Jay-Jay's POV
The late afternoon sun slanted through the café windows, painting the small tables in warm amber. I held my cup a little too tightly, tracing the rim with my fingers while pretending to scroll through my tablet. Coel and Samy were beside me, idly flipping through menus, but I wasn't really seeing anything. My mind had wandered… again.
"You look like you've just been handed a stock market crash on a silver platter," Coel remarked with a smirk, leaning back in his chair.
I laughed lightly, hiding the tug in my chest. "Not even close. Just… thinking."
Samy tilted her head, studying me. "Thinking about work?" she asked carefully, not wanting to press too hard.
I shook my head. "No… not work. Just… people, memories." My eyes drifted out the window, catching the light bouncing off the glass of passing cars. "Funny how some things you think you've left behind… they follow you anyway."
Coel raised an eyebrow. "Philosophical for a Monday afternoon," he said. "Care to elaborate, or is this one of those 'don't-ask' moments?"
I gave a small shrug. "Maybe a bit of both." I turned my attention to my wrist, my fingers brushing over the thin gold bracelet resting there. Simple, elegant, meaningful. A gift from someone who had shaped a part of me I hadn't thought about in years.
Ci-N's laugh echoed in my mind, bright and childish, carrying that mix of mischief and pride that only a fourteen-year-old could manage. He had been younger than most of us in the class, smaller in frame, but somehow always two steps ahead in everything else — a little genius in disguise. I remembered straightening his collar one morning, his flustered expression, the way he bounced on his toes because I had teased him about being too serious.
"You know," I murmured, almost to myself, "he was… special. In his own way."
Coel glanced at me. "Who?"
"Just someone from a long time ago," I said softly. "Someone who… taught me patience. Chaos. The importance of small moments. You wouldn't understand."
Samy smirked. "Try me. I might surprise you."
I shook my head, smiling faintly. "It's not exactly… something that translates easily. It's the kind of thing you can't really put into words."
There was a pause. The hum of the café felt louder somehow, punctuated by the soft jazz from the speakers overhead. I stirred my coffee absently, the spoon clinking lightly against the cup, grounding me.
"I guess… some people leave marks," I finally said, voice low, almost a whisper. "Not the kind everyone sees, but the ones that stay. The ones that linger in your chest, in the way you move, the way you think… even in moments you think you've moved past."
Coel leaned forward, his voice gentler now. "You're talking about someone important, huh?"
I hesitated, looking down at the bracelet again. It gleamed faintly in the sunlight, reminding me of that past I tried to keep neatly tucked away. "Yeah… someone very important."
My words hung in the air, vague, but heavy with meaning. Samy leaned back, sensing the depth of what I wasn't saying, and decided to let the conversation slide. Some things weren't ready to be spoken aloud.
I traced the bracelet with my thumb. The memory of that day… my eighteenth birthday… flickered like a candle in my mind. I remembered the quiet intensity of someone close to me, someone who had stayed by my side through small gestures, through laughter and teasing. He had made the day feel alive, though the world around us had seemed so ordinary.
I whispered under my breath, almost unconsciously, "You mattered… more than you ever knew."
Coel noticed the wistfulness in my expression. "Jay-Jay?"
I smiled faintly. "Nothing. Just… remembering." And I let myself take a deep breath, savoring the warmth of the sunlight on my skin, the simple joy of being here, even if my heart ached a little for what was gone.
Keifer's POV
Outside, the street buzzed with late-afternoon traffic. I didn't notice her yet, but across the glass, a shadow paused.
I stopped mid-step, adjusting my tie, and the world seemed to shrink around me. Through the café window, I saw her — head bent over her cup, a small smile playing on her lips, the faint glint of the gold bracelet catching the sunlight.
Recognition hit me in an instant, a soft, quick pulse in my chest. I remembered the gift, the day, the laughter. A quiet ache, not loud, not demanding — just enough to make me pause, enough to remind me that some things never faded, no matter the distance, no matter the years.
I lingered for a moment, letting the sight imprint itself in my memory. The warmth of the late sun, the subtle curve of her smile, the aura of someone familiar yet changed… it was a reminder of what had been lost, and what might still be found.
Then, almost reluctantly, I moved on, letting the moment hover in the golden light, unspoken, unsaid, but felt deeply by both of us.