Yixing walked briskly through the crowded streets, the crisp morning air oozed through his black sweater. His breathe blurring his vision as he made his way to the small coffee shop just ahead on the corner.  He waited, shivering, for the street the clear before crossing it. Lightly jogging to the entrance and let the warm air engulf him as he stepped inside.

He and Kris used to come here often before they got the news of their debut. Yixing still remembered what Kris used to order, café mocha with a double shot of espresso.

Yixing was never much of a coffee drinker, but when Kris first came to the company it was a bridge to common ground.  At first he only went along to show him the way, it became a habit as they got to know each other.  He sighed as the memories came back to him, those first awkward silences to the laughs, and the moments of tense shoulders from particularly rough days. He smiled to himself as he stepped towards the barista and ordered his drink.

Relaxing into the chair, he stared out the window with his drink warming his hands.  He wondered if Kris remembered all the memories this shop held. He could almost picture himself sitting across from Kris, pretending to listen to him chatter; almost hear their shoes squeaking against the tile after running through rain, almost hear his throaty laugh when he said something that wasn’t actually funny.

They had started to drift apart after they debuted. Yixing wasn’t sure why. It was like they had been absorbed into their own little worlds. It only seemed they came together was when Kris needed help with dancing and when they stood together on stage, but it was strictly professional, it had no resemblance of their easy friendship. Maybe it was because he was burdened with position of leader. Maybe Yixing lost himself in improving his dancing. Maybe they just didn’t need each other anymore.

Yixing was the one who initiated the contact; if it weren’t for him Kris would’ve been alone until someone else came along. Yixing knew what it was like being alienated. He took a sip of coffee. Yixing knew how it felt to have to be strong and pull through. It was a sad existence. He didn’t want that on anyone else. Yixing’s friendship was the platform for Kris to stand on. 

He rubbed his thump up and down the side of the cup. Yixing wasn’t immune to the deprivation. He always found himself caught in small waves of nostalgia. Sometimes he questioned why he came here. Being here always brought a feeling of loss. But it also brought back the memories.

End.

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