Waking up awoke to a cold, grey light creeping through his window, the air heavy with the kind of chill that clung to the skin and seeped into bones. It was a late afternoon, just shy of winter, and the world outside was muted, as if the entire town was wrapped in a blanket of frost.
He groaned quietly, rolling out of bed, the familiar comfort of his room doing little to shake the dull ache in his chest. He stretched slowly, rubbing his eyes, the early signs of a headache already taking root. He hadn't slept well, but then again, it wasn't unusual. Nights like this, when the silence was too loud and the darkness too thick, were becoming more frequent. His thoughts seemed to settle around the same thing, a weight he couldn't seem to shake.
A quick shower and a cup of coffee would help. He pulled on his jacket, a plain dark blue one, and trudged downstairs.
His mother was sitting at the kitchen table, a half-finished crossword in front of her. She glanced up, offering a tired smile.
"Morning, Sweetie."
"Hey, Mom," he muttered, moving to the counter to brew his coffee. The scent of ground beans filled the kitchen, rich and bitter, mingling with the faint smell of pancakes his mom had likely made earlier. She didn't seem to notice how the small things in their house were all a little out of place now. He didn't say anything about it.
"Anything new hun?" she asked, casual, trying to sound like it didn't matter.
"Not really," he replied, tapping the spoon against his mug, watching the steam rise.
The conversation drifted into small talk. Isaac didn't mind—small talk was easy. It was a comfortable escape. But then, as it always did, his mother's curiosity turned to something else, something that never quite felt like it belonged.
"Have you talked to Clara recently?" she asked, her voice suddenly tight, not quite casual anymore.
Isaac froze, his grip tightening around the mug. His chest tightened too, but he tried to keep his face neutral. "Uh- Yeah, she's doing well?"
"Oh, splendid, I haven't heard you talk about her for a while, Thought maybe you'd—"
"Can we– talk about something else" he snapped "please", his voice colder than he intended. His fingers dug into the sides of his mug as he struggled to breathe evenly. "We're fine, really."
His mom didn't say anything right away, just watched him for a moment before sighing and looking back down at the puzzle. The tension between them settled like frost on the windowsill, cold and thick.
Isaac didn't want to talk about Clara. Not today, not ever again.
He grabbed his coat and slipped outside, the brisk air biting at his skin as he stepped onto the cracked pavement of the quiet town. His feet moved without thinking, heading toward nowhere, the distant hum of cars and the quiet rustle of bare trees filling the space around him. He didn't have a destination, just the need to get away from home, from the prying questions, from everything that felt too close.
His mind was tangled, thoughts turning over themselves like the wind that blew around him. Clara, his mother, the hollow ache in his chest that had started to have a name.
As he passed a narrow alley, the sudden sound of shouting made him pause. He frowned, instinctively following the noise, his curiosity pulling him forward despite the unease creeping into his stomach.
A few steps down the alley, he saw them—three guys, two of them leaning in close to a third, their voices harsh, demanding something Isaac couldn't hear. The lone guy was backed up against the brick wall, his hands raised in a defensive posture, clearly outnumbered.
"Give us the money, man," one of the guys growled. "You know what happens if you don't."
Isaac's heart thudded in his chest, a pulse of adrenaline washing over him. The sight of someone in trouble made his chest tighten with something he didn't want to name. Without thinking, he stepped forward, his voice calm but firm.
"Hey. You should back off?"
The three men turned toward him, eyes narrowing. "And who are you, pretty boy," the leader said, stepping toward Isaac.
Isaac's stomach twisted, his mind racing as he held his ground. He couldn't let it go on. But as the situation escalated, he signals the guy getting picked on to leave as the leader moves closer. Isaac's confidence began to fray. He had no idea how to get out of this. He wasn't built for fighting, not in the way they were. His palms were sweaty, and his throat was dry.
Just as the leader raised his hand to strike, a sudden movement stopped him. A hand, long and strong, gripped the man's wrist, halting him mid-swing. Isaac blinked, his eyes widening as the figure emerged from the shadows.
The guy was tall, broad-shouldered, with striking blue eyes that seemed to glow, even in the dim light of the alley. His presence was commanding, a calm in the storm of aggression. Isaac felt something stir in him, something he didn't want to examine too closely.
"I wouldn't touch him if I were you," the stranger said, his voice low and smooth, like ice gliding over a river. He didn't need to raise his voice, but there was a quiet intensity in the way he spoke that made the other men hesitate.
The leader scowled, trying to wrench his arm free, but the stranger's grip was unyielding. There was no fight, no struggle—just a cold, firm certainty in the way the stranger stood, unshaken.
The three men hesitated, then backed off, muttering under their breath before they fled the alley. Isaac stood frozen, his mind struggling to catch up. The stranger moved closer to Isaac, placing his hand on Isaacs face he checked to see if he was injured. "Not hurt are you?" he asks.
"No…I'm alright" Isaac says, lost within the presence of this stranger. Isaac shakes his head and walks past the stranger. Looking over his shoulder he gives a quick thanks before trying to walk off.
