Monica turned back toward Vasil just before leaving the café and said with a guilty look,
"Are you sure it's okay?"
Vasil gave her a reassuring smile and said,
"I told you, it's fine. Go be with your kids."
Monica stared at him for a moment, then gave him a faint smile.
"Thank you."
Just before leaving, she added,
"Merry Christmas!"
Vasil didn't bother replying; Monica hadn't waited for an answer.
After Monica left, the café fell into silence. On the snowy night of December 25th, no one stopped by an old café tucked away in the back alleys of New York.
Vasil was completely alone.
He pulled a music notebook from beneath the counter, a pencil resting snugly between its pages. He sat down on a chair, leaned back against the wall, crossed one leg over the other, and placed the notebook on his lap. He plugged a white pair of earphones into his phone and slipped one into his left ear. He closed his eyes to focus on the music.
The piece was still raw, unfinished; and it felt as though even the spirit of Christmas hadn't managed to help Vasil complete it.
He listened to the first ten seconds, paused, and played it again from the beginning. A small frown of concentration formed between his brows. He stopped the track once more and tried to mimic the motion of playing it, holding the pencil in his hand like a bow.
The music sounded right, but the movement didn't, and despite countless attempts, Vasil hadn't been able to make Khalid understand that.
He listened to the second ten seconds. That part didn't feel right either. He had wasted far too much time on this piece and wasn't satisfied with it at all.
He looked down at his notebook, trying to find the discord at least among the notes written on the page. He wrote, erased, crossed things out, erased again, and rewrote; this time pressing harder.
It led nowhere, and that only frustrated him more.
He glanced at the watch on his wrist. Its brown hands showed 11:45. He thought it was a good time to close the café, so he stood up and brushed the eraser crumbs off his pants.
When he lifted his head, he saw someone's shadow by the door, someone whose daily presence he'd grown used to without even realizing it.
Stefan stared at him for a moment, then said,
"Nice hat."
Vasil instinctively reached up to his head. He had completely forgotten about the red Santa hat.
"Thanks. Monica's idea to attract customers."
Stefan asked,
"Did it work?"
Vasil shrugged.
"And yet you're still open," Stefan said.
"Actually, I was just about to close."
"Oh."
"Shouldn't you be with your family?" Vasil asked.
"I just got back from them. What about you?"
"Irina and Lance rented a cabin outside the city for Christmas. It's just me for now."
"Ah."
Silence settled between them for a moment. Then Vasil asked, while Stefan was still standing by the door,
"So, what would you like?"
Stefan raised an eyebrow.
"I thought you were closing."
Vasil shrugged again.
"Yeah, but I can make you a hot chocolate in my studio. You look… cold."
At that, Stefan brushed the snow out of his hair.
"That actually sounds… like a good idea."
***
Vasil pushed the old door open with a loud creak, then stepped aside to let Stefan enter.
"Welcome!"
Stefan walked in and looked around the small apartment. Aside from a few chairs, an old couch, and a wooden table surrounded by them, the living room was filled with musical equipment, most of which he didn't even know the names of.
Still standing near the door, Stefan took off his green scarf and coat so the place wouldn't get wet. Vasil came in after him and dropped his own things on the floor by the door, then closed it and said,
"You can put your stuff on the couch."
Stefan did. When he lifted his head and glanced toward the kitchen, he froze.
Two glowing orbs shone in the darkness.
Vasil stepped forward, first looking at Stefan's reaction, then toward the kitchen.
"Oh right. I forgot to warn you."
Stefan stared at him in disbelief. Vasil walked into the kitchen and flicked the light switch.
That was when Stefan saw a black cat sitting on the kitchen table.
Vasil pointed at it.
"That's Viola."
Stefan took a deep breath.
"You have a cat."
Vasil loosened the hair tie holding his hair back and, as he wrapped it around his wrist, said,
"I have three. You might want to watch your step."
His jet-black hair fell over his shoulders. Stefan's gaze lingered on it. Something inside him wanted to touch it. He forced that thought down.
Vasil moved around the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets.
"Make yourself at home. Sit wherever you like."
Stefan tore his gaze away before Vasil noticed and looked around instead. Every seat was occupied, either by a musical instrument or a coat; leaving him no real choice. So he went into the kitchen and sat on one of the chairs by the table.
Viola shot him a dirty look and jumped down from the table.
Stefan said,
"I think your cat hates me."
Vasil set two glasses on the table and replied,
"I'm sure the other two will change her mind!"
Before Stefan could ask why Vasil sounded so confident, Vasil pulled two cartons of milk out of the fridge and added,
"They love sleeping under this table. Just don't wake them by accident."
Stefan bent down to look beneath the table. Vasil was right. Two large cats, one white, one gray; were dozing there.
As he heated the milk, Vasil asked,
"Don't they look familiar?"
Stefan gave him a questioning look, then glanced back at the cats. A moment later, as if something clicked, he asked cautiously,
"Tick and Tock?"
Vasil turned to him with a grin.
"Bingo."
Stefan looked at Vasil, then back at the cats.
"How did you find them?"
Vasil shrugged.
"I never lost them."
"They've gotten so big!"
"Yeah… it's been a lot of years."
Vasil poured the remaining milk from the carton into a bowl and set it on the floor by the cabinet. At the familiar sound of the bowl hitting the ground, the cats opened their eyes and stretched.
Stefan watched them lazily pad toward the milk.
"How many?" Vasil asked.
Stefan looked up to see Vasil shaking a bag of marshmallows. He sighed. They were definitely both too old for marshmallows in their hot chocolate.
"Two."
Vasil nodded and opened the bag. A moment later, he walked over with two steaming mugs, the warm, sweet scent rising from them. He sat beside Stefan and placed one mug in front of him.
"I usually have cake at home too, but Khalid finished it all this morning."
Stefan wrapped both hands around the mug.
"This is more than enough. Thanks…"
After a brief pause, he asked,
"Are you still in touch with Khalid?"
Vasil replied,
"We work together. I compose the music, and he writes the lyrics and sings."
"He's a singer now?"
"A rapper."
A smirk appeared on Stefan's lips.
"sounds like him."
Vasil rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, he's got a weird talent for talking nonstop."
Stefan muttered under his breath,
"Coming from you…"
"Did you say something?"
"No. Nothing."
Stefan glanced toward the living room.
"You've got interesting equipment."
Vasil followed his gaze.
"I need it for composing."
Stefan took a sip of his hot chocolate. It was too sweet.
"I thought you'd be more into teaching by now."
"Composing is my main job. I teach because I haven't managed to get a steady income from music yet."
"Have you released anything?"
Vasil shrugged.
"A few pieces. Everything that's been released is on my Spotify account."
"Interesting."
"Yeah."
Vasil took a few sips of his own hot chocolate, then asked,
"What about you?"
Stefan shrugged.
"Nothing special. I'm doing my internship at a law firm for now."
"Interesting."
"Yeah."
Vasil looked away and gazed out the kitchen window.
"The snow's getting heavier."
Stefan followed his gaze.
"You're right."
Without looking at him, Vasil said,
"You can stay here tonight if you want."
Stefan shook his head.
"I have somewhere to be tomorrow morning."
Vasil turned back to him.
"Then remind me to give you an umbrella."
Stefan looked down at his hot chocolate, it was no longer steaming.
"Alright. Thanks."
Vasil didn't reply.
He just smiled.