Two doors opened at the same time. Two young adults exited two different coffee shops, side by side—a Starbucks and a local café.
A vibrant young woman stepped out of the local café, a faint smile on her lips, holding a plastic cup of iced matcha latte. At the same time, a gloomy young man with messy hair exited the Starbucks, just off his shift, holding a steaming paper cup of Americano—a free drink offered to staff.
Both cafés served the same purpose: fueling customers with either caffeine or sugar. And when two similar stores sat right next to each other, competition was inevitable. If they had operated in different niches, there wouldn't have been as much quiet resentment between the crews.
The woman and the man walked off in opposite directions, never once catching sight of the other. Had even a fragment of silhouette been noticed, they might've reunited right then and there—perhaps shared a coffee at the Starbucks and caught up. But that moment never came.
The vibrant woman sipped her matcha with a contented smile, upbeat rhythms echoing through her headphones. The gloomy man, on the other hand, scowled after a single taste. He had added too much sugar.
—
"See? Nothing happened to me," the young woman said as she climbed into the passenger seat.
"Well, you're lucky," her father replied from the driver's side.
She gave him a wry smirk as she removed her headphones. "I mean, I'm seventeen, Dad. I can walk down the street alone for a drink. Nothing's gonna happen."
"I know you can, Sam. I was just hoping you'd buy me a drink since I drove you here."
"Oh... sorry."
"I'm just joking."
"You can have half—after I finish the first half," Samantha offered with a grin, shaking the cup.
"How generous. But I'll pass on the backwash, Sam."
"Alright then. Alllll mine," she declared, taking a long sip as her father drove them home.
—
Across the street, the gloomy young man kept walking, head low, until he reached the fourth floor of his dorm building. He was a college freshman.
"You tryhard. Already got a part-time job," his roommate joked without looking up as he entered.
The guy ignored the remark, dropped his bag on the bed, and went straight to his desk.
"Yo, no greeting?" his roommate turned around. "Since we're living together, maybe we should get to know each other?"
All he got was a passing glare.
"Liammm," his roommate tried again.
"What?"
"Caitlyn asked if you're free this Sunday. Maybe catch a movie?"
"Not interested," Liam replied flatly, flipping open his laptop.
"What do you mean, 'not interested'? She's hot, bro."
"I've got work."
"Then why are you gaming now?"
Liam booted up his favorite shooter. His roommate rolled his eyes. Liam was tall, good-looking, on scholarship—and completely detached. He didn't act his age.
"I don't get you, man. You should at least be texting her right now... tsk."
With that, the roommate gave up and flopped onto his bed.
**Knockknockknock**
"I guess I'll get that," he muttered, seeing as Liam was fully absorbed in his game.
"Yo Tyler! Party at Sue's tonight. You coming?" said an excited voice from the hallway.
"Mike! You bet. Wouldn't miss it."
"Your roommate wanna come?"
Tyler looked back at Liam, who was glued to his screen.
"You think?" he answered sarcastically.
"Haha! Fair enough. See you tonight!"
"Tonight? Dude, it's already half past five—let's just head straight over."
"Ayy, that's what I like to—"
Liam didn't hear the end of that sentence. The door closed, not that he was listening anyway.
—
"I'm homeeeee!" Samantha called as she stepped into her suburban house with her father.
"You were gone twenty minutes," her mom replied from the kitchen, preparing dinner.
"Hehe, I know. Mom, what's for dinner?"
"It's only 5:30. Why are you always hungry?"
"PE class was exhausting today, Moooom."
"And you ate two bowls of pasta this afternoon," her dad added, patting her head.
"That settles it. We're jogging tomorrow. Dinner's meatloaf, by the way."
"Ahhh, alright."
Samantha plopped into her seat at the dinner table, waiting impatiently for the food.
She stared out the window at the orange sky, glowing with the last light of the setting sun.
So did he—Liam—gazing out from his dorm window.
They both thought the same thing:
"Does she/he still remember me?"
...
...
"Yeah, no way", Liam concluded.
"Why am I even thinking about this?" Samantha wondered. "Mom! I'm hungryyyyy!"
"It's not even dark out, Sam."
"Ah, I lost," Liam muttered to himself. He'd been distracted by his thoughts and tanked his ranked match. His online teammates were now berating him in chat. "What a bother…"
"Still thinking about him after all this time, huh?" Samantha sighed to herself.
He/She wouldn't remember me. And honestly… it's probably my fault.