"Where will I go if I move out now, Henry? I don't know anything," Elias's voice came out soft, low, and thoughtful.
He was sitting in a cozy coffee shop—a tiny, rustic place with fairy lights hanging from the ceiling, mismatched chairs, and the smell of fresh coffee and baked goods that made your stomach rumble.
The walls were decorated with quirky art and photos of happy customers.
Elias sighed deeply, sipping his boba tea, which looked like tiny colorful marbles in a clear cup.
When he looked up, sitting across from him was Henry.
Henry had blonde hair styled so perfectly it looked like he'd just stepped out of a hair commercial.
He had a sweet smile and deep blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with mischief. He wore a casual pink shirt—something Elias never thought would look good on anyone, let alone Henry, but surprisingly, it did.
Henry was the kind of friend who was sweet, fun, and most importantly, owned a bakery.
He was 25 year old—older than Elias—and that made Elias feel a little small, not in a bad way, but like a little brother who's always trying to catch up.
"My parents have successfully convinced me to go out," Elias said, voice tinged with annoyance, as if he'd been told to eat broccoli every day.
"They did the right thing... I mean, you need to keep going to college and find a job," Henry said proudly, taking a sip of his boba tea and winking.
"And I'm the proud owner of a bakery—the most popular one… because I make the best cookies. Don't argue."
"Yeah, sure..." Elias muttered, rolling his eyes so hard it looked like he was trying to do an eye workout.
Henry chuckled. "Come on, Elias. You need to grow up. Plus, my mom has an apartment she wants to rent. You can come. It's close to your college. You can walk—well, if you're willing to jog, crawl, or do cartwheels."
"Really? Then I'm coming. For once, you did something I actually want," Elias teased, raising an eyebrow.
Henry dramatically rolled his eyes. "Okay, kiddo... come over tomorrow. I'll even save you a cookie."
Elias grinned mischievously. "Excuse me. Kiddo? Really? That's what you're going with now?"
Henry leaned back confidently. "What? I'm older than you. And don't forget—I've got a bakery. I'm allowed to call shots."
Elias sipped his boba and then, on a whim, gave a loud chuckle. Suddenly, bubbles shot out of his mouth like a tiny geyser, splattering the table and making the nearby waiter jump back in surprise.
The waiter blinked. "Uh... sir, are you okay? Do you need a fire extinguisher?"
Elias, still laughing, pointed at his drink. "No! I'm fine—just trying to enjoy my bubbles. They're a little too enthusiastic today."
Henry burst out laughing. "You're such a kid, Elias. One day, you'll learn that bubbles are dangerous."
Elias wiped the foam from his face, still giggling. "Dangerous? No way. Bubbles are the best thing ever. They're like tiny, colorful explosions in my mouth!"
Henry shook his head, still smiling. "You're impossible, but that's why you're my favorite troublemaker."
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Henry led Elias further inside the small, cozy house. It was the kind of place that made you want to curl up with a blanket and a cup of tea.
The walls were painted in warm, buttery yellow, with a few quirky framed photos—some of Henry's bakery creations, others of his dog dressed like a chef.
The furniture was mismatched but charming: a plush armchair with a tiny tear in the armrest, a vintage couch that looked like it had survived a few earthquakes, and a tiny coffee table cluttered with stray crumbs and comic books.
"And this is the house. Hope you like it," Henry asked, smiling brightly as he threw his arms wide like a game show host unveiling a prize.
Elias stepped inside, eyes scanning the place.
"Of course I like it… but it's a little dusty," he said with a slight squint. He sniffed dramatically. "Like, really dusty."
Henry grinned. "Dust is just a sign of character. Or laziness. Either way, it's got plenty."
Elias chuckled, brushing a layer of dust off a nearby table with his sleeve. "Yeah, I'll manage… barely."
Henry clapped him on the shoulder. "Then I'll leave you here to tidy things up. I'll be at the bakery, baking my heart out."
Elias pouted slightly. "Wait—aren't you gonna help me? Clean this mess? Come on, Henry! Do something good for once."
Henry shook his head dramatically. "Oh, Eli... I wish I could stay, but I need to get back to work. Someone's gotta keep the bakery running—probably me, because if I leave it to my employees, we'd have a cookie crisis."
Elias sighed heavily, watching Henry walk toward the door. "Fine. I'll do it myself… but I'm telling your boss you abandoned me."
Henry grinned mischievously. "That would be easy if I wasn't the Boss. And oh Please... Cleaning if fun."
As soon as Henry was gone, Elias sighed and grabbed a rag.
Soon, he was on the couch, panting heavily, arms aching from dusting—he looked like he'd run a marathon in flip-flops.
The house looked a lot tidier, but Elias looked completely wiped out, hair sticking to his forehead from sweat.
He removed the apron from his neck with a dramatic flop and tossed it onto the chair like a cape.
Reaching for his phone, he whispered to himself, "I need to tell my mom I made it."
He hesitated, then paused, staring at the screen. 'I'm too tired to talk… I'll just text her. She's not that old.' He typed quickly:
" Hi Mom, Mrs. Nora rented a house for me. And I need you to send the rent money."
He hit send and waited. After a minute, his phone buzzed.
"Ok, sure, son. Also, please greet Mrs. Nora for me."
Elias smiled, relieved.
He tousled his hair and set the phone aside, already exhausted from the effort. Then he collapsed onto the couch with a groan.
"Well," he muttered, eyes half-closed, "at least I got the house... now I just need to survive."