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Louis’ figure slid between the crowd of bodies. San Francisco’s streets were always busy at this hour of the night, and for Armand it was the perfect cover. Not that Louis would have cared. He was becoming careless. Armand had killed his last three lovers minutes after he met them. If he hadn’t noticed it yet, he was either stupid or uncaring, and Armand knew Louis was not stupid. His affairs were also becoming more frequent. The moment one lover was buried, he was already in another’s bed. Armand didn’t mind. He played the long game. He was patient. Louis would give in first. People usually got tired before Armand had even started. Louis wasn’t tired yet. At least not enough to stop the games. He was meeting another lover tonight, and Armand would be there to kill him after they said their goodbyes.
Louis walked into a building, a coffee shop, according to the sign that hung from the building. Armand barely had to quicken his pace. He was looking through the window before Louis could sit down. The coffee shop was warmly lit; a few wooden tables sat next to the window, but they were empty. Actually, most of the establishment was empty. Except for a couple of women sitting on the far side of the room, the only people there were Louis and a young curly-haired boy who was smiling at him. The boy wore a uniform, a bright orange monstrosity with his name on the lapel. Daniel. However, his occupation meant nothing. This sweet-faced boy could be Louis’ future lover. Armand could see the love in that smile. Maybe Daniel already was Louis’ lover. Daniel led Louis away from the door. Somewhere Armand couldn’t see. Armand frowned. If he actually went into the building, Louis would spot him before Armand could kill his lover. However, if he didn’t go in, he would never find such a lover to kill him. After some deliberation, Armand stepped inside the coffee shop. Warm air filled the room—an oasis from the cold night outside— and the jukebox played something slow, but popular enough that Armand had heard it while searching for prey. Armand scoured the whole room, unable to see Louis. However, he spotted Daniel without much trouble. It was difficult not to, as he came over to greet him with that same big dumb smile.
“Hello, sir, how can I help you?” asked Daniel, but Armand didn’t answer him.
It seemed that, aside from Daniel and the two women, one of whom had mysteriously started to cry, he was the only one in the coffee shop. Maybe Louis met his lover in the bathroom. Maybe his lover would come if Armand waited long enough, or if he was already there, Armand only had to wait until they finished. He could do that. Using his vampire skills, he scoured the menu for the least infuriating drink. It barely mattered; he wasn’t going to drink it either way.
“A latte,” Armand said, as that was at least hot. It would look strange to order coffee with ice when it was almost snowing outside.
“Coming right up,” said Daniel, and he left with a pep in his step that Armand found inappropriate. No one could enjoy working this much.
Armand sat down somewhere with a perfect view of the bathroom door. However, to avoid attracting attention, he took out a book. He usually did that, so he would have something to stare at instead of Louis and his lover. Still, he remained vigilant, never actually reading a word. Louis’ lover hadn’t appeared yet when the server came with Armand’s drink. So he must already be inside. Daniel left the drink on the table, so at least now Armand knew he wasn’t the lover. Armand debated whether he should barge in and kill the lover in front of Louis. Maybe it would finish the game. Armand was patient, but it was starting to bother him. He went to glance at the server to thank him, but Daniel was gone, and instead Armand’s gaze fell to his drink. There was something on his cup. It was not the uniform brown one would expect from a coffee. On top of his drink, using the milk, someone had drawn a smiling cat. Armand stared, trying to understand its purpose. It was a useless medium. If you drank the cup and enjoyed the coffee as it was created to do so, the art would disappear. If you didn’t drink it and collected it, it would rot away and mould. Furthermore, why a cat? How were cats related to coffee in any way? It was a useless piece of art, useless and meaningless. And yet…
Armand stormed over to the counter where the boy was already preparing another drink. This one had a heart drawn on top of it, which only made Armand frown harder. The boy gave it to one of the women—the one who wasn't crying—and she left with the cup back to the other one. When she was gone, Armand set the cup on the counter, and the boy finally looked up.
