The place was small and cozy, tucked into a corner of the street with warm lights glowing from the windows. Ethan parked his bike nearby and walked in, scanning the room.
"Ethan!"
He turned to see Nate waving from a corner table. The guy looked almost exactly the same — tall, athletic build and long combed brown hair, as well as a smile that could light up a room.
Ethan couldn't help but smile back as he made his way over.
"Nate," Ethan said, shaking his hand before sitting across from him. "You haven't changed a bit."
"And you look like you've been through the wringer," Nate said with a grin, though his tone was lighthearted.
Ethan laughed, feeling the tension ease a little. "You could say that."
A waitress came by, handing them menus and taking their drink orders. Ethan opted for water, while Nate went for a beer.
"So," Nate said, leaning back in his seat, "what's been going on with you? It's been, what, six years?"
"Something like that," Ethan said. He debated how much to share but decided to keep it simple. "Life's been... complicated. A lot of ups and downs."
Nate raised an eyebrow. "Complicated how?"
Ethan hesitated, then shrugged. "Lost my job. Got blamed for something I didn't do. Spent a while just trying to figure out what the hell I was doing with my life."
Nate frowned. "Man, that sucks. I had no idea. Why didn't you reach out?"
"I didn't want to drag anyone else into it," Ethan said honestly.
Nate nodded, his expression serious. "I get that. But still, it's good to see you now. You seem... better."
"Yeah," Ethan said, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I am better. Things are finally turning around."
Their food arrived — a mix of burgers and fries that reminded Ethan of their college days. They talked and laughed, reminiscing about old times and catching up on where life had taken them.
Nate had started his own marketing business, which was doing well. He talked about his wife, his two kids, and the challenges of balancing work and family.
This triggered Ethan in a way, Nate already had kids… it made him jealous a bit.
"And you?" Nate asked, taking a sip of his beer. "What's next for you?"
Ethan leaned back, thinking about the renovations, the food truck business, and the steady progress he was making. "Honestly? I'm just focused on building something for myself. Something stable, you know?"
Nate smiled. "Sounds like you're on the right track."
By the time they finished eating, the restaurant had started to quiet down. They paid the bill, splitting it evenly despite Nate's protests to cover the whole thing.
As they stepped outside, the night air was cool and refreshing.
"Hey," Nate said, clapping a hand on Ethan's shoulder. "Don't be a stranger, alright? Let's do this again sometime, Maybe you could drop by the house,"
Ethan nodded, smiling. "Yeah, I'd like that."
They parted ways, and Ethan climbed back onto his bike. As he rode home, the city lights passing in a blur, he felt a strange sense of closure.
Meeting Nate had reminded him of the person he used to be, but it also showed him how far he'd come.
#####
It was a cool Monday morning, and for once, Ethan wasn't thinking about food trucks or renovations. He stood in front of a sleek clothing store downtown, arms crossed, staring at the polished glass doors.
"Why am I even here?" he muttered under his breath. He glanced down at his plain, worn-out sneakers and the faded jeans he had been rotating all week.
The truth was glaring at him: his wardrobe was practically nonexistent. He had been so caught up in building his businesses that he hadn't spared a thought for himself.
Ethan stuffed his hands into his pockets and sighed. "You've got half a million sitting in your account, Ethan," he told himself. "Time to stop looking like you crawled out of a dumpster."
Taking a deep breath, he pushed the door open.
The interior of the store screamed luxury.
Mannequins dressed in elegant suits and trendy casualwear stood like sentinels, and the faint scent of expensive cologne lingered in the air.
Shelves and racks displayed clothes that looked so pristine Ethan wondered if they had ever been touched.
He felt out of place almost immediately. His sneakers squeaked slightly against the polished floor, and he caught a glimpse of himself in one of the mirrors.
Next to the chic displays, he looked like he had wandered in by mistake.
A customer service associate — a slim man with perfectly coiffed hair and an expression that screamed disinterest — approached him.
"Good morning, sir," the associate said, his tone polite but flat. His eyes flicked over Ethan's outfit, and Ethan didn't miss the slight lift of his eyebrow.
"Morning," Ethan replied curtly, feeling the judgment radiating from the man.
"May I assist you with something specific today?" the associate asked, clearly skeptical that Ethan belonged here.
Ethan clenched his jaw but kept his tone even. "Yeah, I'm looking to update my wardrobe. Shirts, pants, shoes — the works."
The associate nodded, though his skepticism didn't fade. "Of course. Follow me, please."
Ethan was led to a section of neatly folded shirts, each one more expensive than anything he had ever bought before.
The associate began showing him options, explaining fabrics and cuts in a tone that made it clear he didn't expect Ethan to buy anything.
"This one is Egyptian cotton," the associate said, holding up a crisp white shirt. "Very popular among our clients."
Ethan nodded, barely listening. Instead, he ran his hand over the fabric. It was smooth, softer than anything he'd ever owned.
"I'll take it," he said.
The associate blinked. "Oh. Excellent choice," he said, recovering quickly.
They moved on to pants. Ethan chose a few pairs of tailored trousers and dark jeans.
Then came shoes — leather loafers and sleek sneakers that felt like walking on clouds. With each selection, the associate's attitude shifted.