Stefan looked around the coffee shop. It was cozy and warm, filled with the pleasant smell of coffee and cake. Wide white bow windows on the lateral walls were covered with sheer curtains decorated with tiny flower patterns.
Two green benches stood beside the windows. Classic wooden bistro tables and chairs were arranged in the center, and tall wooden stools were lined up in front of the counter.
"I didn't know there was such a nice place around," he said.
Vasil, who came in after shaking his black umbrella dry outside, replied, "That's because it's not on the main street. I found it by chance when I was wandering around the alleys."
The only other person there was a young woman behind the counter.
Vasil waved at her and called out, "Hi, Monica! Sorry I'm late."
Monica looked up when she heard Vasil's voice and smiled. "Vasil! You're just on time!"
They walked forward and Vasil pointed at Stefan. "Mon, this is Stefan, one of my old friends."
Then he turned to him. "Stefan, this is Monica. She's the granddaughter of the owner."
Monica offered her hand and shook his. "Yeah, but my grandma likes him more than me. Nice to meet you, Stefan!"
He was about to say something, but Vasil interrupted, moving behind the counter. "Aren't you going to be late?"
Monica jumped and pulled off her apron. "Damn it, you're right!"
After putting his violin case aside, Vasil took her apron and hung it on the coat hanger behind them, then took off his own black jacket and hung that up as well.
Monica grabbed her bag and ran to the door. "Bye, guys!"
"Have a safe drive!" Vasil called after her.
Then he put on another dark brown apron.
Stefan sat on one of the stools. "You work here too?"
"Occasionally, only when they're short staffed. Coffee or tea?"
"A latte, please."
He took off his coat and placed it on the stool beside him. Vasil nodded with a smile and went toward the coffee maker. "I used to work here full time after leaving Lance's restaurant."
Stefan didn't want the conversation to end, so he asked, "Why did you quit that job?"
Vasil shrugged. "Because I moved out, and his place is far from my studio."
"So now you have a studio?"
"It's just my home with some composing stuff. What about you, do you live nearby?"
"Kinda. I have a forty minute walk from my college," he said with a shrug.
"Well, if you get tired on the way, my studio's door is always open for you."
"Is your studio around here?" Stefan asked.
Vasil smiled, then pointed upward. "It's upstairs."
"Wait, here? Really?"
"Yep. I'll show it to you anytime you want."
Stefan was about to speak again, but paused when Vasil took a large turquoise cup in one hand and the milk frother in the other.
He started pouring the steamed milk into the espresso, slowly and carefully. His hand moved in small circles, then short straight lines, then tiny curves. The white foam began to form a special shape on the surface of the coffee.
Stefan sat silently, watching him with curiosity.
Vasil leaned closer, concentrating on every detail. He added one last small line, then stopped and took a quiet breath. Then he smiled victoriously.
He turned the cup so his friend could see it clearly and set it down in front of him.
"Here you are," he said. "A crown just for you."
Stefan stared at the cup in silence. The word "crown" caught him off guard.
"It's beautiful," he said, looking up at Vasil. "Thanks."
Vasil smiled wide. "You're welcome!"
The bell rang and the door opened. A young couple entered the coffee shop. They took off their wet coats and sat on the window benches.
Vasil glanced at Stefan warmly, then walked toward the new customers.
Stefan followed him with his eyes, then looked back at his cup. He took a sip of his latte. It was delicious. He felt a warmth inside that he knew wasn't only from his drink.
***
After an hour, when the rain slowed and the café grew crowded, Stefan left.
It was seven p.m. when he reached his apartment. He put his key in the lock, opened the door, and stepped into the silent, dark house.
He turned on the lights, hung his coat, and went into the kitchen.
He poured himself a glass of cold water from the refrigerator and swilled it. He leaned his back against the counter and let the melody of silence fill his ears and quiet the violin sound in his mind and the march of his heart.
Everyone wants to believe that feelings fade as time passes, but emotions aren't like paint on a wall. They're more like flames beneath the ashes, waiting patiently for a spark to flare up and burn everything down.
Stefan had felt that spark as soon as he recognized Vasil, but he wasn't aware of the repercussions of it. He couldn't believe he still carried it inside him.
But he wasn't the same confused teenage boy anymore. Now he had the chance to change the past, and this time, he wouldn't let anything destroy this friendship.
Neither his fears, nor his emotions.
***
Vasil opened the door of his studio, stepped inside, and closed it with a kick.
"I'm home!" he called into the silence.
Then he sighed. He set his violin case and jacket on the floor and went into the kitchen.
He poured himself a glass of water from the faucet and drank it.
He leaned his hands against the sink and stared downward the same way Stefan had stared at him all day
Blank, aghast, and with a hint of sadness.
Even disappointed. Maybe.
Probably.
Definitely.
The ring of his phone pulled him back to reality before he could drown any further in the stormy ocean of his thoughts.
"Vas, where are you?"
It was Khalid. Vasil took a deep breath, trying to focus. "Home. What about you?"
"Home as well."
"Huh?"
A black cat jumped onto the counter and walked toward Vasil. He gently stroked her fur. "Weren't you supposed to come here?"
"Yeah, but it's raining and my car broke down."
Vasil shifted his attention from the call to the cat the moment he understood why Khalid was calling. "Oh. Okay."
"Also, my lyrics are incomplete."
"Got it."
"So… you don't mind?"
"No."
There was a silence on the other end of the line.
The cat rubbed against his hand. A faint smile touched Vasil's lips as he kept petting her.
After a moment, Khalid asked, "Is there someone with you?"
"Viola is here," Vasil said, still playing with the cat with one hand.
"Stop playing with your cats when you're talking to me!"
"Okay." He didn't stop.
"Are you free on Friday?"
Vasil's hand paused mid-air as he thought, catching the cat off guard. "I think I am."
"Then I'll come over. We can finally finish composing the song."
"Okay, see you then."
"Are you really okay?"
"Yeah. Why do you ask?"
"Because you usually nag me when I delay making a song."
"…You want me to nag you?"
"…No."
"Then bye."
Vasil hung up and sighed.
He looked at Viola. "Aren't you hungry?"
He went to the cabinet, looking for some cat food.