He stepped outside, the cold air biting at his skin as the weight of the moment settled in. A vacation. Three weeks of utter freedom. And for the first time in years a chance to glimpse at the life he was forced to leave behind.
But as he headed towards the shadows of the city, one thought lingered in his mind: Would Evie even want to see him?
Jarad straddled his motorcycle, the cold air biting at his face as he kicked the engine to life. The roar of the machine vibrated through his body, and for a moment, the sound drowned out the thoughts that threatened to consume him.
The road stretched ahead, a winding ribbon of asphalt cutting through the barren wasteland. The world outside the Dome was a shadow of what it once was, desolate and unforgiving. But inside? Inside the Dome was one of humanity's last bastion, a sprawling metropolis of artificial life and controlled environments.
He drove for miles, the glow of the Dome growing larger on the horizon. Its translucent surface shimmered like a massive soap bubble, a monument to survival and science.
Jarad pulled up to the checkpoint at the Dome's entrance. A pair of guards in sleek, silver uniforms stepped forward, their faces hidden behind reflective visors.
"ID?" one of them asked, his voice monotone through the helmet's speakers.
Jarad handed over a sleek card, the corners worn from years of use. The guard scanned it, the soft beep of the machine echoing in the stillness.
"Three weeks," the guard said, handing the card back. "Don't overstay."
Jarad nodded, his helmet hiding the twitch of irritation that crossed his face. He hated the Dome. Too many eyes, too many rules. But this was where she was.
Once inside, he parked his bike in a crowded lot, the hum of machinery and distant chatter filling the air. The streets were vibrant, filled with people going about their lives under the Dome's artificial sky.
He made his way to a small kiosk near the entrance, where he rented a change of clothes. His all-black combat attire would stick out like a sore thumb here. He rifled through the racks until he found something absurdly out of character: a short-sleeved button-up shirt covered in bright, oversized flowers and a pair of faded jeans.
Jarad grimaced at his reflection in the mirror but couldn't deny the effectiveness of the disguise. He looked... ordinary.
Satisfied, he left the kiosk and began his walk through the Dome's winding streets. He had memorized her address, her routine, everything he could find. It wasn't stalking, he told himself. It was precaution.
The coffee shop wasn't far. It was a small, cozy place tucked between a bakery and a bookshop. A bell jingled softly as he stepped inside, the smell of roasted coffee beans and pastries wrapping around him like a warm blanket.
There she was.
Evie stood behind the counter, her dark hair pulled into a neat ponytail. She wore the shop's uniform—a pale blue apron over a white shirt—and her face was slightly flushed from the heat of the espresso machine.
Jarad froze.
She was smiling. Laughing with a customer as she handed them their drink. It was a smile he hadn't seen in years, one that brought back memories of simpler times. Times before everything went wrong.
He stepped forward hesitantly, his pulse quickening with every step.
"Welcome!" Evie's voice was bright and welcoming as she looked up at him. For a moment, their eyes met, and Jarad's breath caught in his throat.
She didn't recognize him. Of course, she didn't.
"What can I get for you?" she asked, tilting her head slightly.
Jarad opened his mouth, but no words came out. All he could do was stare, caught between the overwhelming need to speak and the fear of what might happen if he did.
"Sir?" she prompted, her smile faltering slightly.
"Uh..." He cleared his throat, forcing himself to focus. "Just a coffee. Black."
"Coming right up," she said, turning to prepare the drink.
As she worked, Jarad slid his hand into his pocket, his fingers brushing against the small, worn photograph he always carried. It was the last picture taken of them together, back when they were just kids.
He had come to see her. To make sure she was okay. But now that he was here, he wasn't sure he had the strength to tell her who he was.
Evie placed the cup on the counter, her smile returning. "Here you go. Anything else?"
Jarad shook his head, his voice barely above a whisper. "No. Thank you."
He took the cup and stepped to the side, his mind racing. He had waited years for this moment, but now that it was here, he felt more lost than ever.
What if she didn't want him in her life? What if she was better off without him?
For now, he stayed in the corner of the shop, watching her from a distance. Trying to summon the courage to say what he had come here to say.
But the words wouldn't come.
Not yet.
Minutes felt like hours in Evie's perspective, never catching a break as she flitted from table to table, wearing an automatic smile on her face. The faces of the customers all merged in a blur, coming and going out of the café. However, there was one face that remained constant. It was the guy with the flower shirt she thought looked odd on him. The one that ordered a black coffee.
