"Let's get some coffee, dude."
"I need to get up early tomorrow, Des. I can't go out now. It's way too late to go for coffee."
"C'mon, man! I'll be busy the day after and the days after that and the days after that and-"
"Alright, alright. Where exactly? What shop?"
"Y'know the one down Voyeé Road?"
"No."
"Aw, shit. Well, there's this diner-café kind of place there called Elan."
"Elan?"
"Yeah, that's the name. The entrance has this huge statue of an angel covered in flowers. You can't miss it."
"So I have to leave now? As in, now?"
"Yeah, dude! I'm already here!"
"What?"
"C'mon, man! Don't keep me waiting!"
"But Desmond-"
Too late. The other line went dead just as Tyler prepared his carefully thought-out reason why he couldn't leave at that moment. Oh, well. At least visiting a new place offers new experiences.
The café was hard to miss. In the dark blanket of the evening scene lay a bright and glittering café that gave off a warm orange glow. It was larger than Tyler had assumed; what he thought was a tiny shop turned out to be a restaurant with quite the extensive size. And by the entrance, as his friend had told him, stood a beautifully sculpted figure of a white angel dressed in long robes dotted with flowers. The face was so serene and peaceful, and its hands rested on its chest, giving the impression that the intangible heart within was filled with contentedness.
It was so goddamn beautiful.
Waiting next to that statue was the all-too familiar figure of Desmond Tanner. His upward-ish blond hair stood out among the shaggy-haired public. He looked up from his gaze on the ground and grinned widely. "Hey, man. I haven't seen you in real life since... since..."
"Since the last year of highschool," Tyler finished. "You're looking great."
"I've got a rockin' bod, dude. Full six pack and everything."
"Why don't we take this conversation inside?"
Desmond nodded. "Yeah, alright. Let's go in."
If the outside of the restaurant was beautiful, then the interior was absolutely gorgeous. Paintings that hung on the walls were colored in warm pastel colors. More statues of white angels with folded wings marked the corners of the room, seemingly guarding the entire restaurant. Tyler had never seen anything classier or more expensive in his whole life, despite having lived in a mansion as a child.
"Café" was definitely an understatement.
A waitress dressed in black-and-white approached the two young men. "Table for how many?"
"Two," the bassist and the drummer said at the same time. They both looked at each other with faces that clearly said "You stole my line!"
The waitress only smiled and nodded. "Please come this way."
She led them down the maze of seats and people, and stopped when she'd arrived at a small table with only two chairs. Once the college students had taken their seats, she gave them each a menu and left. Desmond scanned through the pages like a hungry wolf, while Tyler took his time to admire the decor. Then the waitress returned, with a notepad in hand, and asked them what they wanted to order.
"Just two iced coffees," said Desmond. That is, after all, why they had come there in the first place. Also it was because a college student didn't have much pocket money, so splurging on exotic food that only lasted one mealtime definitely wasn't worth it.
The waitress came back with two iced coffees, just like they had ordered, and left after greeting them with the standard "Enjoy your drinks." Although the coffee was heavily loaded with sugar and cream, which was contrary to his tastes, Tyler enjoyed his drink almost as much as Desmond did. They both sighed in satisfaction after finishing the beverages.
"Look at that, dude," the drummer said, pointing to a flat screen TV that hung on the wall. "More news. I think it's about the bombing."
It was difficult to listen in to what the news reporter was saying because of the chattering of the restaurant's customers, but they managed.
"Police investigations cannot confirm that the explosion was caused by faulty batteries. On the same note, more bombings have occurred. Strangely enough, the explosions have destroyed only shops regarding technical paraphernalia. The oddly specific pattern of these bombings is still being investigated."
The news was cut abruptly by a customer requesting that the channel be changed because "My kids are watching." The restaurant patrons breathed a sigh of relief when finally the news was changed to a movie channel.
"Jeez... Whoever or whatever's doing all those bombings must really hate technology," Desmond commented. "I guess now your laptop can't be fixed. I feel sorry for you, dude."
"I feel sorry for the families of those who died in the explosions," muttered Tyler.
"Aw, c'mon, man. You don't even know if anybody else died."
"It's safe to assume that."
"Well, yeah I guess, but-"
The blonde was cut off by a couple sitting in a table next to theirs. They talked loudly, way too loudly, for the other patrons' tastes. The boisterous chatter was white noise to Desmond and Tyler until they heard an interesting piece of information:
"Haven't you heard? The people investigating say that the bombings are because of this program kids have," the woman said in a gossipy tone.
"Oh yeah, totally," the man replied. "My nephew has that same program. I think it was a game called Nine Craff or something, I don't know. Kids these days have all sorts of gizmos and doohickeys to play with."
After hearing that, Desmond immediately tuned them out. "Stupid adults. Always gossiping about shit they don't even know about."
"I believe they meant Minecraft when they mentioned a game," replied Tyler.
"Well, yeah. No shit, Sherlock!"
"How could a child's game be tied into these catastrophes?" Tyler shook his head at the ridiculousness. "They are assuming things using what little information they have. It's a naive assumption."
"I don't really care, dude. I just don't want old geezers shittin' on my favorite game."
"That's completely understandable. Disregard what they said."
"Way ahead of you."
The night drew on as the two of them conversed about any and every topic imaginable - from friends to jobs, to sex and religion, and finally ended on the subject they had talked about hours ago.
"The new update is pretty cool," said Desmond as he played with the spoon and fork on the table. "I like playing on an Amplified world. It's like touching the sky. Speaking of sky, have you seen his new videos? The one he plays with Deadlox and Bashur? Y'know, Crazy Craft? I'd like to have that modpack someday."
Tyler was too tired and sleepy to listen to his friend's rambling. Every now and then he would say "yeah" or "that sounds great", and Desmond wouldn't even notice his lazy replies. After a few minutes of nonsensical chatter about Minecraft, a sudden "Oh shit!" from the drummer snapped Tyler out of his sleepy spell.
"What? What is it? What's wrong?" The bespectacled teen was fumbling with his words.
"Remember how I said I'd be busy tomorrow?" said Desmond, his voice almost panicky. "Well, I just remembered that I need to prep for it, and it's like 10:30, so I really gotta go."
He spoke too fast for Tyler to understand.
Processing.
Processing.
Process complete. "Oh, is that so? Um, goodbye then. Thanks for tonight."
"Yeah, no prob, dude!" And in a rush, he left.
Tyler yawned and lingered in his seat. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that the TV that was turned to a movie channel was now back to the news, probably because the patrons from earlier had left. Out of boredom and the fact that he didn't really want to leave his seat just yet, he listened to the news.
"Further investigation reveals that traces of gunpowder have been found near the bomb sites. This has baffled the police due to gunpowder no longer being used in bombs. We will explore the matters further after we bring to you the sports news."
Gunpowder, huh? Tyler thought. It was indeed strange for it to be found in the devastation, considering the fact that tech shops don't even have gunpowder, let alone use it for anything. Sighing, he grabbed his bag and left the restaurant, the drowsiness now begging him to go home and sleep.
Mulling over the subject gave him questions and theories as to why things were how they were, but the more important subject at the moment was sleep sleep sleep. So Tyler disregarded his silly thoughts and went home.
They would be saved for another time.
A/N: Well? Whaddaya guys think? Long enough for ya? My back is killing me from working on this chapter for too long! I hope it's worth it.
Like I said, shit's starting to pick up. I plan to make this ride last.
Reviews of all sorts are always appreciated!