"Wait!" the stranger says, turning around. Isaac pauses and looks over his shoulder again. "Can I get your name?" the stranger asks. From over his shoulder Isaac could catch a glimpse of his blue eyes reflecting the alleyways dim, moody, light. He felt strange, a push and pull that was ruining his stomach like indigestion. Turning his head forward Isaac walks away leaving the stranger in question in the alley.
The stranger paused. His lips twitched into a brief, unreadable smile.
Isaac wandered for a long moment afterwards, his heart hammering in his chest, the cold air biting at his skin. The world around him seemed far too still, and yet, all he could feel was the quiet thrum of something unresolved, something heavy, something that had been there for a long time but he hadn't wanted to admit.
His thoughts kept circling back to that figure, those blue eyes, and for reasons he couldn't explain, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just seen something important. Something that tugged at him in a way he didn't understand. And as he walked back home, the cold wind at his back felt a little heavier, a little colder than before.
The next morning Isaac woke up to a call from Etien.
"What?" Isaac asks, tired and still in bed.
"Man, I need coffee BAD!" Etien says dramatically.
"Can't you just make some at home?"
"I would but lance kind of isn't here anymore" Etien says jokingly. Etien had always had an issue with going out to get something instead of making it himself.
"Fine, I'll get dressed and meet you at the coffee shop" Isaacs bed rustles from him getting up and out of bed.
"Perfect.". The call ends and Isaac wipes his face, tired and sleepy still his gets out of bed to get dressed. As Isaac puts on his clothes he looks at the pictures of the water on his wall, reminiscent of the guy in the alleyways eyes. The thought of him lingered in the back of Isaacs mind until he finally reached the coffee shop.
For once in his life Etien was actually there early for once. In the small coffee shop the smell of warm espresso relaxes Isaacs mind as Etien waves him over. Sitting down Isaac becomes melancholic "Jeez when was the last time we went out to have coffee like this, just the two of us"
Etien laughs as he passes Isaac his coffee "way too long, as much as I love our trio with Charlie, I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss our little duo" Etien takes a sip from his coffee and lets out a relaxed sigh and leans back in his chair. Isaac thinks about how much things have changed since Charlie's arrival. Him and Clara, his friendship with Etien and Raya, there's one thing that hasn't changed though, something that happened before Charlie even arrived on the island.'
"By the way, I've been meaning to ask," Isaac says, putting down his coffee "How's Lance?"
Etiens face shifts to one of annoyance. "He's doing alright. He sobering up and might even be visiting soon"
"Wait really?! How come you haven't told me this?" Isaac says practically leaning over the table.
"Because I wasn't sure about it. I didn't want you to get too excited." Etien responds. Etien coughs to dismiss the conversation as he excuses himself to use the bathroom.
Isaac sitting alone at the table ponders about Lance's visit. His heart starts to race and his skin turns warm after a couple of seconds of deep breaths however he realizes that Etien is right, he shouldn't get too excited about this.
As Isaac floats within his own mind, a familiar voice appears from behind him. "I recognize you" a buzzing deep voice tickles Isaacs brain and sends a jolt down his back. A familiar blue eyed man sits in Etiens spot,
"You again," Isaac says coldly. As frosty as Isaac was on the outside, on the inside, he was a warm mess.
"What? You looked lonely, thought I'd stop by and fix that" He says fixing his uniform cuffs.
"You work here?" Isaac asks, confused, never having seen him before.
"I do, I guess the uniform must've given it away" he says jokingly. "I'm a little new to the whole barista thing but I must say, the uniforms look quite nice on me, don't you think?"
Isaac doesn't respond, he sits there and looks the stranger up and down. Isaac wondered who this stranger was. It's normal to meet a person more than once on an Island but under these circumstances it was a little unnatural. "So what's your name?" Isaac questions.
"Hey now, I asked you first, yesterday remember? Not to mention that now you know where I work. It's only right if you tell me at least your name first." the stranger says. Isaac, slightly annoyed, sighed before he could deny the stranger Etien came back from his bathroom vacation.
"No way" Etien says walking towards the table, "Oliver? What the hell are you doing here?" Etien says giving the stranger a friendly handshake.
"Working, can't you tell by the clothes?" He says it matches Etiens energy.
"Holy shit that's awesome. Do you and Isaac already know each other?"
"Me and…Isaac, just met actually." Oliver stands up from Etiens chair and puts his hand on Isaacs shoulder "Isaac it was a pleasure to meet you." He leans in towards Isaacs ear, "You learned where I work and even my name first, I hope next time we meet it'll be more favorable towards me." standing full upright he walks away into the back room.
"I can't believe you know Oliver. That saves me the effort of introducing you two." Etien says, still standing up grabbing his coffee. "By the way Charlie wants to hang out, you comin'?"
Isaac is frozen, with zero time to process what just happened his mind bounces all over the place "Nah, I still have somethings left to do on the farm"
Etien and Isaac depart from the shop and head their different ways. Isaac wonders about Oliver and his connection to Etien. Afterall Isaac knows all of Etiens friends so who was this guy?
By the end of today, Isaac had so many thoughts in his mind, Lance, Oliver, Charlie, Clara, there was so much to think about all Isaac could do was put his headphones in and lay on his bed in the dark.