Friends

PART TWENTY-SIX: UNTRUE

A normal Thursday. I am sitting in the living room that all of us created. The high-top ceiling was masked with an aura of titanium lights and looped frames hanging in the corner. Harry overpowered the living room with his heck of an idea. Purchasing a twenty-six-inch television proclaimed by the goodness of his store, East Coffee. A slide to the left, walking hall downtown, the kitchen happens to be seen. A further step concludes with dishes that everyone refills. Not for as long as the cabinet is packed with groceries. Staircases near the main door near the living room and another one at the back door, right beside the kitchen.

All of a sudden, I heard cranking footsteps on the staircase. I guess they're on it. The sun's out, and their blood is getting hotter than the sun. Fuming as I assume.

"It's not my turn to pay the bill. Who, in their state of mind, would decide something like this?" Harry came down the stairs, arguing with Fiona, as I turned my back and stared at them on the couch.

I can hear Fiona and Harry arguing in the kitchen, releasing anguish with their words. What a place to make amends to. A place surrounded by dull knives, forks, and appliances that can be thrown and knocked everywhere.

"Someone like what? Because I did everything," Fiona exclaimed at him. "I cooked your meals and even got pleasure out of it. I paid the bills alongside Fiona, Rode, and even Wayne. I said one thing: just one thing, and you're denying it as if it's costing your life and your wealth when I'm the reason you got all of those. We can't be the only one providing for your pride in this house. What do you think I'm doing at the shop?" She argued back at Harry, stepping a milestone back at him.

"Do you think I don't have any purpose in this household? I'm sorry if I make you feel that way but you took me for granted," he furiously told Fiona, catching up on her footsteps. "I don't have the money nor my dignity left in this forsaken mess we built."

I can imagine their voices murmuring inside my head, wishing the sirens would vanish. No one wants to get in their way. It's best to stay out of other people's business rather than showing sides. Ever since Jade and Wayne are not around all the time, I can see myself bridging another smile, and coordinating with them as the plot thickens. All I know is that the heat will be gone in an hour.

I feel like the house we built was falling apart. Fiona and Harry this morning, not this morning but every morning. Things are becoming as tough as they used to be. This wasn't the pact I had imagined for ourselves. Instead of a place where we could live happily, freely, and bravely, we live in a place where there's argument in terms. This wasn't the kind of environment I had envisioned, but a special connection that would connect us more deeply. It appears to me that this isn't it.

Harry came down the staircase, running out of breath, wearing a hoodie and jogging pants. He looked at me, "I need to catch some air, do you want to join?"

"Sure, I'll go with you," I said.

We crossed our way to the park and sat down at one of the allotted spaces we could find. The two of us watched the sunset, sitting on the grass. While Harry views the sunset, he asks, "I'm sure you must've heard us earlier in the kitchen. Do you think I should pay the rent?" He looked at my gaze, "I need an opinion from you."

"I think we should all contribute to fully pay the rent," I answered.

"You think so? Well, tough luck. Fiona doesn't," Harry said.

I suggested, "I could take your shift tonight if that's what you want. I don't have anything to do, and you should catch up with Fiona. Make amends and stuff."

"You would do that? I appreciate it," he finally smiled, laying his back on the grass.

We started going back before the full moon rose. As we headed to the house, I went to their coffee shop where Fiona awaits, located down the alley where we used to study. I went inside the store and greeted her.

I come closer to the counter, "Fiona, I came to take over your shift tonight."

Fiona replied, "He didn't want to come? Great."

"No, I'm the one—" I said before Fiona interrupted me.

"You know, he could've come here and work but instead, you're here. What a—" I butted in her words.

"Please, let me finish," she stopped as I looked at her. "I'm the one who made myself come here and take over. I'm worried about you two, okay? You guys should stick together."

The shop had a lot of customers waiting for us to take their orders. Their orders must be dozens of donuts, one iced coffee with a hint of sugar, and to top it all off, a dash of creamer. All I can remember is Fiona handing me their uniform, the vibrant colors brown and black match the ambiance of the coffee. Closing time will be at 8:30 pm and I'm two hours away from the time.

The best thing about their shop "East Coffee," which is located further east of our old school, is the leftovers or untouched pastries. Unlike others, we save them up and sometimes donate them to the poor, but there are circumstances where we consume them.

A few hours passed, and the arrival awaited. It was closing time. I closed the gates of the shop, locked the door with a key, and decided to give the poor a variety of our leftovers. Soon after, I walked until I reached the house living in the cold breeze. As I stepped inside the main door, I felt flabbergasted.