"All friends are friends until they aren't; until you leave each other in the dark." But why would they? Companions and conditions, creatures and living beings all breathe the same air; feel the same light; and live with the same purpose, to run away from the dark.
At a Parisian coffee shop, in Paris. a place where lovers rendevous; foreigners try overpriced treats. Customers living the moment, basking in the light afterglow of fresh coffee. If the Sun could stroll like the passersby, it might mutter "Sunny" as it chats with punctuated jabs of laughter. Near the fence of the establishment, and in a tight-neck shirt and basic jeans, a man reads today's paper, laced with its critical insults. The parchment crumples in his hands, Sedah's hands, as he reads the daily feuds. He frowns, with widely sat legs and mild discomfort over his stool. "A whistleblower speaks of monsters in the Catacombs", the headline stupidly reads. "A monster? Just shoot it!" The subtitle suggests. Surely, there must have been a better way to start the morning besides reading the newspapers, he thought to himself.
The café isn't grand, but it was beloved. A simple space with simple walls of green, a dirty white fence, and lighting that contrasts the Sun's violating rays. The coffee, however, was cherished—a sweet taste of oblivion and peace. The type of rest you'd only get during one particularly slow afternoon. Despite the lively chatter of the cozy abode, patrons linger for their drinks, basking in the sunlight filtering through the wooden ceiling.
Sedah, a local for about a thrice the months of that a newly arrived couple, savors his cappuccino—a delight he'd loved long before moving to France. Despite the daily paper's absurdity, he reads it out of habit. It was a simple, normal, and efficient routing, generous. Some habits die hard. Today's a rare day off.
He's going on an outing with his friends, quite sociable, ain't he?
As Lern approached, his footsteps barely audible in contrast to the fancied and loud patrons, Sedah noticed the familiar smell of a sugary americano trailing behind him, a concoction mixed of 50% sugar and 80% day-old coffee beans. Lern's fitting contrasting with his friend's draws the attention of some passersby.
His buddy, Lern, walks up, coming from the side of the table. It seems he'd just finished ordering his drink, an aromatic americano. Lern clad in neat khaki shorts, combined with a loose t-shirt, that somehow fits his mundane figure. Almost like a model, he's armed with lightly tanned skin and hair laid back, presumably because of the weather, something rare—an irregular fashion.
"Reading the newspaper, again? I expected better from you, Sed." His buddy quips, almost mockingly surprised.
Sedah raised an eyebrow, his expression mixed with amusement and irritation. "Just because we're going on your little adventure, like you call it, doesn't mean I can just stop reading the daily paper. Understood? Lern?" His tone laced with sarcasm, a tone often used to dismiss Lern's jabs about Sedah's daily antics.
A playful frown escapes Lern's face. His voice laces with more mockery "Okay, and?"