Simple

The blend of hazelnut, cinnamon, Irish cream, creme brule, and a hundred other scents intermingling should be an overwhelmingly strong odor, one that should be offensive to the senses. Not so at Natty Joe's Coffee House. The combined elements lose their individual identities, fusing together to create a rich, welcoming aroma. It was a scent Brycen longed for during the week, his reward for surviving the nine-to-five rat race he endured Monday through Friday. His Saturday morning reprieve.





Taking his usual window seat, Brycen looked out at the crowded streets, watching as strangers dashed by to unknown destinations, countless faces he could not quite see. This was what he had earned for his week of hell. He had no meetings to attend, no deadlines with his name written on it, and nowhere to be. His only need at the moment was one large Caramel Espresso Macchiato and a Mallorca sweet roll. Life was good, even if it did cost him twelve-ninety-five.



People on the streets -- ee da de da de.



Okay, so the coffee and roll weren't the only things he needed. He also needed to get the words from "Under Pressure" by Queen and David Bowie out of his head. It was Saturday; there was no pressure. The words to the song played on a continual loop and he hummed along distractedly. Why "Under Pressure" was in his head he had no idea, and then he remembered the line about giving love one more chance.



Ugh! He hated when a song was stuck in his head, especially one that reminded him what an utter failure he was in love. He'd spent a year giving 'one more chance' to Elijah. The constant fights had exhausted him. He had tried to be the reasonable one, always tried to look at things from Elijah's perspective. In the end, right or wrong, he was the one to back down, always apologizing first. He also learned to turn a blind eye to the betrayals. It had been easier to accept Elijah's lame excuses for why he had stayed out all night, easier for him to live in denial. The cold, hard truth was ugly and he had turned away from it. In reality, Elijah had been a cheating bastard, something he had not wanted to believe. He had refused to think about the betrayal too hard. If he didn't give it thought, he could go along happily in his own fucked up version of reality.



For some reason that he couldn't even explain to himself, he had tried to hold on to Elijah out of some screwy desire to be everything Elijah needed and wanted. Brycen wasn't sure what that said about him or why he had been so desperate he would ignore the signals that were slapping him painfully in the face on a daily basis. What did he expect his payoff to be for all his hard work? He certainly hadn't worked his ass off to come home from work one night to find Elijah's bags packed and a good-bye of I'm sorry. Things just aren't working for me.



What the hell did that mean anyway? What wasn't working? The fact that he had paid all the bills so Elijah could pursue his singing career without having to actually get a job? Brycen kept the apartment clean, cooking all the meals so such ordinary things such as everyday life did not disturb Elijah's creative muse.



"Stop it!" he chastised himself as he returned his attentions to the strangers passing by. The past was in the past. It was Saturday morning. He had survived another week, and he'd be damned if he was going to sit here and dwell on Elijah. He was going to enjoy his coffee, dammit.



"Hey Bry," Natty said in greeting as she placed his coffee and roll in front of him.



"Ah God, am I getting that predictable?" he groaned.



"Nah, you just appreciate the best things on my menu."



"Thanks, Nat. Good taste or not, still sounds like I'm getting boring."



He felt like it too. Get up. Shower, shave, and dress. The question of boxers, briefs, or commando was the highlight of his morning. He was too fucking boring to go commando and he hated briefs, so it wasn't much of a highlight, really. At eight-ten every morning, he'd walk the four blocks to the subway, then he'd arrive at Michael, Michael, and Lynn, the law firm where he worked as a paralegal, at 8:50. Work until noon. Eat his packed lunch of meat sandwich, raw vegetable salad, and Diet Coke at his desk. If he was feeling adventurous, he might switch the Diet Coke for mineral water. Resume working at 12:30, continue until 5:00. Take the same train back home.



His evenings had become just as predictable as his workday. Arrive home at 5:40. Change into one of his favorite pairs of comfortable sweats then eat dinner. Yay, the first real choice he had to make of the day! Hmm, should it be cardboard frozen pizza, TV dinner, or Ramen Noodles? He also had some variation to his evening routine in the form of what was playing on TV or he could surf the web. Facebook or porn? Watch the news at 11:00 and at 11:30 bedtime. The next morning the whole boring cycle would begin again.



"You just need a night out," Nat informed him as she pushed a wayward blonde strand from her eyes and took the seat across from him. "Come out with Jeni and me tonight. I promise I won't try to set you up on any more blind dates."



Brycen narrowed his eyes at her. "Yeah, your last attempt was... Well, let's just say, so not my type."



"How could you not like Mickey?" Nat snorted. "He even polished your boots."



"Oh my God! That was so fucking embarrassing." He rolled his eyes at her as he picked at his sweet roll. "Thanks for reminding me."



Mickey had fallen to his knees, bent over, and licked his boots right on the dance floor. The worst part was when Mickey had looked up at Brycen with his puppy dog brown eyes, a pout on his lips and said in a very loud voice, 'Wanna be my daddy?' He couldn't get out of the club fast enough after that little display. He'd also threatened to revoke Nat's matchmaking license. Permanently.



"Where the hell did you find him anyway? Spank-me-daddy-dot-com? The better question is, why in the hell did you think of me to set him up with?"



Nat chuckled. "How was I supposed to know the mild-mannered clerk liked to play daddy games after dark?"



Brycen popped a piece of his Mallorca sweet roll in his mouth and pointed a finger at her while he spoke. "You're still on the do-not-set-me-up-list until further notice."



"Stop talking with your mouth full. It's gross. How are you going to find the love of your life with manners like that?"



He shoved a bigger piece in his mouth. "I don't want a date," he grumbled around his food. Natty just rolled her eyes.



"Whatever. I mean, I know you love me. I'm simply the greatest thing you've ever laid eyes on and all that, but really? You'd rather sit here watching strangers every Saturday instead of lying snuggled up to some hunky hard body? C'mon Bry. Come out with Jen and me tonight. You need to get out of this funk you've been in since Elijah..."



"Ah, ah, ah." Brycen twitched a finger at her. "You are not allowed to talk about he who does not matter and no counseling sessions today. Please. I'm not in the mood."



"Bry, you cut so deep with that knife of yours. Moi? Counseling?" She tried for a hurt look as she spoke. Her lips twitched as she held back the smile.



"Say it with a straight face next time. Perhaps it will be more believable."



Nat winked as she rose from her chair. "Gotta get back to the grind, pun most certainly intended. So are you going to come out tonight?"



"God, woman! Shoo. I'll endure your session later if you will just let me enjoy my coffee and sweets in peace."



"Yay! We're meeting at Jen's at seven." She pecked his cheek as she strolled by. "Wear something sexy."



Nat didn't wait for his response, she knew better. 'Wear something sexy' was her way of saying, I'm going to try to set you up with someone. She'd deny it, but it was as if she just couldn't help herself. Natty figured since she found her soul mate in Brad and was disgustingly happy, everyone should be. Her new mission was now trying to find Brycen's soul mate. Whether he wanted her to or not didn't concern her. Natty always had a shoulder to lean on, gave amazing advice without judgment, and was by far his best friend. But, Jesus, she could be a royal pain in the ass.



Brycen sipped his coffee, letting the warm flavor soothe him as he stared out the window. The more he thought about going out with Nat and Jen, the better he began to feel. It wasn't as if he had a full social calendar, or any excuse why he couldn't go. He would have fun tonight, that was a given. It was hard not to with those two insane women around. Besides, a night out dancing and laughing sure beat the hell out of sitcom reruns or internet porn.