"I Evelyn," I start, my voice quieter now, "do you believe there are good and bad people in the world?"
She doesn't hesitate. "Most definitely. Why?"
I pause, letting her answer hang in the air before responding. "Do you think it's fate that some people are good and some aren't?"
Her brow furrows slightly, as though I've caught her off guard. "Yeah? Why though?
"All I'm saying," I continue, ignoring her question, "is that it seems like fate isn't inherently a good thing. If fate exists, it's like it's handpicking who gets to be good and who doesn't. Like it's deciding who suffers and who gets a free pass."
She leans back against the wall, crossing her arms. "Interesting theory," she says, her tone skeptical but curious. "So what's your point?"
"To me," I say slowly, piecing my thoughts together, "it's either fate exists, and some unfair being is pulling the strings, or—"
"Or what?" she asks, her voice faltering slightly.
"Or," I say, meeting her eyes, "it simply doesn't exist. Everything's random. People just are—good, bad, or in between—because of choices they make or the circumstances they're thrown into. Nothing more, nothing less."
Evelyn narrows her eyes, considering my words. "So, you think randomness is fairer than fate? That chaos is somehow better than order, even if it means nothing has a purpose?"
"Better or worse doesn't matter," I reply. "It's not about fairness. It's about reality. If fate exists, it's a cruel joke. And if it doesn't… at least we're free."
She studies me for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she leans forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees. "But are we really free? If everything's random, aren't we just reacting to whatever life throws at us? No control, no plan. Just… surviving."
I hesitate. "We can't control everything, sure. But we can still decide who we are. What we do with the cards we're dealt."
Her smirk returns, but it's softer this time, almost wistful. "Maybe. Or maybe you're giving humans too much credit."
I frown, unsure whether she's mocking me or agreeing. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," she says, tilting her head, "most people aren't making choices as much as they think they are. They're acting on instinct, habits, trauma—stuff they barely even understand about themselves. You think that's freedom?"
"So what's your alternative?" I counter, my frustration rising. "You think fate gives people more freedom? How does following some invisible script make life better?"
Evelyn doesn't answer right away. She leans back against the wall, her gaze distant. "Maybe it's not about better or worse. Maybe it's about accepting that some things are out of our hands. That there's a reason for the chaos, even if we can't see it."
Her words make my chest tighten, though I'm not sure why. I shake my head, forcing a laugh. "You're really committed to this whole fate thing, huh?"
"Not committed," she says, her tone quiet but firm. "Just… open to the possibility."
I stare at her, unsure whether to argue or let it go. There's something in her voice, something almost vulnerable, that makes me hesitate. For the first time, I wonder if her belief in fate isn't just philosophical—but personal.
"Why do you care so much about this?" I ask, the question slipping out before I can stop it.
Evelyn's eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see something flicker there—hesitation, maybe even pain. Then she shrugs, her smirk returning like a mask. "I don't. You're the one who brought it up, remember?"
I don't believe her, but I don't push. Instead, I lean back on my bed, staring at the ceiling as my thoughts churn. The room falls into silence again, but her words linger, pulling at threads I didn't even know were there.
For someone I just met, Evelyn feels unnervingly familiar, like she's walked through the same shadows I have. Or maybe I'm imagining it. Either way, I can't shake the feeling that this conversation isn't over—not by a long shot.
The next morning, the sunlight filters in through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. I wake up groggily, feeling the weight of yesterday's conversation still hanging in the air. Evelyn's words about fate, randomness, and the bigger picture keep replaying in my mind, but I push them aside for now. It's a new day. A free one, before the grind of class begins.
I stretch lazily, my muscles stiff from sleeping in an awkward position. The room is still, except for the soft sound of Evelyn's movements across the room. I roll over to check the time—still early. Maybe I can get a few more minutes of sleep before we have to deal with whatever today throws at us.
But before I can close my eyes again, I hear a knock at the door.