“Oh, is there a problem with your drink?” Daniel asked, smiling again.
“You drew a cat in it; why?”
“You mean why there is a drawing, or why a cat?” The boy was joking. Armand wasn’t in a joking mood. He debated whether he could just fish the answers he wanted out of the boy’s head. Although it would be difficult. The boy was almost screaming in his mind. A never-ending string of “Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, you need this job to pay for the journalism degree, don’t fuck it up” had filled Armand’s brain the second he came into the café, and he doubted it came from the woman crying over her ex or her sister. He didn’t want to start digging there while he was bombarded by useless information and sob stories. He just wanted to know why.
“Both.”
“Well, I started to draw in drinks because I got bored. This coffee shop is my only way to pay for my degree…” and drugs to make working here actually bearable, but I can’t tell a customer I am on so much cocaine at the moment. Supplied Daniel’s loud mind. “But making the same drink all day is boring as fuck. So, I draw things in customers’ drinks.”
“Isn’t it a waste of time?”
“I don’t know, man; most customers love it. The owner also doubted me, but sales have doubled since I started. People love their personalised latte art.”
“Personalised?” asked Armand. The boy in front of him flinched, and it amused Armand. He contained a smile and continued trying to keep his tone as cold as he could. “If they are personalised, why do I have a cat? I don’t have a cat.”
Armand was expecting the boy to flinch again, or at least to be a little afraid; instead, the boy blushed, and his heart skipped a beat. That was an interesting reaction.
“Well, your eyes…” They are gorgeous. “They…” make you look like a bug, but in a hot way. “reminded me of cat eyes.” However, I don’t think anyone would appreciate a mantis in their coffee, so I had to settle for cats because cats are cute, and you are cuter and…
Armand blocked Daniel’s mind. So this boy had wanted to capture his appearance. It wasn’t the first time. It was not unlike Louis with his photos or Marius with his paintings. Daniel wanted to capture Armand in coffee, but why? What was the purpose of an art so ephemeral?
“It is useless,” said Armand. “It is fleeting. You cannot drink it without destroying it, and if you don’t drink it, it will rot and be destroyed nonetheless. It cannot preserve what it captures for eternity to be enjoyed by future generations.”
“Well, it is not meant to be preserved. It is personal. It is meant to be enjoyed by the customer alone and then be destroyed. You know, live-in-the-moment kind of way.”
Live in the moment. Enjoyed by the customer alone. Armand was the customer, and he didn’t know if he enjoyed it. Armand looked at the drawing of the cat again. It was certainly different from the art he was used to. It was simple, only two colours, barely a few lines. It had a round face and even rounder eyes. The mouth was small and double-u shaped. Armand could see it wasn’t anything like Marius’ anatomically perfect paintings, but it also wasn’t trying to be. There was a charm to the simplicity. To the ephemeral nature of it. Armand had been once again immortalised, but this time he wasn’t captured. This drawing wasn’t him frozen in time. It would evolve. Whether he drank it or it rotted, it would be affected by the passage of time, unlike him. It would live its latte art life to its fullest. Live-in-the-moment kind of way. Armand smiled.
“Ehm, if you are not happy with it, I can remake you one without art. If that is what you wan…”
“No!” screamed Armand, and the boy flinched again. Armand smiled. It was still amusing. “Can you make me another one?”
“Yes, I just said that I…”
“No, no, I mean another drawing.”
“Sure, if you order another coffee. What do you want?”
“Can you draw a praying mantis?” Armand smiled.
“Guess I won’t know until I try.”
If you stay here and act as my model, it may even come out decent. Supplied Daniel’s incredibly loud mind. Armand wouldn’t mind staying. Who knew when Louis was coming out or whether there was another way out of the building. Louis would still be the same tomorrow and next year and next decade. He wanted to watch this fleeting art before it rotted away, and Daniel would be the one to show him, the one to guide him as he learned to enjoy this ephemeral beauty.