The front of the coffee shop definitely lived up to its name… It was quaint-looking, cozy like an old library. Hopefully cleaner than one on the inside. Being near the university, this area was overpopulated with cafés, a dime a dozen, really. 

I looked to my right, where the bastard cop towered beside me, face half-shadowed by the front canopy. The uneasy feeling that settled inside me as I looked up at his face had my own twisted into a scowl. The more ‘human-like’ something was, the more annoying it became. 

“Nice, right? It’s in your budget if you want to come again,” Olive stated as he narrowed his eyes in my direction, a smile sparkling in them. I wanted to pluck them out of that orifice. 

“Hmm,” was all I responded with as I brushed past him. How much I hated my smaller frame in a moment like this, when there was a high-traffic road behind us; I could have simply bumped just hard enough for an ‘accident’ to happen. A gentle pat was felt on my lower back as push for me to go through the door. I scowled. 

“Don’t block the door, young Padawan.”

“I’m either an old man or a child; pick a lane.”

“Well, it’s all based on technicality.”

No, the fuck it ain't. I bit my lip to avoid cursing loudly in a small business. I still have some decorum, after all. Letting out a sigh, I looked up over my shoulder at him. “What do you even want from me?”

“You’re the one who followed me without knowing the topic. Maybe it’s you who has something you want from me.”

“Don’t get smart with me. ‘My first everything’, ‘Age depends on technicalities’, and other bullshit you’ve been sprouting. I’m counting down the time left until I walk out the door to find my way to my dorm.”

“Find your dorm? Are you a lost child, after all?” Oliver retorted with a chuckle. He pulled out his phone. “Let me get your number down. As a cop, I should report this.” 

I ignored him and walked up to the counter, and he followed behind me, switching his phone for his wallet. I swatted his hand away to pull out my own wallet. Opening it, I paused. Was I really this poor at this point? Glancing over my shoulder, Clifford the bastard said nothing and spoke to the barista. 

“Two iced Americanos, please. And a bottle of sparkling water, no flavour.”

I frowned. Why was he ordering for me based on one comment about dying of dehydration? I never said I liked Americanos - though I do. But also the flavourless bubbly? There’s no way it’s just ‘cop's interruption.’ I felt conflicted, and that unnerved me. Why would I feel conflicted? My body shivered from the contradiction. 

I chose not to speak and moved to look for a free table. It was only then that I noticed something off. It was quiet. Too quiet. Where’s the classic coffee playlist? Why was the air so stale, with no stray chatter from customers? Why were all the chairs tucked neatly into their assigned tables? Why... were there no dishes, not even a garbage can? I took a long and slow breath in as I carefully turned and looked around the two-floor space. 

Odd.

That was the only way to describe it. It was out of place. Were they even open? But they took our order-

Wait.

Oliver gave them our order, but I never heard the barista speak. My heart rate picked up as I pressed my lips together, my jaw locking as I slowly put my hands in my pockets and balled them into fists. 

Why did I follow him so easily? He’s a stranger. Did I just trust the fact that he’s a cop through his words alone? That was unlike me. I glanced at the door, but outside… I couldn’t see outside. I caught my breath in my throat, worried that if I let it go, it would be my last. I tried my best to hide the trembling hands, but they were getting clammy in my pant pockets. 

Scared.

Me? After all I’ve been through? Why now? He’s just a kid compared to me. What could I possibly-

“August?” Oliver’s concerned voice broke my thoughts. I turned slowly, not even realizing I had broken out in a cold sweat. As I saw his worried face enter my view, I was suddenly bombarded with overwhelming noise pollution. I looked around, confused. 

The cafe was as clear as the daylight was when we entered off the street, bright light streaming through the large pane windows, with the heavy traffic that you could still hear muffled through the glass. The incessant beep of the door every time it swung open as customers filed in and out. The crowded tables packed with the nearby uni students studying with endless cups of caffeine.

…Huh?

My words wouldn't find me, but a shaky breath escaped me. Have I gone mad? Have these regressions ruined my sanity? I could only slowly shake my head at Oliver. I could see his worry deepen as he guided me to a quieter table in the corner of the café. He handed me the bottled bubbly, cap removed, and sat across from me as I slowly gulped it down, eyes darting around the shop to confirm everything was normal. 

“I guess you weren’t joking about the dehydration after all… Must be side effects still from the health crisis earlier. It’s only been a couple of hours since you left the clinic,” Oliver commented, looking down at his watch. “Should we go to the ER instead?” 

“No!” I responded quickly, grabbing onto his wrist with the watch. I looked down, feeling an oddly hot and textured object I wasn’t expecting. Analog. It somehow looked ancient but cosmic at the same time. Wouldn’t metal usually be cold?

“Are you sure?” Olive asked, snapping me out of my train of thought. I nodded in response, giving a meek smile.

“I’m fine. Just felt overwhelmed for a moment. Besides, I already told you: clocks ticking. Get to talking while I still have the mind to listen.”