"Hey, Shin!" Evelyn calls from across the room. "Can you get that? I'll be ready in a minute."
I groan inwardly. It's too early for guests, but I drag myself out of bed, trying to shake off the sleepiness. I shuffle over to the door and pull it open without thinking much of it.
Standing in the doorway is a girl with bright red hair, a sharp look in her eyes, and a confident posture. She's wearing a casual but trendy outfit—far more put-together than I feel right now—and her eyes narrow as they land on me.
"You must be Shin," she says, her voice dripping with disinterest, almost like it's a fact she has to get out of the way before she can get to something more important.
"Yeah," I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "And you are…?"
"I'm Mia," she replies, not bothering to extend a hand. Her gaze sweeps past me into the room, clearly unimpressed by the sight of the disorganized dorm. "So, this is where you live, huh?"
I can already tell this isn't going to be a pleasant conversation. "Yeah, it is. What's up?"
Mia glances over at Evelyn, who's slowly getting dressed on her bed. She gives a half-hearted wave, but it's clear that Mia doesn't seem interested in engaging much with me. She looks back at me, her expression unchanged. "I was just checking in on Evelyn. You know, making sure she's not getting into any trouble with you."
I blink in surprise, unsure whether I'm reading too much into her words or if she's genuinely trying to make some sort of insinuation. "What do you mean by that?"
She tilts her head, an eyebrow arched slightly. "Well, I'm sure you are fine," she says, the words coming out like a veiled insult. "But I know how guys like you can be. You know, overbearing or—"
"Okay, that's enough," Evelyn interrupts, finally walking over to the door and cutting off whatever Mia was about to say. Her tone is sharp, and she's not looking at Mia, instead focusing her attention on me. "Mia, relax. He's not the enemy.
Mia doesn't seem deterred. In fact, she smirks as if this is all some sort of game. "I'm just saying. Keep an eye out, Evelyn. You never know what kind of guy you're living with.
I can feel my pulse quicken, and I struggle to keep my cool. The way Mia's speaking to me—it feels like she's sizing me up, trying to figure me out, or maybe testing my limits. I'm not sure which one is worse.
Evelyn doesn't respond right away. She simply crosses her arms, her eyes fixed on Mia for a long beat before she turns to me with a somewhat apologetic expression. "Ignore her. Mia's got issues with pretty much anyone who isn't her, but it's not personal. She's just… a little protective, I guess."
I don't know whether to laugh or be annoyed. Protective? It feels more like she's just being hostile for no reason.
"Right," I mutter, trying to hide my irritation. "No problem."
Mia eyes me for a moment longer, then glances at Evelyn, clearly still unimpressed with the situation. "Well, I'm off. Just wanted to check in. Don't let him cause too much trouble, okay?" She turns on her heel and walks away, her footsteps echoing in the hallway.
Evelyn closes the door behind her with a sigh. "Sorry about that. Mia's… protective, like I said. Don't mind her."
I try to suppress the tension I feel in my shoulders. "That wasn't exactly the warmest greeting," I remark, turning to face Evelyn, who's already sitting back down on her bed, her expression a mixture of amusement and slight exasperation.
"You have no idea. Mia doesn't trust anyone who's not in her little circle. But like I said, it's not personal. She'll warm up eventually—just don't expect it to happen quickly." Evelyn shrugs, clearly not as affected by Mia's attitude as I am.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Great. Another person to add to the list of people who don't like me."
Evelyn gives me a sideways glance. "You really don't let things slide, do you?"
"Why should I?" I shoot back, feeling my frustration bubbling again. "She basically walked in here and treated me like I was some kind of threat."
"She's just like that with everyone," Evelyn says with a small grin. "It's not about you, it's about her. She's got her own stuff going on."
I let out a breath and sit back down on my bed, still processing the awkwardness of the encounter. "Yeah, I guess. But it's still annoying."