Others eventually went to their respective destinations but he stayed, scrolling through his phone as he took small sips of his coffee. Sometimes she felt him staring, and sometimes she would stare back to see if he would back down. But he wouldn't, holding her gaze until her attention was called to something else.
Weirdly enough, she didn't mind. Yes, a person she had never known kept giving her glances and didn't even bother to hide it. Not to mention the unreadable expression he had on his face when she asked for his order. But it was oddly... comforting?
Like the time she was almost bullied at the background, if it wasn't for her father keeping a watchful gaze on her. It made her feel safe, like an overprotective brother watching over his little sister.
Her eyes grew dim at the thought, flashes of a blurry face playing and laughing along with her. Amidst the feeling of hopelessness and hunger, there were fleeting moments of laughter and joy - not of her parents but .... someone else. Her memory was hazy but she was certain her family wasn't always a number of three. And unless her parents tried to change the subject whenever she popped the question, she was always going to have that question unanswered.
At a customer approaching, she quickly puts on a fake smile and asks for her order, falling back into the daily routine of her job.
As the day pressed on, the customers began to dwindle and soon enough, it was closing time. Thankful, it wasn't her turn to close the café, she waved a goodbye to her colleagues before going her merry way, the exact money used to hail a taxi in her hand.
As she did, a bakery caught her eye, displaying the most beautiful batch of croissants she had ever seen. She practically drooled as the warm yellow lights in the bakery, catching the sheen of the golden crust and making it look ethereal. She bit her lip as she stared at the bill.
A tasty croissant was not worth it, not when she was using the last bit of her energy just so she could wave a taxi. Besides, she heard that a new gang had moved to these parts. Having grown up in a shady place, she knew they would terrorize people at any chance thy could get to spread their authority and make themselves known. She couldn't take that chance of crossing paths with them.
And yet, the small bell of the bakery rang as she exited the place, the pastry wrapped in a tissue.
Evie hummed in delight as she tore into the snack, pleasantly surprised when she tasted the chocolate feeling.
Okay, maybe the croissant was worth it...
The positive thoughts comes to a halt as she is forced to stop between two routes. On one hand she could keep going straight, where the streets were wide, which means shops would still be open and a lot of people would be present. On the other hand, she could take a left and go down this alley which was secluded, but a faster way to get home. Provided she was lucky enough to not encounter the new gang.
Exhaling deeply, she decides on taking the risk and going down the alley. Her nose scrunches up as she can't help but take in the terrible odour emitting from the trash littering the ground. She held in a groan as she stepped over a questionable looking pile of brown goo, hoping it wasn't what she thought it was.
Faint laughter suddenly fills her ears, the sound of chatter becoming clearer as she nears the opening at the end of the alley. Her blood runs cold at the sight of them - leaning against the walls while surrounded by the hazy smoke coming from their cigarettes. Her breath hitched, movements frozen as she observed them.
She swallowed, willing her heart to stop speeding as her mind raced to think of a plan.
It was okay. Really, it was. All she had to do was turn around without making any sound.
In an attempt to turn back, she takes a step back, stepping on a canned drink. The action creates a crunching noise, shattering her plan to pieces.
.....shoot.
The chatter dies down, their attention now drawn to the female. The men exchange looks and vile smirks as they all stood up properly, looking even more menacing as the darkness loomed on their figures.
Evie tries to hide her trembling, immediately turning around to escape but she runs into a wall. Only it wasn't even a wall, it was two buff looking men with their yellow stained teeth on display as they smiled down cruelly at her. A shuddering gasp leaves her lips as she backs away, only to stumble into the others.
"Please.... I don't want any trouble." She managed to whimper out, the half eaten croissant falling out of her grasp as she held out her hands in defense.
"Aw, nuh. We ain't gonna hurt you. Are we, boys?" One of them called out, eliciting chuckles from others.
"Naw, she's too pretty for that. Say, how about we play a game of catch?"
Before she could reply, her bag was ripped from her and thrown to one of them before being passed to another. She begged and pleaded with them to let her go, but all she got was laughter filled with sick glee.
"Here you go, doll!"
The bag fell to the ground with a clatter and she crouches, about to pick it up when she is suddenly dragged by the arm, an appendage wrapped around her waist as her body is forced to make contact with one of the gang members.
His hair is a disgusting shade of green with the tattoo of a green viper wrapped around his neck. Evie held in the urge to dry gag as the scent of cigarette and bad breath wafted through her nostrils.
"Let me go." She demanded, struggling to reign in her fear.