THROUGH A FRACTURED EXISTENCE, TO THE RHYTHM OF ETERNITY.
IL MATTINO
Il Mattino is an Italian cafe sidled between a bookstore and a jewelry boutique in small but popular business district, just a downhill walk from the local non-denominational Christian church and residential area. The ocean is less than a ten minute drive away and within view in the distance. The area is cool even when the sun is at its apex at noon with a tinge of sea salt in the breeze.
The cafe itself is medium-sized with plenty of light let in with the large storefront windows. The decor is simple, but accented with key decor with wheat centerpieces and plants. There are some trinkets that are displayed that may look out of place, like atop the charging counter there's a sliding puzzle painted in pink, orange, yellow, blue, purple, and all shades in between.
The cafe specializes in coffee and brunch, though pastries are sourced from local Italian bakeries in downtown Little Italy.
While the establishment has two floors, the cafe takes up the ground floor. There is a yard for some reason, but that's because there are four dogs. They're kept separate from the cafe to make sure patrons are not disturbed, but people are free to go outside to pet them. Reviews have mentioned the owner lives on the second floor and the dogs' names are Harold, Olive, Vera, and Rocco.

no subject
[ He doesn't take it as a compliment either way.
Just as he said, he wouldn't just give his name away so easily, but: ]
It's Adolphe.
[ There's really something about Jacopo. ]
no subject
Uhm. ]
Jacopo. [ What does he say after that? Thank you for coming to my cafe? Isn't it too late for that? Also too late to say it's nice to meet you? ] This doesn't mean you get a free pass to talk to me like that all the time.
[ Not that it bothered him so much to begin with. ]
no subject
It doesn't look like it actually bothers you that much to the point it looked like preference.
no subject
[ (suwabe voice) omae... It isn't scathing, but! Still! Principle of engagements! ]
A preference? A preference for what—being disrespected despite providing you a comfortable environment at the cafe?
no subject
... To be familiar.
[ For comfort. ]
no subject
He wants to fight back, but Adolphe already said he feels comfortable around him and... For some reason, he wants to keep that.
WHAT THE FUCK ]
Is there something up with you?
1/2
[ But he's also thinking about how this is strange to him too. He doesn't like people. He's neutral to most at best. What's so special about Jacopo? He doesn't feel anything like there's something special, but...
Oh. ]
But no, I took my meds this morning.
no subject
Another thing he wouldn't just blurt out to anyone. He's still a private person in this universe, but he doesn't look surprised. Or more like, something isn't letting him. He closes his eyes, taking in this realization and hands Harold's leash back to Jacopo. ]
My car's over there, so I'll get going.
no subject
They barely know each other, which he is incredibly cognizant about, but it's comfortable and familiar. They barely know each other, but he's wondering about his gloved hands. Why no direct touch? Is there something wrong with his left hand? They barely know each other, but he wonders about his sleep schedule. What kind of work does he do? They barely know each other, but he wonders about the medication even if that is entirely none of his business. (Has this happened before? Deja vu?)
You don't wonder these things about strangers, not when you're an incredibly busy man who is selective of company. May not even need any, actually. This is insane behavior and he squashes all those thoughts as quickly as possible when accepting the dog leash. ]
Goodbye, Adolphe.
[ The dogs all bark once at different times like they're saying bye, too. They just assume their paths will cross, though Jacopo is thinking to himself maybe it's best they don't meet again. He doesn't believe in silly things like fate and yet his expression clearly shifts to one that loathes to see Adolphe leave.
He masks it quickly and methodically. A look of generalized concern is better than whatever the hell he's feeling. ]
no subject
Adolphe's thoughts are muddled as he drives away—composed and neutral on the outside, but absolute chaos on the inside.
It's the next day and the news is always the same: mundane things, sometimes dangerous weather forecasts, some crime that happened in the city, an unfortunate incident that involved a fire in an orphanage, a traffic accident on the highway.
It's always the every day.
Adolphe doesn't return to the cafe for weeks, but when he finally does, he orders the cheapest coffee on the menu. As he waits, he's by the charging station, looking down at the sliding puzzle with some curiosity. The busy time has been over for a while. ]
no subject
Jacopo doesn't confide in her.
Days pass, then weeks. The dreams continue as usual. Wheat fields or blankets of clouds... One where he begged desperately, another where he left solemnly. These are the only stupid phenomenons he can tolerate.
He lives his life as he used to, mind focused on work. The cafe is supposed to be relief from the stressful and suffocating real estate field, but it's his curse to be a workaholic. The only satisfaction he gains is from progress, not enrichment of his personal life though now he invites Maria to have dinner sometimes. It's not enough of a social life, she says, but he prefers it this way.
The image of Adolphe sitting at a table begins to fade from his mind. Things can go back to being normal. He can go back to being normal, or so he thought. Adolphe has returned and all of those questions he had before ram into him like they never left.
How can he be... Glad to see him? This man is ruining his life. ]
Your coffee.
