyes were already drifting over the familiar menu as I nodded confirmation to Alex.

“The usual suspects, I presume?” Alex’s gaze held a hint of amusement.

Avery and I nodded, our focus briefly snagged by the basketball game flickering on the wall-mounted TV.

“And you, friend?” Alex’s grey eyes, sharp despite their softness, focused on Eric.

“Something smooth,” Eric replied, his tone relaxed.

A comfortable quiet descended, the low hum of conversations and the soft lighting wrapping us in Celatus’s familiar embrace. Then, the unmistakable, mouthwatering scent of frying potatoes filled the air. Alex reappeared, the golden mountain of cheese fries landing in the center of our table, followed by our selections: Avery’s tangy Moscow Mule, Eric’s amber bourbon, and my sweet strawberry daiquiri.

“All set for now, or can I tempt anyone with anything else?” Alex’s gaze lingered on each of us.

We all shook our heads as Alex turned to leave, his brown hair flipping slightly.

My fingers reached for a liquid-gold covered fry, but Avery snagged it just before I could. He plopped it in his mouth, a dramatic gasp escaping him as the steaming fry burned his tongue. I stuck my tongue out mockingly, a silent that’s what you get for his theft. I reached for another, blowing it cool before finally taking a bite. Eric watched our brief exchange, a soft laugh escaping him as he took a sip of his drink.

“You two look like siblings,” he commented, his clear eyes resting on us.

Avery swallowed, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Well, we’ve known each other since college. What, like ten years now?” His honey hair shifted slightly as he glanced at me for confirmation.

I looked up, considering his words. “Wow, yeah, I guess it has been that long.”

The sweet strawberry in my drink offered a pleasant contrast to the savory, cheesy fries as I took a long sip.

“So, you have a bit of a sweet tooth, huh?” Eric commented, the scent of bourbon wafting slightly as he took another drink.

I nodded. “Definitely. I’m not a huge fan of the taste of alcohol, so anything that sweetens it up is a win. Plus,” I chuckled slightly, “I’m a bit of a lightweight, so I figure I should really enjoy the bit I can drink.”

Eric listened with a nod, his gaze then turning towards Avery. “And what about you, Avery? Are you much of a drinker?”

Avery’s green eyes locked with Eric’s, a brief, almost competitive spark in the air. “Eh, I can hold my own.”

With a subtle lift of his glass, Avery offered a silent toast to Eric. I eagerly joined in, raising my sweet concoction. “To Eric! Here’s to an amazing partnership!”

Our glasses clinked together with a satisfying sound, and we each took a good sip of our drinks. 

The warmth of the drinks seeped through me, softening the sharp edges of the bar and blurring my vision. The energetic commentary of the basketball game became a distant drone, a backdrop to the exquisite saltiness of the fries mingling with my growing buzz. Avery’s laughter carried over from the bar where he was deep in conversation with Alex and a local I vaguely knew. I focused on Eric’s quiet intensity as he watched the game, his unreadable expression holding my attention. My head fell into my hands, a sudden, almost dizzying realization hitting me. Could it truly be him? After all this time, in this place? The odds were astronomical. A wave of heat flooded my cheeks as I recognized the length of my unwavering stare. I stared down at the scarred surface of the wooden table, my fingers tracing the lines almost unconsciously. 

Gathering my courage, I looked up, trying to get a quick, covert peek. But he was already looking back.

“Is there something on my face?” A gentle chuckle broke the silence.

Almost two decades. It was a lifetime ago. Was he still the same prideful but kind boy I remembered? What would I even say after all this time? I shifted in my seat, subtly closing the distance between us, my slightly unfocused eyes trying to sharpen their view. A slow tilt of my head, a lingering observation. The resemblance was too strong to ignore. Gathering a fragile bit of courage, I finally spoke.

“Hey, um, sorry,” I began, the words feeling a little clumsy. “This is going to sound so incredibly weird, and I’m prepared to be completely wrong and utterly embarrassed, but I’ve been wondering since yesterday… You just look so much like someone I used to know. A childhood friend… Are you… by any chance the Eric I knew? …I used to call you…”. A beat of silence hung in the air, the adult me cringing slightly at the childish name. Ultimately, I pushed past the embarrassment. “…Wolfie…?”

A slight squint narrowed his eyes, a look of surprised recognition dawning on his face. He leaned closer, his gaze searching mine. Then, that laugh. A familiar sound that sparked a warmth in my chest I hadn’t realized I’d been missing. He set his drink down and playfully poked my forehead.

“Moonie?”

My breath hitched. Moonie. A silly, perfect nickname born from our childhood selves: Wolfie for him, Moonie for me. It had felt like such a clever secret then.

“It can’t be,” he said, a mixture of disbelief and delight in his voice. “I almost didn’t recognize you! Your hair used to have a life of its own, and you were so short!”

He offered a sheepish grin, playfully patting my now-smooth hair, exaggerating the contrast. I rolled my eyes, but a genuine smile tugged at my lips. A smile that felt… real. Unlike the forced ones of recent memory. A fragile hope bloomed within me. Could this be a turning point? A reconnection with a past untouched by recent pain? He continued to look at me, and the familiar heat crept into my cheeks. His teasing smile softened into something tender.

“But your eyes… they haven’t changed at all. Still so beautiful.”

Embarrassment made me want to disappear, but my hand instinctively reached out, giving his shoulder a light, playful punch. A shared laugh filled the space between us, the joy of the reunion clearly mutual. A comfortable silence followed, our eyes holding each other’s gaze for a moment before he spoke, his deep voice a soothing sound. 

“I missed you.” The sincerity in his tone was unmistakable.

----------------------------------------------------

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Art: Petra Eggert