The coffee shop emo

                                    

                                          
Brendon's POV:
"Where the fuck are we even going?" I asked, punching Pete's arm lightly to get his attention. 
I'd only come round to his shitty little flat to see if I'd left my jacket at his place. To my dismay the only thing I found was Pete in a state of frantic agitation. He declared he'd lost his phone before forcing me to come with him to some unnamed destination.
                          
"Cafe." Pete said vaguely
                          
"That helped" I rolled my eyes.
                          
"I went there a few days ago and I must've left it there."
                          
"Right. But you need to fucking find your chill, it's just a phone, not the end of the world, why's it so important?" 
                          
"I told Mi- uh someone I'd text them." Pete trailed off.
                          
"Who?" I asked suspiciously. 
Pete was one of those infuriating people who would read your text and not reply because he "forgot". 
Whoever was being concerned here had some serious privilege.
                          
"Doesn't matter." Pete hurried off into the cafe and I followed reluctantly, peeved at his blatant refusal to provide me with even minor details. 
                          
I hadn't been paying attention to where we were going and I really really wish I had because I stopped cold in my tracks as I took in the interior.
                          
I knew this place well. The dark wooden panel walls, soft ceiling lights casting dull shadows onto grey tiled floors, works of weird and wacky modern art hung on the walls. 
The room was littered with dark leather arm chairs that moulded around you and claimed you prisoner as you naively enjoyed your coffee only to struggle to free yourself from their grasp later on. 
I was familiar with the fact the staff took it in turns to choose the music and there was some shitty unheard of emo punk band playing distantly today. That meant one thing.
He was here.
-
I immediately did a u turn and made straight for the door I'd just walked through only for Pete to call for me to come back and join him at the counter.
                          
I scowled and trudged over acting more like a moody teenager than the grown man I was expected to behave as.
                          
I glanced up to shoot Pete a death glare only to lock eyes with him.
                          
"Him" not being Pete, but Ryan. 
                          
Ryan Ross.
                          
"Hi Pete, what can I get you?" Ryan pointedly ignored me and directed his attention chipperly to Pete who opened his mouth only to be cut off by me.
                          
"Hello to you too, Ryan. No need to be rude. Or is it just the whole 'I'm not talking to you' routine again?" 
                          
"Hello Brendon. Good to see you." He offered me the most forced grin I've ever seen in my entire life and tried to turn back to Pete but I wasn't letting that happen anytime soon. I'd already started so why stop now?
                          
"I see you're still sporting the whole 14 year old emo girl get up?" I observed looking him up and down over the counter.
                          
"And I see you're not. Just because you do something doesn't mean I have to." He snapped.
                          
"What you mean like moving on?" I spat back.
                          
Regrettably, I caught onto his vibe when we were dating. Right now, I didn't appreciate his 'friendly' reminder of my choppy side bang, eyeliner phase.