Cardigans, Holes, Wholes and Oh Boy...

I wish the void would just disappear, you know? Some people come into your life and they become such a big part of you, whether you wanted it or not. It's like little by little they carve their existence into your being.

But what do you do when they leave?

It's like when the day is chilly and you are wearing a delicate, thin cardigan that keeps you just warm enough. Then, you get used to it to the point that you forget that you are wearing it. A few minutes later, you start feeling a bit too warm, a faint layer of perspiration materializes at the nape of your neck, and you decide to take it off. At that moment, the chilly air of an undecided spring day hits you strongly, and you realize that you needed the cardigan more than you thought so. And you just put it back on, and everything is okay again.

They-the characters-were my cardigan.

The difference is that I can't bring them back. So I just have to endure the chilly air that laces around my soul.

I wish I could be over them, you know? Like, move on. And I think I have moved on in so many ways. I'm driving my dad's car, and I'm not freaking out. I'm going to university. I'm dealing...or trying to deal with Lukah. I'm proud of myself. But I still feel that coldness creeping up at the sides of my heart.

While my friends, the characters, were here I felt whole, even when I was aware of the many things I was lacking in my life. Now that they have been gone for a month and a half...I still feel the hole they left. There's this void in my chest, this emptiness almost palpable that pulls me down, as if it would weigh a ton but is made of thin air.

Holes have two possible endings. One, they progressively close down until they stop existing, or maybe they leave a small mark to remind you that they were there. Two, the hole continues to widen its boundaries, eating everything that is around them until you stop existing because you become part of it. I think the latter is what is happening to me. I keep living and doing stuff, but the hole is eating me alive.

Anyway, Never mind my depressive mood-or rather depressive state. In short, I just miss them. I wish I could see them again and free them from those prisons.

My tornado of emotions comes to a sudden halt when I find a spacious spot to park my car, right next to the StarDust Café.

The busy streets of Toronto take no notice of the small herd of workers that are refurbishing the StarDust Cafe. Painters, builders, all of them focused on different tasks and areas of the small café. I close the door of my car, and a messy orchestra of all the annoying sounds in the world surrounds me.

The basement was the only thing that caught fire, but they took the opportunity to refurbish the whole place. They...are Joe and Dean. Yeah, the evil twin spent all his savings and now he owns the coffee shop with Joe, and they are transforming it into a coffee/bar shop.

My dad's car closes behind me and I stride towards the Café or bar-whatever it is becoming now. Two guys carrying a long, wooden ladder walk by me, and I speed up to open the door for them, my ponytail swinging from one side to the other as I rush to help them.

"Thanks a bunch." One of the workers nods his head at me as they pass by.

"Any time." I follow them in. My eyes look around me, and I swallow hard. Long gone is the vintage coffee shop that I once met. After the fire, Dean joined Joe in the business, and they decided to give a new identity to the café. Now the basement is becoming a new section of the bar/café. I went down there only once, right after the fire...it hurt too much looking at the hollowness of a place that once was filled with stories-and people. I haven't been there ever since then. I don't know if I'll survive seeing the place filled with real people, drinking, and having fun...while the books are just gone.

I'm just glad they are still experiencing the changes. That's a happy ending to me, right? At least, I'm content with that. But, hell no, it will never be enough. They deserve freedom. And as much as I love that people write changes for them, I wish they would write the changes themselves.

"Careful!" Dean shouts, driving me to a blunt stop. The tip of my black Vans bumps into something. My hands hover at my sides to keep my balance. I look down and I find two pots of turquoise paint on the floor.

"That was close," I say, catching my breath, my hands clutching my chest.

"Guys," Dean beckons one of the workers who is currently sweeping the floor. "Please, take this stuff to the storage room. We don't want the ladies falling for us before even opening the place." He waves his hand at me from behind the counter. Then, he busies himself putting cups and glasses of different sizes in their places.

"I can't believe you own this place with Joe now," I exclaim as I take a seat on the barstool. "And I love the turquoise walls." My eyes keep scanning the whole place while my hands spread on the cold, wooden surface of the counter before me.

"Yeah?" he scrunches up his nose while placing a rag over his shoulder. "They look kind of empty."

"I didn't realize." I dismiss his self-criticism when I spot the coffee machine. "Oh God, I love the smell of coffee." I chime, inhaling deeply. "Is this working?" My eyes explore the device.

"Here." He hands me a steamy cup filled with creamy coffee. Random, white and brown swirls decorate the surface of the small, white cup.

"This was ready for me?" I smile widely.

"Yeah, kind of. I made some coffee early for the guys working here." He leans over, his elbows and forearms stretching over the counter.

"I see." I sip the caffeine into my system. "So, are your parents still mad at you for buying this place?" I ask.

"Umm. Yes." He straightens up. "Apparently, selling my motorcycle and buying half of this place was not what was expected of me."

"Expectation is a big word..." I trail as my fingers curl around the warm cup.

"Well, it's their expectations I didn't fulfill; mine are perfectly okay."

"Gosh." I gulp down too quickly, burning my throat in the process. "I wish I was like you. My expectations are so high, no wonder I get disappointed every time." I chuckle, and he looks down.

"Expectation is the root of all heartache, Sunset. I simply stopped expecting things from everyone." He shrugs his lips downwards.

"How do you do that?" I ask. I really need advice on this.