[ The cup and saucer are placed in front of him. Jacoo isn't sure how to interact with him after their last farewell... Is it... Awkward? Is it... Normal. It should be normal. ]
no subject
When Jacopo approaches Adolphe with the coffee, he can notice that Adolphe seems even more tired than before despite the neutral expression. He looks down at the cup and saucer before looking back at the sliding puzzle. Then he sits down and looks at Jacopo. ]
Thanks. Have you been doing well?
[ He's not exactly great at small talk, but he tries instead of ignoring Jacopo. His black gloves are the same, but they seem more worn out and damaged in some parts. It looks like burn damage. ]
no subject
The puzzle piece today is actually completed, showing a beautiful image of clouds painted in a setting sun's colors. It's vibrant. ]
I have.
[ Used to the stupid amount of work he puts in and used to not having a life outside of that, can't complain. He crosses his arms as he looks down at Adolphe, giving a pause to examine him before he says anything. Again, bombarded with questions he thought he escaped when Adolphe stopped showing up.
It's better that this isn't their first or second meeting, but still. Why—does he care so much? ]
Better than you, at least.
no subject
[ He takes the cup and finally sips. It sure is waking him up. His gaze returns to the sliding puzzle. ]
Did you ever see a sky like this before? It's the sort of sky that you see at dusk.
[ It's pretty and he thinks there would be a great spot to watch with the dogs nearby if Jacopo ever decided to go, but this is just him thinking about it. ]
... Though I'm surprised that you remember me. I wasn't here for a long time.
[ And there's a small smile about it. ]
no subject
[ But the wording isn't exactly indicative or confident. In twenty-six years, he's bound to have seen it, but never had he stopped to admire it. He had other things on his mind, a corporate and social ladder to climb.
But... He's thinking about it now only because Adolphe asks. Piecing together some memories, he can picture that sky and it's beautiful—he never noticed... Always looking elsewhere, much like now when he can hear Adolphe's smile but his eyes are on the puzzle.
There's a niggling feeling and worry that if he saw his expression that it'll change him as a person, when he's already becoming... Strange. ]
You're difficult to forget. [ He has actively tried. It worked a little aside from stray thoughts, but in truth he never forgot. When he feels it's safe, he turns to him. ] A car isn't meant for sleeping.
Are you between places?
no subject
[ Just a simple answer to the last question. He takes another sip of the coffee. It's nice for its price. Definitely worth it. The food here is worth it too. Adolphe thinks about it as he glances over at the menu from a distance. There's a lot of selections and he'll probably never get to try them all. He doesn't have the money for it, and now, nor the time.
The coffee still isn't finished, cup held up by his left hand, but there's a subtle strangeness to it about the way he holds it as if it's not natural. Like there's something wrong-- ]
I'd like to come back. Maybe I will, but you probably wouldn't like it.
no subject
His hand, too—what's wrong?
But what Adolphe says next stops him from all he plans to say and ask. ]
I wouldn't like it? That's an extreme assumption.
[ Even though it could be partly true. Adolphe keeps showing up and changing the rhythm of his everyday comfortable life.
...
Is it so comfortable? Is it living? Why does he doubt himself when he's here? ]
You're my dear customer. Overly comfortable, but always welcome.
no subject
[ A small wry expression, as if that's enough to explain everything. He passes off the coffee cup to his right hand, lowers his left, and resumes drinking it. Quiet sip by sip. ]
no subject
You're saying you want to come here, but not buy anything?
[ Yeah! That's annoying, but? He's very confused. What's the point of coming to a cafe, otherwise? ]
no subject
[ Yeah. That's all he's getting out of this. ]
no subject
... But why come here in the first place? What would you be enjoying?
[ Like. Is it the atmosphere? Jacopo wouldn't go out of his way to hang at a cafe just because it gives him good vibes???
But maybe Adolphe is different? ]
no subject
I like the atmosphere here. It's cozy and always smells nice.
[ That's a little more detail than what Adolphe wanted to say, and he's always been conscious about oversharing, but he feels like he can't stop dumping words. ]
And I like... talking to you.
[ It's almost through gritted teeth, but his face still looks neutral about it like whatever is blocking him from feeling annoyed. He already said his reasons as to why before. ]
It's better than staying in my car.
no subject
Trying to stay composed and to slow down his thoughts. He delivers this flatly with a squint. ]
And you accused me of flirting.
[ Even though he knows that's not what this is, he thinks they need a brush of levity. ]
no subject
[ binch,
With that, some of what he was like the first time when he visited starts to show. The second time felt like he was prevented from expressing anything on his face, and it's still a bit similar now. ]
no subject
[ He can feel Adolphe's "no" coming up next, so he moves onto the next part even though he's studying his expression... Or lack thereof.
A small lopsided smile. ]
Why don't you ask me to be your friend?
[ Maybe this will help with the guard they've both put up... It could clear up the dissonance a bit, too. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...