Chapter Text
A dark, lingering haze covered the streets, the only hope for light being the flickering street lights above. Shadows were met with ones of their own, stretching out and pooling on the pavement. An image ever so peaceful, if it hadn’t been disturbed by the rain. Masses of water overtook each empty space, smoke-grey clouds whirling in the sky. They rushed, racing to hit the ground, locking out any promise of silence.
The day brought sorrow, and while most individuals knew that the middle of the city was not the best place to be during the downpour, there were exceptions.
Grian frowned as rain trickled down into his sleeve. Water was everywhere. In his shoes - once a pair of shimmering, elegant black Oxfords, now soaked in the product of the sky’s flood. A shiver ran down his back, the cold snapping its jaws at the lone man. He could swear the water began to fill his mind as well, wet slop replacing his already tired, useless brain.
It was meant to be a good day. He had intended to start the morning like he normally would, but an unlucky mishap had delayed his plans. Just like always, he would grumble. Before he had even reached the office building, whatever was above had decided to play a cruel joke on him. Not even something worth remembering. Then he had been late to the second job interview he was meant to have that day - and had spilled his future interviewer’s coffee. So much for first impressions.
To top it all off, the second he had exited the building, already disappointed and dreading the long way back home, it had begun to rain. And there he was - no ride in sight, phone forgotten at home, bearing an umbrella he had borrowed from some middle-aged lady kind enough to give it to him out of pity.
Drip, drip, drip, clicked the rain against the red surface of his umbrella like an awful cacophony. The biggest rainfall the area would see - he recalled the morning announcements in the train he had taken. Curse him for not paying attention back then. Maybe he would have planned better. With autumn having arrived in full swing, it was no surprise, but to Grian it felt like a cherry on top to a cake made out of lead. A sour bite into poison.
His shoulders throbbed, the weight of exhaustion lay on him, it had made itself comfortable. The duet of a storm and the gale roared inside his ears, and only the thought of a warm cup of tea drove him forward. Maybe a different, stronger beverage, even - he mused. He deserved it after the torture he had gone through.
Stuck inside of his thoughts with the outside world having nothing pleasant to offer, Grian didn’t even notice how his grip grew looser. His attention fixed on the object slipping out of his hand as he desperately grabbed forward, but it was futile.
“No, no, no! Oh- for goodness sake!” Rage settled within him as he kicked the puddle in front, the same water that now soaked him flicking out into the air.
Now that he had no protection, the rain began to cover him entirely. Grian winced as his clothes felt heavy, the weight enough for him to collapse and give up if he were weak enough. He buried his face in his hands, wet glass roughly clashing against the touch of his palms.
He cried out into the skies, desperate, done for. Put out like the dying flame of the streetlights. There was no hope. He would be stuck in an endless cycle of chasing after the slightest sliver of any sort of promising future, sharing the fate of Sisyphus, except now crushed under the boulder.
So Grian screamed again, with all the air and strength in his lungs, the streets fully empty. If anybody saw him, he’d be considered a madman. And maybe that was what he was. His throat burned like hot metal, stung like barbed wire. He gasped for air, choking on his own emotion. He couldn’t see or hear anything past it.
Suddenly, a voice.
Grian nearly missed it. Slowly, he looked over to the direction of the sound. He squinted his eyes, unable to see past the raindrops stuck to the lenses of his glasses. The only thing Grian could make out was a shape - a bright, golden sphere in front of him, and what he presumed was a person.
“Yeah, you! In- in the red scarf!” The voice was shaken with a slight uncertainty, “You want to come inside? It’s raining cats and dogs out here!”
What an observation, Grian thought to himself, wiping some of the water off his glasses so he could see.
In a baby blue doorframe stood a man - strong, definitely stronger than Grian, yet somehow charming . The soft lighting from inside painted him almost ethereal.
“Just until I can get you a cab, of course.” He chuckled. “Come on!”
Grian was far too tired to consider being kidnapped or assassinated. Who would want to kill him? - he thought, stepping onto the tiles inside.
He could still barely see anything, drenched in water top to bottom. The rain dripped down into the checkered floor as he walked further. Almost on instinct, the man pulled out a chair and gestured for him to sit down. It all felt like a blur. Grian didn’t know how much time passed as the man vanished into the back of the room and then returned with a towel in his hands, giving it to Grian so he could dry off.
The fabric felt heavy in his hands, he wasn’t sure what to do for a second. Grian buttoned down his coat and unwrapped his scarf, setting them down on the chair next to him. He then began to rid himself of the water that soaked his hair and the other exposed parts of him.
Only now could he properly see the inside. It felt… strange, to say the least. By the way the tables were organised, and the counter in the middle sitting right by a glass display, he figured he was meant to be in a café. Though the atmosphere shook him like a cold wind, with the walls barren, and no life in sight, and it can’t just have been closing time.
Grian spotted boxes thrown behind the counter where the man had gone to wipe some glasses. It was obvious he noticed his prying gaze, kicking the box out of sight, an embarrassed look on his face as he turned away and cleaned the object in his hand even more hastily.
