Cold Indifference.

The coffee shop was the perfect definition of cozy—like a warm hug on a cold day.

The walls were painted a soft cream color, and little fairy lights were strung across the ceiling, casting a golden glow over everything.

The air smelled like heaven: fresh coffee beans mixed with a hint of vanilla, chocolate pastries, and something spicy, maybe cinnamon.

Indie music played softly in the background, just loud enough to set the mood without being annoying.

People sat scattered around, some typing away on laptops, others reading or laughing quietly with friends.

It was the kind of place where time slowed down, and you could just breathe.

But for Hugo, this place might as well have been a Janitor's closet.

As soon as he stepped in, the little bell above the door chimed, and he let out a loud, defeated sigh.