"The baby blue's a hundred times better!" Gloria exclaimed.

"It's too light," Mary whined.

"Why am I here, again?"

Ahmad put his arm around Tristan's shoulders, "Because Mary asked Alan to go shopping with her and he, for some reason, invited me. And I'm not doing this to myself."

"The more the merrier," Alan joined them.

"So you dragged, Ahmad, Evelyn, Gloria, and me here," Tristan sighed.

"Glores, just let her get the darker shade," Alan finally stopped their bickering.

"Thank you."

"I still think the baby blue is cuter," Gloria grumbled.

"Guys, which is better?" Evelyn came back from the depths of the store with two pairs of fluffy slippers in hand.

"Oh my God!" Gloria squeaked, "These are so cute!"

"Are they seriously getting fluffy animal slippers?"

"At least I didn't get a strawberry slushie," Mary stuck out her tongue at Alan.

"So strawberry slushies are childish now?!"

Tristan shook his head. The shopping trip was good at the beginning but now he was getting a headache. Tristan had to blend in, however. Sometimes blending in meant sacrificing a few brain cells for a four-hour shopping spree.

"Ann would've loved the children's section," Evelyn pointed out.

"But she would've hated the walking," Tristan answered half-heartedly.

"I can't believe her maternity leave starts next month."

"August is two days away, aren't you a secretary?"

"It's still next month."

"Sure," Ahmad gave a sneaky smirk.

"This necklace is so pretty," Gloria halted at a jewelry shop.

"It's a sapphire. Do you know how expensive that is?"

"The green would suit her though."

"Too expensive, Glores," Alan pulled her away.

The rest of the group followed, but Tristan stayed. A certain sapphire had caught his eye. It reminded him of a beach. It reminded him of serenity. It reminded him of a certain someone.

"Tristan?"

"Are you guys hungry?" he questioned.

"Yeah."

"Not really."

"It's because of that slushie you've been slurping all day."

"Mary, leave my slushie alone."

"That's our cue," Tristan stated once Alan and Mary started arguing.

They headed towards the food court. After choosing a table, they spread out to get food. Tristan found himself standing at the Popeyes counter.

"A loaded chicken wrap? Nice."

"Thanks," Tristan replied. He hadn't thought about what to order. He was busy thinking about Dahlia for some reason. He was thinking about how she helped him that day without asking questions. He remembered how they ate chicken wraps together.

"I wish she was here. She would've made this more fun."

"It's normal where I live, ok!"

"It's so weird."

"What's happening?" Tristan whispered to Evelyn.

"They're discussing whether having a bidet in the office bathroom is weird."

"It's hygienic," Ahmad insisted.

"I remember when you asked the old manager for one," Gloria giggled and Evelyn choked on her food.

"It was sooo bad," Alan cackled.

"How do I not know this story?" Mary's voice held a tone of annoyance.

"It happened before you came," Evelyn answered, "Ahmad can tell you the story."

"I'm not doing that."

"I will," Alan put down his drink.

"Yallahwy," Ahmad groaned.

"A young naive Ahmad entered the office stall," he started in a mysterious tone, "He'd used the toilet, doing normal human things just to discover... there was no bidet!" Mary gave a dramatic gasp.

"Ok, that's enough. I'll tell the story. I went to ask the manager if we could install a bidet and he said no."

"He didn't just say no," Gloria pointed out.

"Yeah, yeah, he made a whole scene saying how I think I'm better than them because I use a bidet and they use toilet paper."

"You went so red."

"Alan, it was embarrassing! But that doesn't matter because now there's a random bidet in the toilet of the 53rd floor of Kerzillion."

"And it's all thanks to our amazing manager, Dahlia," Gloria gave a happy sigh. They ate in contented silence.

Tristan was glad he'd apologized to their manager for "neglecting work". It was hard staying away from her for a whole week. It didn't matter that he felt terrible. He read the files and that was that.

"What are you doing, 801," he thought to himself, "Don't do this to yourself."

"Oh right, Evelyn when's your wedding?"

"I'm not sure yet. We're not in a rush."

"But you'll invite us, right?"

"Yeah of course."

She was lying, or at least not telling the full truth. Tristan could tell by how she avoided looking at Mary when she answered. He suddenly felt suffocated by their presence.

"I'm heading to the bathroom."

He wanted to talk to her. He wanted to see her. It was always fun when they were together. Tristan knew what love was; it wasn't this. Thus, he told himself it didn't matter that he enjoyed her company a little too much.

He took a deep breath before splashing some water on his face.  

"Draw a line," he looked at his reflection, "Make a boundary. Don't mess up."

"Tristan!" Gloria shouted as soon as he came back to their table, "We're calling Dahlia."

"What for?"

"Mary is saying that if I call her and start singing randomly, she'll get angry."

"I didn't say that," Mary huffed.

"But I know she could never get angry at me," Gloria struck an innocent pose before opening her phone.

"Wait," Evelyn stopped her, "What are you going to sing?"

"Never gonna give you up," Alan started.

"She's our boss," Ahmad grumbled.

"I'm not rickrolling her, Alan, stop being a child."

"You're prank-calling her!"

"Yeah," Mary added, "How's that not childish?"

"Stop shouting and choose a song," Evelyn nagged.

Gloria shushed them, phone in hand, "I already know what I'll sing."

The phone rang three times. Before the older woman could greet her, Gloria started to sing very loudly, "I used to rule the world! Seas would rise when I gave the word!"

Tristan could hear Dahlia calling out her assistant's name from the other side.

"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!" Alan joined in.

"Guys, that's enough," Evelyn tried to grab the phone. Gloria jumped out of reach, still singing. The group turned into chaos as both Alan and Mary tried to get the phone.

"We're going to get fired," Ahmad winced, "We're all going to get fired."

Gloria's hand, along with her phone, was suddenly within Tristan's reach. He snatched the phone before dashing away.

"Hey!"

"Go, Tristan! GO!"

"Gloria?" he heard Dahlia's voice.

"Afternoon, Dahlia," he smiled, "Sorry about that." 

"It's all right, Tristan."

"Remember what you said about feeling like you're in a daycare?" Tristan was surprised he could even remember such a small detail but he didn't pay it any mind, "You were right. I feel like a 10-year-old. We really are children."

"Yes," she gave a tired sigh, "If you're done, however, I'd like to go."

"Is everything fine?" he furrowed his eyebrows, his smile falling.

"Yes," she replied after a pause, "I'm at the vet, Taffy's... a little sick."

"Should I come?" he asked before thinking about it.

"No, I-" she sounded surprised, "That's unnecessary. She'll be fine."

"Okay, Dahlia," he said slowly, "Take care of yourself. I'm here if you need anything."

"I know, Tristan, I know," she whispered before ending the call. Tristan stood still for a moment. He expected the woman to brush his words off or give a simple goodbye, but she, as usual, surprised him with her response.

"Give me my phone, Tristan!" Gloria caught up to him. 

They took the phone before going back to the table, howling with laughter. Tristan joined them but in the back of his head, something remained. How were her differences so comfortably familiar? He wondered if he ever met her before. Perhaps that's how they clicked so beautifully.