Kyle sat on the edge of his small apartment window, the city lights below flickering like distant stars trapped in concrete cages. He stared at his reflection in the glass, the pale halo of streetlamps cutting across his face. Sometimes, he wondered if he even existed beyond the blur of days and half-remembered dreams.
"Another day… another empty tomorrow." he muttered to himself, voice barely audible over the hum of the city. He hugged his knees closer, a weak attempt at comfort. The orphanage had taught him resilience but not how to make life feel worth it. He had learned to survive, not to live.
The alarm on his phone buzzed. Harsh and unrelenting. Kyle let it slide across the table before going to snooze it. Work didn't wait for self-pity morning feelings and neither did life, though it often felt like it should. Coffee shops were the sort of places that demanded smiles, small talk and the constant illusion of cheerfulness. And Kyle was good at it or at least, decent enough to avoid complaints.
By the time he arrived at Brew Haven the morning rush was already fading. He tied his apron with the precision of someone who had done this ritual a thousand times and tried to shake the gloom that still clung to him like a wet coat.
Hours passed into the afternoon. The rhythmic clatter of espresso machines, the hiss of steam, the murmur of customers… it was a dull symphony he moved through almost automatically. He offered smiles to strangers, refilled cups and wiped tables but inside, his thoughts kept drifting to the hollow feeling that had become his constant companion.
"Hey, Kyle!" A bright voice cut through the monotony.
He looked up from wiping down the counter and saw Mira, a small figure with an oversized backpack slung over one shoulder, beaming at him. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of pride and relief. Kyle's chest lifted slightly with a warm flicker of something like hope.
"You're here early." he said, trying to match her energy.
"I wanted to see you as soon as possible." she said, practically bouncing on her heels. "I passed! My math exam! I..." She paused to catch her breath, excitement making her words tumble out like a waterfall. "I studied like you told me, Kyle! I… I actually did it!"
Kyle felt an unfamiliar tug of pride, softening the edges of his gloom. Mira had always struggled with school, resenting the rules and structure that seemed to cage her creativity. He had encouraged her relentlessly... sometimes harshly, always insistently. And now, here she was, proof that at least some guidance had not fallen on deaf ears.
"That's… really good, Mira." he said, forcing a smile that felt natural for once. "I'm proud of you. You actually did it."
She grinned, her dimples deepening. "I couldn't have done it without you. Seriously. You… you made me believe I could, even when I didn't."
Kyle chuckled, a sound that surprised even him. "Well, I only believe in the impossible sometimes." He shook his head, returning to the task of clearing a nearby table. "Come on. Let's celebrate, yeah? Just… a little... nothing fancy. I can ask my manager for a little advance. We can go grab dinner."
Her eyes lit up like fireworks. "Really? You'd do that?"
Kyle nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You earned it."
He found his manager behind the counter, busy organizing inventory. "Hey, can I… uh, get a small advance on my pay? I need it for… a little dinner."
"For that little girl?" The manager raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Fine, but don't turn this into a habit."
Kyle thanked him and handed Mira a playful wink. "See? We're set."
The two of them were walked out and went into a small, cozy diner with warm lights and the rich smell of frying bacon. They were led to a corner booth, away from most of the other patrons and sat down. Kyle ordered a variety of dishes: fries, sandwiches, pasta and a dessert to finish... enough to feel like a feast but not overly extravagant.
Mira watched him place the plates on the table, her eyes wide. "Wow… you really did this."
Kyle shrugged, a small, awkward smile. "You passed. That deserves more than just a high-five."
The two of them dug in, laughter mixing with conversation. Mira recounted funny stories from school, exaggerated problems she had with her classmates and moments she had tried to hide from teachers. Kyle found himself genuinely laughing, letting go of the weight that had been pressing on him all day.
"You know." Kyle said between bites, "I always knew you could do it. You just… didn't believe it yourself. But I did."
Mira blushed lightly, looking down at her plate, then back at him. "Thanks, Kyle… really. I don't think I'd have done it without you pushing me."
Evening came in a warm bubble of shared joy. Kyle realized how rare it was to feel this… light. He watched Mira laugh at some silly joke she'd made and a small, protective part of him felt determined to keep that smile in the world, no matter what.
When they finally stepped outside, the city was bathed in the golden-red hues of the setting sun. Mira tucked her hands into her jacket pockets, looking up at the sky.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" she said softly.
Kyle nodded, his gaze on the deepening sunset. "Yeah… it is."
They walked side by side in silence for a moment, letting the last light of the day wash over them.
"You ever wonder..." Kyle said, glancing at the dimming sky. "why it feels like the world is always… just a little too heavy? Like it's waiting for something terrible to happen but you don't know what?"
Mira frowned, tilting her head. "I… I guess. But isn't it better to keep walking, anyway? Keep moving? Even if it's heavy, even if it's dark?"
Kyle paused, considering her words.
Then he glanced at her. "Hey… it's getting dark. I should take you home."
Mira crossed her arms, mock-annoyed. "I'm not a little girl, you know?"
Kyle smirked. "You're still in school. So technically… you are a little girl."
Mira rolled her eyes but her lips tugged into a grin. "Alright, Dad. Take me home then."
Kyle chuckled, shaking his head as they fell into step together...