Evelyn nods, understanding. "I get it. But hey, it's just one person. Don't let it bother you. We've got a free day today. Let's not waste it on this."
I glance at her, still a little ruffled by the whole interaction. But I figure she's right—there's no point in letting Mia ruin the day.
"Yeah," I say, my tone quieter now. "You're right.
Evelyn grins, standing up. "Exactly. Now, how about we grab some breakfast? You look like you could use a coffee."
"Coffee?"
"Yeah, whats- don't tell me you're one of those people who doesn't like coffee now?
"No, I've just never been offered anything like that before"
Evelyn's eyes widen in disbelief as she stares at me. "Wait, hold on—you've never been offered coffee before? What kind of world are you living in, Shin?"
I shrug, trying not to make too much of it. "I don't know. I guess I never really cared for it.
She raises an eyebrow, her lips curling into a bemused grin. "Well, now that you've been offered, you're going to try it. Trust me, you're missing out."
I raise my hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll give it a shot."
Evelyn shakes her head, still clearly astonished by my lack of coffee experience. "You're seriously depressing, you know that?" she says, the words playful but with an edge of truth. "How can someone your age never have had a cup of coffee? It's like you're living in some emo movie where everything is dark and moody and… I don't know, full of angst."
I snort at her comment. "I'm not that bad," I reply, though I can't help the dry tone that sneaks into my voice.
"No, you're not that bad," she agrees with a smirk. "But you've definitely got the emo vibe going. Do you even have a favorite color, or is it just black?
I roll my eyes, the playful jab catching me off guard. "It's not just black, alright? I have other colors, too. Like, I don't know—gray?
Evelyn bursts out laughing, holding her stomach as if I just cracked the funniest joke in the world. "Gray?! You're killing me, Shin. You're so emo it hurts."
I slightly frown, trying to look unaffected, but there's a faint smile tugging at the corner of my lips. "You done?"
"Not quite," she says, still grinning. "I bet you've got a secret playlist of sad music you listen to while you stare out the window in the rain."
"Okay, now you're doing too much." I mutter, but there's no real heat in my voice. It's hard to stay annoyed when Evelyn's teasing is so… easy to brush off.
"Maybe," she says with a wink. "But seriously, we're getting you a coffee today. You can't live the rest of your life like this."
I give in with a sigh, but a small part of me appreciates the way she's trying to break through whatever wall I've put up. "Fine, fine. But don't say I didn't warn you if I become even more of a depressing mess after I drink it."
She grins, clearly enjoying herself. "I'm just here for the ride, Shin. Whatever happens next, you're not doing it alone."
I nod, feeling a strange sense of comfort in her words, even if I don't fully understand why. "Yeah, alright. Let's get this coffee thing over with."
Evelyn chuckles, grabbing her jacket from the chair. "Trust me, you're going to love it."
As she heads out the door, I follow her, still shaking my head at the absurdity of the situation. But for once, it feels like things are a little lighter. Maybe the coffee isn't such a bad idea after all.
As we step out of the dorm, the cool morning air greets us. The campus is still quiet, with only a few other students milling around, already on their way to early classes. Evelyn leads the way, her steps confident and purposeful, while I follow, trying not to let my thoughts drift too much.
"Alright," she says, glancing back at me. "I know just the place. It's a little hole-in-the-wall café, but the coffee there is insane. You'll love it."
I raise an eyebrow. "You've got a lot of faith in my taste buds, don't you?"
"Hey, don't knock it until you try it," she replies, smirking. "Trust me, I've never had anyone hate it."
We walk in silence for a moment, but the quiet is comfortable—there's no pressure, just the steady rhythm of our footsteps. After a couple of minutes, we arrive at a small café tucked between two larger buildings. It's unassuming, with a faded sign hanging above the door, but the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts out, instantly making me realize just how much I've been missing.
