Begin

I

It's hard to stop one's thought when they're alone. When there are no distractions around, the warm is making your shirt wet from sweating, and even the music feels like just a mumbling in the distance. You can't increase the volume of music when you're working at a pub, however empty it may be with the closing time approaching and a nearly empty street outside.

The fan he kept on the counter was doing little to make the heat more bearable, but he still missed it the moment the bell rang signaling a new costumer and he had to push it away from his face, opening his eyes.

Kaveh felt like he had just started breathing properly the moment he layed his eyes on the guy who entered the door. The moment stretched while he heard his heartbeat fill his eardrums, drowning the music and the rumbling of the old fan.

As their eyes met, his breath got caught in his throat, and he had to force himself to swallow as the stranger sat down near a window, breaking eye contact as fast as it started.

Kaveh panicked for a second, taking deep breaths and realizing that he was still working. Mustering the courage and praying not to make a bad first impression on the customer, he walked towards him, taking his order, and swiftly going back to hiding behind the counter. Having something physical between them: that was a good idea. Going to the kitchen to prepare the food, he couldn't stop thinking of his face, already impressed in his mind, and the silver of his hair, tainted by the multicolor lights of the pub, appeared every time he closed his eyes.

Even after delivering the food on the table, he had to go back to hiding, checking up on him once in a while just to feel that surge of emotions again. To check if he still felt it. If he wasn't hallucinating. Or having a heart attack.

___

When the customer left, Kaveh was sure he wouldn't see him again. It was a once in a lifetime interaction that wouldn't lead to anything. That's what he thought until the next day, when he saw him again.

He was so surprised that he almost dropped the glass he was cleaning. He stared at him for a few seconds, blood rushing to his face. He greeted him, trying to act normal and control his expression instead of smiling like his lips were set in doing.

He became better at it after a few days. He came every day, at the same time, late at night. And Kaveh took comfort in watching him from afar, behind the safety of the counter. Never speaking to him unless necessary, and only in a professional tone. Something beautiful in his existence of greasy food, dirty floors, and neon lights.

___

Kaveh closed the pub looking out that night. He didn't even notice the moment the stranger became a routine. But he certainly felt uneasy when the entire night the pub remained empty. That also meant low income that day. It was one person, but when it's hard to even pay rent, one person might be all it takes.

He only had to walk upstairs to reach the room he sometimes called his apartment, but he felt so restless that day that he preferred going out in the street. Not too far away, just enough for the street lights to wash away his worries.

He stared at the front of the shop, the only lights coming from outside, the grey shutters closed halfway casting gloomy shadows on the already dark tables inside, covering the red and yellows on the chairs and the walls. Making the whole place look even sadder than usual. His reflection stared at him from a pond in front of the building: a mix of dark circles, sunken cheeks and silky blonde hair, the only thing about himself that he took care about enough.

He took a deep breath, readying himself to enter, when he saw him: wobbling on the streets, he could barely walk, the silver hair darkened by water (at least he hoped that's what it was). Once again, the usually quiet heartbeat became loud in Kaveh's ears, and he only realized what was actually happening when he felt the weight of the stranger on him. The smell of alcohol hit him, so strong he gagged.

"Kaveh"

He froze. He looked down, certain that he must have imagined it. But then he repeated it. That wasn't a common name. How did he know it? The pub place uniform didn't have a name tag, and he surely never said it aloud.

"How do you know my name?" He asked, confused.

The stranger chuckled, leaning more onto him.

"Never mind, let's take you inside, first." He said, lifting him by one arm and pulling him towards the side door that took him to his apartment. He ignored the alarm bells ringing in his head, telling him not to take a stranger in his house.

It took way too much time, and Kaveh felt absolutely wretched by the time he entered the house and let go of the stranger on the mattress he used both as a couch and a bed. He looked at the spots of humidity on the ceiling and the walls, suddenly worried about his crush seeing the state of his room. Then he realized that was a dumb thought: he was just a costumer.

Although he seemed to know him. Kaveh glanced down, weary. But the stranger was now sleeping soundly and didn't seem like an actual danger. Sighing, he sat down near him, taking off his shoes. He thought about taking off the clothes, too, but he blushed at the thought. It would've felt like he was taking advantage of him, however smelly they might've been. At least there was no vomit.

"How do you know my name?" He asked again, not really expecting an answer.

The stranger turned around to face him, putting a hand on Kaveh's thigh to leverage himself up towards his face. For a split second, Kaveh thought he was going to kiss him, but instead, the stranger chuckled and whispered to his hear: "How could I not know you? You're the most famous guy in our Uni."

Kaveh stared blankly at him. He had already graduated from university. Did he go to his same university? He would've noticed someone so handsome. At least recognize him. But that also meant that the stranger had known him all that time. Since the first time they saw each other, probably. He wasn't entirely a stranger. Why didn't he say anything? Did he want to spare him the embarrassment of graduating with the top grades in architecture and ending up working in a pub? Or did he just not care about him at all?

By the time Kaveh woke up from his thoughts, the stranger was peacefully sleeping, his head on Kaveh's lap. He sighed, getting up as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up again, and went in the bathroom to take a quick shower and change his clothes.

When he came back, he was faced with the hard decision of where to sleep. His bed was occupied, and he didn't want to sleep near that guy. He was still confused about how he felt about him. He liked him, but he couldn't trust him, and moreover he didn't know anything about him. And now Kaveh found out he knew about him all along. He felt betrayed, but, at the same time, logic was telling him that the stranger didn't do anything wrong. He never lied to him. Damn, they barely even talked at all, and Kaveh was pretty sure ordering food didn't count.

In the end, he opted for a folded blanket on the floor. As he fell asleep, the last thing he saw was silver hair.