Chapter 4

The group chat notification buzzes in my pocket, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.

FORTY, ANDY, STEVEN GROUP CHAT
FORTY: HEY STEVEN, YOU AT WORK? ANDY & I HAD A DAY OFF TODAY AND WERE WONDERING IF YOU’RE DOWN TO CHILL? LMK.

I stare at the message for a moment, then mutter under my breath, “Well, I guess I’m free now.”

STEVEN: SURE, YEAH, I’M FREE. WHERE DO YOU WANT TO MEET?
FORTY: ANDY’S DRIVING SO HE CAN’T REPLY, WE WERE THINKING OF HEADING TO TERRY’S. SOUND GOOD?
STEVEN: YEAH, I’LL MEET YOU THERE.

As I hit send, it happens again.

“Please stop doing this.”

The voice is soft yet unnerving, creeping into my ears like a whisper carried by the wind. My head snaps up from my phone, scanning the empty lot outside my former workplace. My chest tightens as irritation bubbles to the surface.

“WHO ARE YOU? SHOW YOURSELF!” My shout echoes across the lot, met with nothing but silence and a sharp gust of wind that nearly blows my hood off.

The emptiness around me is maddening. I clench my fists, my voice raw as I yell again, “SHUT UP!” But the voice is gone, leaving only the sound of my own frustration bouncing back at me. Defeated, I shake my head and start walking toward Terry’s Diner.

Terry’s is a neighborhood staple—open 24/7, a haven for night owls and early risers alike. The entrance is as weathered as the place itself, with cardboard patched over a shattered glass panel and a door handle layered in decades of uneven repainting. I push it open, the familiar scent of coffee and fried food greeting me.

Our usual booth is in the corner. Two glasses and an abandoned jacket sit on the table. They must be in the washroom. I slide into the booth, letting out a long breath.

“BOO!”

I nearly jump out of my skin as Forty leaps out from behind the booth.

“JEEZ, FORTY! What the hell?!” I snap, my nerves already frayed.

Forty grins like a mischievous kid, completely unbothered by my reaction. “Lighten up, Stevey! What’s got you all pissed off today?” His ignorance is almost impressive.

Forty is a social butterfly, always bouncing between people and places. At 5’11” with black spiked hair and a casual but stylish outfit—a well-fitted sweater and jeans—he’s the type who effortlessly draws attention.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. You just startled me.” I brush him off, not in the mood to unpack the disaster of my morning. I pick up the menu, using it as a barrier between us. “So, where’s Andy?”

“Bathroom,” Forty replies with a shrug. “He said we could order without him. Maybe he’s taking a—”

“Okay, I didn’t need to know that,” I cut him off, cringing.

Before Forty can respond, a familiar voice chimes in. “Are you boys ready to order?”

I look up and freeze. Agatha.

“Oh hey, Agatha!” Forty greets her enthusiastically, as if they’re old friends.

Agatha Pi is a girl from our neighborhood, someone I’ve had a quiet crush on for what feels like forever. She’s bubbly, bright, and always seems genuinely happy to see people. She’s got beautiful blonde hair, and she has a real natural beauty about her. I’ve convinced myself a hundred times she might feel the same way to me that I do to her, but today isn’t the day to think about that.

“Hey, Agatha,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady.

“OH! Forty! Steve! How are you guys?!” She pulls us both into a quick hug, her warmth momentarily breaking through the cloud in my head.

As she and Forty catch up, my thoughts drift back to this morning’s events. The voice, Mr. Tomas, the crushing realization of losing my job—it all loops endlessly in my mind. Coming here was a mistake. I should’ve just gone home.

“Hey, Steve.” Andy’s voice pulls me back to reality as he slides into the booth. Andy’s a simple, yet focused individual. Not the “dress-for-success” type of guy, but always in attire that’s low thinking effort. Simple jacket, simple t-shirt, simple jeans. He’s like 6’3” too so he’s got the confidence in height to boost too.

“Hey, Andy. How’s it going? No work today?” I ask, desperate to steer the conversation anywhere but my own issues.

“Took the day off,” he says with a grin. “Got a promotion this week, so I figured I’d treat myself.”

I force a smile. “Oh, congrats. That’s great.” I mean it, but there’s a bitterness simmering beneath the surface. Andy’s hard-working and successful, everything I’m not. I hate how envious I feel.

We sit for a couple of hours, the three of them chatting while I nod along silently, spacing out between polite smiles. I try to tune into their conversation, but my mind keeps drifting. Agatha’s presence only adds to the weight—one more thing to overthink.

By early afternoon, I’ve had enough. “Yeah, guys, I’m going to head home,” I say abruptly, standing up.

“Aww, Stevey, why buddy?” Forty asks, his concern half-genuine.

“I’m just a little spent today. I’m going to go home and sleep it off.”

“Dude, it’s like 1 in the afternoon,” Andy says, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I know. I’m done for the day. I’ll talk to you later.”

I don’t wait for their protests. I bolt from the diner, needing to escape their voices, their pity, their normalcy.

What a day it’s been.