Evelyn pushes the door open, and the warmth of the place wraps around us. The interior is cozy, with mismatched tables and chairs, the kind of place where you could lose hours just sitting and talking. The barista behind the counter, a tall guy with a messy bun, gives us a quick nod as we approach.
"Morning, Evelyn," he greets her, his voice casual and friendly. "What can I get you today?"
"Same as usual," she says, glancing over at me. "And for my friend here…" She looks at me like she's about to make a life-altering decision. "What's your deal with coffee, Shin?"
I shrug, feeling a little out of my element. "I don't really know what I like, I guess. Just… whatever you recommend."
Evelyn smirks at me, obviously enjoying the way I'm fumbling through the process. "This is gonna be fun," she says under her breath, loud enough for me to hear.
The barista grins. "Alright, one standard dark roast for you, Evelyn, and for you, Shin…" He looks me over with an almost amused expression. "How about a caramel macchiato? Something sweet to ease you into the whole coffee thing."
I wrinkle my nose slightly. "Caramel? That's not exactly what I had in mind, but I guess I'll give it a shot.
Evelyn raises an eyebrow, her voice laced with sarcasm. "The great Shin, turned off by a little sugar. You're seriously something else."
I roll my eyes. "It's not that. I just never really cared for all the fancy stuff."
"Well, get ready for your first real taste of coffee culture," she says, her grin widening as she hands the barista a few bills. "We're going all out."
We wait by the counter for a few minutes while the drinks are prepared. The café is cozy, and I start to feel a bit more relaxed as I take in the atmosphere—maybe this place won't be so bad after all.
Finally, the barista hands us our drinks. Evelyn grabs hers without hesitation, but I eye mine warily. The caramel macchiato looks sweeter than I expected, with a thick layer of foam and a drizzle of caramel on top. Not exactly what I'd envisioned when I thought of coffee, but at this point, I'm committed.
I take a cautious sip, and the sweetness hits me first. It's… not terrible, I guess. It's smoother than I thought, and the caramel adds an unexpected warmth. I lower the cup from my lips, surprised at how much I don't mind it.
Evelyn watches me closely, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Well?"
I shrug, trying to play it cool. "It's not awful."
Her grin widens. "Not awful? You sound like a coffee enthusiast already."
I give a slightly annoyed face at her before I take another sip, savoring the warmth this time. "Okay, fine. It's actually pretty good."
Evelyn laughs, clearly pleased with herself. "I knew you'd come around. Told you, coffee is life."
We find a small table by the window and sit down, the conversation drifting from topic to topic as we sip our drinks. I'm still processing everything—Mia, the awkwardness of yesterday, and how things are shifting between me and Evelyn. It's strange, but in a good way. For once, things don't feel so heavy.
Evelyn seems to notice my quietness after a while. She leans back in her chair, studying me for a moment. "So," she says casually, "I don't know if I should ask this, but… what's going on with you? You always seem like you're thinking about something way more important than just coffee."
I hesitate, taking another sip of my drink to avoid her gaze. "I'm just… trying to figure stuff out, I guess."
She leans forward, her tone softening slightly. "Figuring stuff out about what?"
I glance at her, feeling a little exposed. "About everything. About myself. Why I'm here. Why I keep feeling like I'm not enough, even when I try."
Evelyn doesn't say anything at first. She just looks at me, as if weighing her words. "Look, I get it," she finally says, her voice quieter now. "But you're not alone in that. Trust me, we all feel like that sometimes."
I'm not sure why, but something in her words makes me pause. Unbeknownst to her, I can't be like everyone else, I have to be different. However, how I'm going about things right now, I think I'm too different.
For the first time since I've met her, I feel like I'm starting to get a glimpse of what's behind the confident front Evelyn puts up. It's not just about the teasing or the banter—it's about something deeper, something that, for whatever reason, makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I'm not as much of a lost cause as I thought.
I take another sip of my coffee, and for once, it feels like maybe things are finally starting to make sense.