The morning air was chilly and a cold wind swept over the street, sending shivers down Damien's spine. He breathed into his palm and rubbed them together before digging them into the pockets of his coat, hoping the soft leather would warm them up.
It did nothing of that sort.
Damien turned down the street, his teeth clattering softly as he eyed the café on the other end of the street. It was the same one he had seen Diana and Richard at and and the sight of it brought back memories of that day.
He shook his head, pushing away the thoughts. That wasn't why he came here today. He needed a cup of coffee... badly.
Taking in a deep breath, he stepped down from the curb as he waited for a car to drive by. He was about stepping into the road when he suddenly heard a familiar voice. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head to the voice.
John.
The old man stood in front of his former workplace-the publishing firm-watching as some men uprooted the sign at the front. His throat bobbed up and down as he watched them struggle with the metal bars of the post.
"Don't bend the damn thing, goddammit," he shouted at the men before taking a small sip of the cup of coffee in his hands.
Coffee.
Seeing the cup instantly reminded Damien of his mission. Without looking, he made to cross the road when he suddenly heard someone shout his name. The abrupt shout caused him to freeze in place, just as a car zoomed past him.
"What in the hell?" he cursed under his breath as he took two steps backwards. He made to turn sharply, but his foot tripped on the edge of the curb, sending him straight to the ground, face first.
Damien groaned in pain as he laid still on the ground, refusing to move. His head ached badly and from the tickle he felt on his forehead, he could tell the fall had broken his skin.
"Shit," he cussed as his hands traveled to the throbbing pain. A warm liquid greeted his hands, confirming his thoughts.
"You're a clumsy fella."
Damien looked up, his blurry vision adjusting to focus on the huge man standing in front of him.
John.
"Stupid as always," he scoffed as he turned away from Damien and walked back towards the men working on his signboard.
"Mr. John," Damien called as he struggled to pull himself to his feet. "I wasn't expecting to see you out here this early."
No response.
Damien, holding his bleeding head in his palm, took in a deep breath through clenched teeth, and began walking toward John.
"Why are you taking the sign out--"
"I fired you last week and this is the first time since you ever worked with me, that you're actually passing by early," John said as he turned to Damien. He took a small sip of coffee from the cup before smiling. "What caused the sudden change?"
"I just... I don't know," Damien muttered under his breath as he shoved his hands into his pockets. A long silence ensued between the two, until it was broken by Damien. "What's with... this?" he asked, waving his hands at the working men.
"Well, the firm's gone bankrupt," John answered with a small sigh as he downed the remaining content of his coffee. "I'm selling the building to make up for the firm loss."
"Oh," Damien mumbled as he brought his gaze to the ground. He wasn't sure how to react to John's news. The man had fired him not too long ago and now he was losing the firm.
What was he to feel? Happiness? Sadness? He didn't know the answer to that question. But he did feel something at that moment-indifference.
John turned to Damien suddenly, causing him to look up at him. "What the hell are you even doing here?" he asked, throwing his empty coffee paper cup into the garbage can beside him.
Damien watched the cup bounce off the garbage stacked on top of a bagged garbage before falling to the ground with a weak thud.
"I just came for some coffee before I go meet my girlfriend," he replied, his gaze still on the squeezed cup. "Are you going to pick that--"
"You want to go meet the woman who abandoned you for some rich fella?" John asked, amusement etched in his tone as he let out a dry laugh. "Man, you're such a loser."
Before Damien could say anything, John turned back to the men who had finally successfully removed the signboard. He let out a small grunt as he shook his head.
"Not worth my time," he muttered under his breath as he turned back to the road.
He was about stepping off the curb when the his gaze traveled back to the squeezed cup. Hissing, he picked up the cup and shoved it in-between a filled garbage bag and the rim of the garbage can.
"That's how you properly throw garbage," Damien said through clenched teeth as he turned back to the road.
Luckily, John didn't hear a word he said.
********************
"Um... a cup of black coffee, please," Damien muttered under his breath as he dipped his hands into his back pocket and pulled out a wallet.
The café was quiet and empty, left for the soft hum of the ceiling fans above Damien. The air wasn't as chilly as before as the sun had begun to peak through the clouds, casting a golden hue through the large windows.
Damien glanced down at his watch. Half past six. Did he really wake up that early?
"Black coffee?"
Damien looked up from his watch to see the barista push a medium sized paper cup towards him. He watched the silhouette of the coffee inside swirl around before finally settling.
"How much will that be?" he asked the barista as he opened his wallet and pulled out his credit card.
"That'd be five dollars." Damien handed the barista his card before grabbing his cup. The heat of the coffee burned through the cup but he refused to let go. It seemed to calm him... strangely.
The barista typed in the amount into the POS before swiping the card. The machine made a small beeping sound and the expression on the barista's face changed. Grunting, he typed the amount in again and swiped the card but it made the same noise again.
"What is it?" Damien asked after watching it happen for the third time.
"I don't think you have much on your account," the barista replied as he handed Damien his card. "It's declining."
"Oh," Damien muttered under his breath.
He was more than sure there was money in that card. Or was it the other...
Pulling out his wallet again, he removed his second card and handed it to the barista, but when it was swiped it into the machine, it provided the same result.
"Empty too," the barista replied with a small sigh as he gave Damien his card.
This was unbelievable. How did he not have any money in both cards? He was sure there had been some--
Then it struck him-Diana.