“What… is-” He began, before he got interrupted.
“Can I offer you a drink?” The stranger cut in, shoving the glass away, “There are still some machines up and running, I think. Tea?”
Grian’s lips parted for him to speak, but no response seemed to come out. He raised a brow, observing the man with caution. He wasn’t expecting that sort of offer.
“Tea’s fine, thanks.”
“Gotcha!” He gave a thumbs-up, ducking behind the counter.
He listened in as the man fumbled around the cupboards, searching for something. Finally, the pop of boiling water could be heard as he rose back up with a mug in his hand.
“So… why were you out so late in the rain?” The man leaned forwards, a curious look in his eyes.
Grian shifted in his seat, the chair scratching against the floor, “Bad luck.”
“Oh?”
Normally, Grian wasn’t the one to pour his heart out to a random guy, especially when he wasn’t thinking clearly. And especially this guy seemed a bit too chipper for his liking. But for some strange reason, the words felt like they were being pulled out of his mouth, flowing and falling like the rain outside, “I got rejected from a job. Twice. And then it started raining, and I have no way to get back home.”
“That’s horrible!” He gasped, just as the kettle announced its presence with a click.
“Yeah.” Grian grinned bitterly. “Wonderful day, eh?”
“Uh-huh. But hey, there’s always tomorrow.” The stranger sat in the chair in front of him, setting down the steaming mug.
Grian watched as the steam coiled in front of him, slowly mixing in with the air confined inside of the room. He took a sip, letting the sharp taste soothe his still aching throat.
“Not really.” He sighed. However horrible it felt, he had to accept it. There was no tomorrow for a man like him. His dreams had long been sent straight into the rubbish, and he had to-
“Listen. Life’s not all sunshine and rainbows, especially not for you. You need to brace yourself for long decades of plain misery- you hear me? Nothing will be like your little wonderland.”
After a couple of years of drifting across empty waters, he never reached Atlantis.
“Why can’t it be? You’re still young. Even if life screws you over, you have the time to pick yourself up. Start over.” The man smiled. Grian couldn’t take it.
He scoffed, “Yeah, right. Sir, you don’t know me. You don’t know what I’ve been through. Listen, I’m thankful for this and your… strange café, but I’m not up for a chat. Not after today.” He took another sip of his tea.
“Hm.” He trailed off to look back onto the streets.
Grian wove his hands around the warm mug, letting the steam float upwards and climb closer to him.
He fully expected the man to just stand up and go about his business, maybe shoo him away. But he didn’t. He kept sitting in that chair, waiting for his answer. The silence grew thick, and Grian was starting to feel ticked off.
“What if I said I knew what you’re feeling?”
Grian looked up, their glances interlocking. The stranger rested his chin on his hands, close enough for Grian to not only grow mildly uncomfortable, but he could see the shade of green in his eyes. Almost like a tunnel in the forest inviting him in, and once again something tugged in his chest. Grian leaned backwards, trying to increase their distance.
“Elaborate.”
The man flapped his hand to fan himself, clearly taken slightly aback, “Whoa! Uh, where do I even start? Oh, right. Well, you probably figured this whole… The café thing was weird. Random boxes everywhere, no paintings on the walls, an empty counter… My business fell apart. This week, I’m packing all of this away.”
His pained tone felt like a stab to Grian’s stomach. Scarily familiar, even. “Oh.”
“Yeah. I loved baking when I was a kid, and I decided to make it my career. Nobody believed in me, let’s be honest. But I kept going.”
He drew in a breath, and Grian could swear he saw a tear form in his eye. “Even if it did fail, I don’t think my life’s over, you know? Just like yours isn’t. Not yet. There are still opportunities, and new people to meet. You never know what tomorrow brings you.”
The room fell quiet. He stared at the inside of the mug - his own reflection looking back from the half-drunk tea. The man did have a point. It’s just- Grian was tired of the chase for something new. He missed the days when he was optimistic, just like this stranger before him.
Grian couldn’t tell how much time had passed as he was talking with him. By talking, he meant listening to the guy’s monologues and adding something every once in a while. It felt somehow comforting, to be able to just sit in his company. But something kept stirring in his stomach. You never know what tomorrow brings you.
Was there a ‘tomorrow’ for a man like him? Multiple times he felt like his life had fallen apart. Even that day, when he was furiously kicking puddles and screaming into the night. What made the stranger talking to him want to invite him to come in? Was it the hope that something would change? Did he think he could give Grian a ‘tomorrow’?
He tapped his fingers along the porcelain. “What if it’s too late for me?”
“It’s never too late. Trust me, sir.” The stranger gave him a reassuring smile. Grian could not return it.
The man took a glance at his watch. His eyes widened in surprise.
“Speaking of late, I think we should both get going.”
Grian was snapped from his trance, “Oh- yeah, of course.” He chugged the remainder of his tea and set the mug down. “Thanks for everything.”
The two men began to prepare for their departure. Grian fixed his scarf and buttoned up his coat. They were still damp, Grian found that out a bit too abruptly, but it was better than before. He waited for the other to return from the back room, and was delighted to see him back quickly. It only meant he would wait a short while to get back home.
