𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓 𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐓⁰²ʰᵉᵐᵐⁱⁿᵍˢ

ㅤㅤㅤ vii ──to belong

asari

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There were nuances of being a part of something around me. They were in the couples that came around to the diner, hand in hand, arm in arm, lips to cheek; a group of friends in a chorus of laughter, skateboards tucked between their arm and body; and more so in the families, their children sitting across them, always sighing at their unhealthy order options but ordering it for them anyway.

I didn't know if I was just highly observant or slightly envious. They were a part of something - and if not, they were a part of each other. And I was an onlooker, peaking through the curtains and dismayed at the memory of the very thing I lost.

Darlene and Calum came to mind. The thought crossed that perhaps I could be a part of them, their something, but they were already each other's, strengthened by the fact that they were siblings.

I looked on at Mike, who was tending to a customer far older than he, defined by the laughlines and wrinkles by his eyes, he must've been around his 60s.

I was sure Mike was a part of something as well, he seemed to know quite so many people who'd bid him goodbye with "See you at Saturday!" even though, when I checked on the shift sheet, he didn't have a shift on Saturday.

The more curious I got, the more I felt like an outsider, permanently stuck on the window like a fly and never invited in.

As I restocked the cup of straws on the counter, I kept my ears peeled at Mike and the old customer's conversation, slowly arranging the straws so they were all properly standing and making proper space for the extra straws on the counter.

"Benny, you know you can trust me," Mike told the customer, his tone gentle. "Just go, okay? It's alright, it's on me,"

Benny hesitated for a moment before sighing, patting Mike's hand, his loose watch shaking on his wrist. "You're a good man, Clifford," He gave a small laugh before getting off the stool. "I'll find a way to give something back to you,"

He gathered his jacket and sent a small smile to Mike, gratitude etched on his faded eyes.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Benny waved and made his way out of the diner, shaky hands pulling on the door handle and getting out.

Tomorrow? It's not even a Saturday yet. I'd checked the schedule so much by then that I practically had its grids and time stamps burnt into the very core of my memory, forever a symbol of my confusion and curiosity.

"You listening in now to conversations, Ase?" Mike pointed out, taking Benny's cup and plate and wiping down the counter.

Shit.

My shoulders flinched a quick second before I made hurried motions to return the filled and extra-organised straw cup back on the very front of the counter.

"Nope," I threw out too quickly.

Mike scoffed. "I didn't take you for such an avid listener,"

I paused, debating whether keeping up with pretending I hadn't been listening in was a good idea. On the forefront, it was not - in any other point of view, it was not, but I still thought it over.

"Look," I started, watching as he gave not much of a strong negative reaction, but rather cool and unfazed by my listening in. "I'm sorry, that wasn't cool of me to do that. But I was just -" I huffed out and laughed, unsure why I was suddenly nervous. "I'm curious,"

Mike cocked a brow at my last word. "Curious?" He glanced at the clock on his phone before returning it in his pocket. "What exactly about?"

He started his way around me and opened the cooler, grabbing a bottle of coke and unbottling it in the counter.