The sun was high in the sky, and bright enough so that the ball of gas could wake Knife up.
After putting his backpack on, he walked on the sidewalk. Where he was going, he didn't know.
The sun scorched the pavement, making Knife walk on a stove that was made for the public use, and that use was walking.
The gray-haired one turned the corner, and a café was there. He didn't have any money, but the building seemed like a nice place to hang out. The place was filled to the brim of what seemed like regulars, as the cashiers were treating them like old friends and making their drinks almost seamlessly.
He went in, and sat on a table. He tapped his fingers on the wooden furniture, thinking of something to entertain himself. Opening his backpack, the glass door opened, and the customer sat down with him.
They looked a little older than him, probably a decade older. The stranger just sat there for a little while until they broke the silence.
"Sorry if I'm too nosy for a stranger, but, how's it going?"
"Fine." Knife replied.
The stranger chuckled, "I've heard that from a lot of people, and that's not what they're actually feeling."
"Why do YOU wanna know?"
"It's obvious that you have something going on, it's fine if you don't wanna talk to me about it, though."
"Is it really fine, though?"
"Hold on-I gotta order us some coffee-" And then, the stranger left to go to the cashier.
In the time that they were there, Knife pondered about something-should he actually trust them?
No, of course not. The last time someone did that, they....
But there was a tiny little... thing in his gut. A thing that bothered him for god knows how long. It commanded him to try new things, to listen to people's thoughts at least once. Every time it came up, Knife just pushed it away, repressed it. It was hard, but at least he couldn't talk to the wrong person.
The stranger came back to the table. "Hey! Sorry if I didn't give you the right flavour, you never told me."
"Eh, it's fine." He grabbed the coffee and sipped on it.
Do it, the gut feeling seemed to say, it strengthening and forming an uneasy feeling in his chest.
After taking a few sips, he made his decision. This chance was probably once in a lifetime, and he needed to make up with his friends before an alien planet is probably blown to smithereens.
"It's just that, I made a huge mistake." He said, "I got into an argument with my friends and I... kinda snapped at them... I said things I shouldn't have said, and... they probably don't wanna talk to me..."
"What was it about?"
"Well..." Knife faltered. He didn't trust them enough for him to say, Hey! We're gonna stop Steve Cobs! You know, like the Meeple CEO!
"We're part of an... important... international, mission- I'm not comfortable talking about it, but, something bad might happen if... if we don't make up... and, I yelled at them about- about that they were the reason we- we got hurt..." He continued.
They adjusted their glasses. "You look a little familiar-did you compete in that show my niece loves?"
"What's it called?"
"Inanimate... sanity- or something."
He blushed, then nodded.
"Oh! Then, there was this girl... was Bulb her name?"
"Lightbulb," Knife corrected, "but yeah, what about it?"
"I heard her saying something about how it isn't what you do, and it's how you do it," They continued, "Basically-there are no bad ideas, only bad executions!"
The person sipped on their beverage. "What I'm saying is that, what you did and said was wrong, but you had good intentions! But, that does not excuse you from any sort of repercussions!" They put the coffee back on the coaster. "Or, maybe I'm wrong."
"Oh... can you let me continue?"
"Proceed."
"Ok, ok, so, we ran into an... accident earlier yesterday. We got seriously hurt," He looked at the many cuts on his shoulder, "and it was- it was their fault... because they led us there... it was very- very dumb of me to get mad at them, when they were total amateurs, and- and I knew what I was getting..."
Their silence was filled in by the distinct chatter of the regulars and new customers.
"Well, why are you talking to me? You know what you did wrong!" They giddily replied, breaking the silence.
Knife almost dropped the cup at that statement. Yeah, why did he want to talk to them? God, he was so 'out of character' as Fan would say.
"W-well, I wanted to know..." He tried to keep his composure. "How do I... apologise?"
"You should give them what they want, instead of what you want for them."
"Then, I should leave them..."
The person started giggling.
"I'm having a moment here, could you not?-"
"Oh, sorry," They cleared their throat, "it's just that, deep down, they actually miss you." The person took a sip of their coffee, "And they also probably don't want anything bad to happen without you on the mission," they also mumbled.
"Oh, uh- what do I do, give them gifts?" Knife sarcastically replied.
"Yep!" They exclaimed.
"I was being sarca-"
"That's a thing that I do! Well, not the sarcasm, but the gift-giving!"
"But- but I don't have any money-"
"No worries!" The person reached into their bag. "Here, 50 dollars!"
"Are you not... scared that I'll just steal this and go?"
"Nope!"
The gray-headed one smiled, and stood up. "Oh, and- by the way, what's your name?"
"Towel!"
"Thanks, Towel!"
"You're welcome!" Towel waved at him as he walked out of the café, ready to do some more shopping.
YOU ARE READING
The Beginning Of The End
Fanfiction*beep* *beep* *beep* The fire alarm rang. Now, it was usual for it to sound early in the morning, as the Cherries pranked them every week with that. But it was unusual for it to sound at 4 in the morning. OJ got up from his bed to tell them off, bu...