Once they were outside, the man extended his arm towards Grian - holding an umbrella to shield them both. Surprised, and maybe slightly flustered, he nestled close to him, so the umbrella could actually keep them safe. It almost made him forget he was still missing one part of his plan to be back at his apartment.
Finally, Grian and the stranger reached a parking lot, where only one car remained. The stranger pulled out his keys and with a click, the vehicle opened. Which meant they would part ways soon.
“I forgot to mention, and again, I apologise for the nuisance,” Grian began, “But I can’t really call a cab right now, and the station is pretty far. Could you do that for me, please? I promise, I’ll pay you back for everything somehow.”
“What are you talking about?” The man raised a brow, “Come on in, there’s space in the Swaggon!”
“The Sw-” Grian wanted to ask questions, but there were more important ones, “I don’t have a means of transport to get me home, how else do I get back if not by a cab?”
The man rubbed at the nape of his neck, looking away so as to avoid Grian’s gaze, “Truth be told… I was planning to drive you. Who knows what evils lurk in the city at this hour?” He opened the car door, albeit not much, so as not to let the rain in.
Grian was dumbfounded. This man invited him into the remains of his cafe, made him tea, and is now trying to drive him home. What is this, a date? How touching, even if it reeked of some kind of attempt to kidnap him. Oh well. If he wanted to kidnap him, he would have done so already. And Grian was too tired to care.
So he got in the car, right beside the driver. Immediately, he could see the tiny pendant hanging from the mirror, presenting a white and grey cat, curled up in a ball. He chuckled to himself - what a weird man he just met.
“So, what’s the address? Sorry- this sounds really stalkerish.”
“Drop me off at Fish Market Square, I’ll find my way home from there.” He replied, leaning into the soft car seat.
The car ride would be long, he presumed. The darkness outside felt almost hypnotising, much more comfortable when he was safe from the water, seeing his worst enemy of the past two hours wiped away like it was nothing brought him immense pleasure. Somewhere along the way, the man turned the radio on, some jazzy hits replacing their silence.
Grian enjoyed it. He couldn’t believe just a short while before he felt like he was at the bottom of the pit - and sure, maybe he still was. He had no job, and he’d have to borrow money from friends again. It felt awful, but he had to make do. Only now, loneliness didn’t crush him as much. He looked over at the driver, who was clutching the steering wheel like his life depended on it.
Until finally, the man dared to speak up. “I know this sounds a bit strange, but I need to tell you something. I have a proposition for you.”
Grian’s interest was immediately piqued. Could this be about payback? He didn’t know, and he wouldn’t unless he listened.
“You see, I have a neighbour. And this neighbour - a lovely guy, by the way, even if he does seem a bit scary - he has a friend from college. Impulse Esvee, I think? Does that name ring a bell?”
“Nope!” Grian replied, popping the ‘p’. “Not at all.”
“Alright. Well, he’s a paranormal investigator. Up until now, he had been working with small cases - just your classic ‘mirror ghost’ and stuff. Recently, he’s moved to bigger cases. And those require a bigger team.”
Confusion filled his thoughts. Paranormal investigator? That did not seem real. “What does that mean?”
“We’re both jobless, and single- I think.” The man started, interrupted by Grian’s ‘wow, I’m offended’. “We could both use a little pick-me-up after everything, right? So how about we join the team?”
Since when was there a we?
“Wait, wait, wait.” Grian stopped him before he could say anything more, “You want me, a complete stranger who you met, what, two hours ago, to join a team of… what was it, ghost hunters? That’s not a real job, is it? And I really don’t have the time to prance around in the world of conspiracy theories with a tinfoil hat on my head.”
The car stopped. He could see the outline of the familiar market and the statue still standing proudly in the middle of the square. “I need to go. Thank you for everything.”
He started to dig around his pockets for his wallet. “Wait! What if you give it a try?”
“I told you, I don’t have the time.”
The man bit his lip, troubled. “Just once. Please.”
Grian produced a twenty-dollar bill, handing it out for him to take. But he refused.
“Meet me back here tomorrow, I’ll drive you to the office. If you decide the job isn’t real, I’ll leave you alone and we’ll never see each other again. If you like it enough to stay, then we’re no longer unemployed. Deal?”
With the way the man looked at him, with that warm stare and his hand offered to shake, Grian couldn’t help but agree. He sighed. “Deal. I’ve got nothing left to lose.”
One awkward handshake later, their deal was sealed.
“Yes!” The rush of joy made him jump up in his seat, forgetting he was inside of a car. Grian huffed a laugh as the man rubbed at his head, mumbling something to himself.
“I’m Grian, by the way.”
“Scar! Scar Thymes!” He called out.
“You’re a strange man, Scar.”
“Thank you! See you tomorrow!”
Soon after, he sped away, leaving Grian once more in the rain, although now he didn’t feel so alone. His flat was just a short walk away, but he could bear it.
Something told him he wouldn’t forget that crooked smile even if he tried.