Two years of coffee-stained overalls. Two years of familiar faces, day-in day-out, yet still complete strangers. Two years since Yuuri had dropped out of college. Two years since Yuuri had wrecked his life. Five years away from his family, to avoid their pitying looks, their disappointment. Two years in the same minimum wage job: taking orders and making coffee. It was simple, he had a routine. He would start work at eight every morning, finishing at four, when Chris tookover for the evening shift. Five years of broken English. He should never have come to Detroit. Five years and nothing to show for it.
Yuuri had wanted to help people. His family, his friends back in Japan had told him he could do it. If he could make people happy, he would. Even if it didn't pay too well. Go into social work, help families, make things better. How disappointed would his parents be now. Yuuri had always TV thought it was an achievable goal. Not aspiring too high so he wouldn't end up disappointed himself. He'd been wrong. The first couple of years at college had been okay. He'd been recommended to the college councillor, who had recommended he join a club. He had, at the local ice-rink. He'd even made a good friend. He was even up-to-date date on his coursework. But not for long. When his best friend moved back to Thailand, it got worse. Phichit had gone to practice in his own country, he was going to be professional. And Yuuri knew he was going to go far, unlike himself. Working past deadlines. He wasn't going to make it. He knew. He knew his parents would be disappointed.
His hands shook. This couldn't be happening now, not while he was pouring coffee creamer. He'd been tired, he'd barely slept last night. He'd barely had any uninterrupted sleep in years, between college and working and the fear of failure. The fear had been what brought him down the most. Fear that stopped him attending college in the second semester of his final year. That stopped him going home. Afraid of the disappointment on their faces. He couldn't think about this now, there were only ten minutes till Christophe came in from this shift. There was still work to do. A smudge of strange symbols appearing on his hand as he hands the cup over to the customer. Not again. For about four years his soulmate had been trying to speak to him. Barely anything before then, sometimes numbers, times for things, weird letters he doesn't understand. Great, his soulmate didn't even speak the same language. He'd never really bothered to find out about his soulmate, they were just another person who expected a lot of you and you were sure to disappoint them. Finally, the bell rings and Christophe winks as Yuuri takes off his apron. Finally, he can go home.
It's not much. There's a bed and a couch and a restroom with a shower, a kitchen with a microwave, stove and oven. It's nothing like home but it gets the job done. Wages pay the rent, for food and for bills. It's not luxurious in the least, but it does it's job. A few books scattered around. College books he couldn't bare to get rid of, a few Japanese to English dictionaries. Sometimes his parents call, they know he doesn't go to college now, but he still won't see them face to face. Sometimes Phichit video calls him too. Phichit had taught him some basic Thai. Yuuri has never responded to his soulmate. Not that he had anything comprehensible to respond to. He splashes water over it and smudges it before sighing and laying down on his bed. He hadn't even checked the message.
A simple 'Hello?'