"I simply don't care about the world...in general."

I laugh, tipping my head backward. "You remind me so much of Hardin," I blurt out, wishing I hadn't said that. "I just cannot not care. Good for you though." I acknowledge him with my cup.

"It takes practice, believe me." He leans over the counter again, looking at one side and the other, and then to me. "And it will always bother me a tiny bit that my parents have always preferred Lukah, no matter how many times he screwed up."

"Well, you're a big boy, you can make your own decisions, right?" I ask, steering off the Lukah-topic.

"Exactly. Besides, I'm just tired of working at the car dealership with dad and Lukah. I never get a break from family, you know? I need independence, at least until I graduate."

"I thought the only thing you loved in the world was that bike, look at you growing up." I frown at him.

He tsks, tilting his head briefly to his right. "I told you Sunset, I only care about me. The world can f*ck itself for all I care."

Well, that's true. I still remember that day when he said 'she's not even hot to tempt me'.

"You're hopeless." I shake my head. I drink some more coffee, and a long silence stretches between us. "What does it look like...you know...downstairs?" I swallow thickly when I remember the emptiness that filled the room the last time I saw it. The coldness keeps spreading its boundaries, munching the skirts of my soul.

"Oh...the library?" He clears his throat, his grey eyes looking down.

"Yep." I take another sip, swallowing my urge to cry.

"It's still a work in process, but we will have sofas and tables of different heights and sizes-"

"I'm getting Friends' vibes," I joke.

"It kind of looks like Central Perk café, minus the books."

We lock eyes at the mention of books, and I can't stop the cold tear that escapes my eye. I guess my eyes were already heavy with unshed tears-it feels like that lately.

His hand lands on mine, and I give him a lop-sided smile. "It's okay, I just miss them a lot."

"Sunset, I need to-. There's something I should tell you now." He clutches his hand around mine. "I-,"

"Hi." Lukah takes a seat next to me.

When did he get here? How long has he been here?

His eyes fix on our overlapped hands. Dean swiftly withdraws it from mine, and I clear my throat, shuffling in my spot.

It's been two weeks since our kiss and we have never talked about it. I have achieved a master skill to avoid my brother's friends.

"Hi," I utter plainly, my eyes rolling ever-so-slightly to the other side of where he is. My legs crossed.

"Any alcoholic drinks here?" He taps the wooden counter with two of his fingers.

"Three. P.M.," I mutter stoically and drink some more coffee. I can't believe he's drinking, that's so out of character for him.

"Right." Dean turns around and prepares his drink. A few seconds later, he slides a small glass to him. "I'm-, I, I'll be working downstairs." He avoids looking at us and leaves.

"You still not dating him?" Lukah queries, his eyes set blankly on the hundreds of bottles in front of us.

I huff. "No. Lukah, he doesn't date. He doesn't care about anyone in the world but himself."

He downs the drink in one gulp. A big gasp follows when he ends it. "Just making sure," he adds and turns to look at me. "Can we talk?"

"No," I state.

I feel the stool moving, and my hands clutch his forearms to steady myself. "You're gonna make me fall!" He literally just dragged me closer to him. My arms release him when I regain my balance.

"What if..." He looks around the bar, and then his blazing green eyes set on mine. "What if I do like you and I want to date you?"

"Are you drunk?"

"Never been soberer in my entire life," he states."So, tell me, what if that's the case?"

"What makes you think I wanna date you?" I look at him pointedly.

He chuckles, and a long pause follows. "Your heartbeat."

"Excuse me?"

"Right here, see?" The pad of his fingers presses lightly against the vein on the left side of my throat. "I make you nervous."

"I- No, I-, I have palpitations all of the time because of my anxiety. How can you know it's about you?"

"Because my heartbeat is exactly the same." He grabs my hand and places it on his own neck.

"My brother-"

"We can tell your brother. I would even talk to your dad."

"What made you change your mind?" I ask, my eyes lingering on his lips for a second too long.

"I kissed you."

"Yeah, so?"

"Now I want more," he adds, his whole palm spreading around the arch of my neck. "And..." he trails, ruffling the back of his head, "I think we can...we can do this. We can try, right?" He leans on, and I think I'm leaning on too-that or the floor is tilting.

"I-, Lukah-"

"I heard the place was open for family and friends?" Raiden stands at the entrance of the café. The door closed behind him.

I instantly back away from Lukah when I see my brother's gaze set on us from afar. Lukah also returns to his original position, away from me.

Crap.

He throws me a sideways look, but I fix my eyes on my coffee mug, and his gaze swiftly trains on his drink. I feel like such a traitor.

"Hi," he greets us, placing one arm around me and the other one around Lukah. "Why so serious?" he asks.

Author's note

* Please Read *

Hi! I'm deeply sorry for the long wait and the series of cliff hangers that will follow these. I'm terribly sorry. Please, love me. 😁 In the end it will be worth it, I promise.

I just want to explain briefly that I will post, throughout this first week of December, one chapter a day of the ending of Book Boyfriends.

It's five chapters (Ch. 36, 37, 38, 39, 40), and the epilogue. And as usual I have ready the Q&A section, favorite comments and some other surprises 😏.

I'm telling you this because I don't want the actual end to come to you as a surprise.

Love you all so much! Thanks for supporting me and this story. I hope that made sense. 🤔

Love, love, love,

Nise.