Elliot

3 - A coffee machine

With just two days until school started, Elliot felt a mix of excitement and nerves buzzing in his chest. He stepped outside to throw out some trash, the fresh air hitting him like a welcome embrace. The sun was shining brightly, and the streets were alive with the sounds of the city waking up.

As he approached the dumpster, he noticed Nate walking toward his car, his movements deliberate and efficient. Elliot paused for a moment, taking in the sight of the older brother. Nate had always struck him as somewhat mysterious, an enigma wrapped in a casual hoodie and jeans. Their previous encounters had been brief—just a nod of acknowledgment as they passed in the hall or the occasional shared elevator ride—but Nate rarely spoke, his eyes often focused elsewhere, as if he didn't want anything to do with him.

He was so different from Alec, who wore his heart on his sleeve and was quick to engage in conversation. Where Alec radiated warmth and charm, Nate had an air of quiet intensity that both intrigued and intimidated Elliot. He took a breath, feeling a little bold in the sunlight. He'd never been one to shy away from a challenge, and he figured a simple greeting couldn't hurt. As Nate approached his car, Elliot called out, "Hey, Nate!"

Nate paused mid-step, turning slightly toward him. His blue eyes narrowed, and for a brief moment, Elliot thought he might just walk past. But then Nate offered a small nod, his lips curving into what could almost be called a smile. "Hey."

"Heading to work?" Elliot asked, trying to keep the conversation going despite the other man's quiet demeanor.

"Yeah," Nate replied shortly, his gaze flicking to the car he was about to get into. There was something about his tone that suggested he was ready to leave the conversation.

"Do you like it?" Elliot pressed, wanting to know more. "Your job, I mean?"

Nate hesitated, then shrugged. "It's alright." His response was noncommittal, and Elliot couldn't help but feel the weight of the silence between them.

Elliot cleared his throat, searching for a topic that might spark some interest. "Alec mentioned you're doing coding. That sounds really cool."

For the first time, Nate's expression shifted slightly. There was a flicker of interest in his eyes, but it was quickly masked by his usual stoicism. "What else did he tell you?"

"Oh, not much. I did some coding in Highschool. It's much like dancing, isn't it?" Elliot said, surprising even himself with the connection. "Finding the right moves to tell a story, figuring out how to make everything fit together."

Nate's brow furrowed slightly, as if the idea had struck a chord. "Yeah, I guess. I can see that." Elliot felt a small victory at the moment of connection, even if it was brief. "I'm starting at TMI soon," he said, trying to keep the conversation alive. "The Movement Institute."

Nate regarded him for a moment, and Elliot could almost see the gears turning in his mind. "Cool," he said at last, a hint of something softer in his voice. Just then, the sound of a car horn pulled Nate's attention. He glanced over his shoulder. "I have to go," he said, his tone without emotion.

"Have a great day!" Elliot called as Nate climbed into his car, the door shutting with a definitive click.

As Nate drove off, Elliot let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The encounter had been brief, but it felt like a step in the right direction. If nothing else, he had a tiny glimpse into the world of Nate, and maybe, just maybe, there was more beneath that mysterious exterior. 

Elliot spent the rest of the day shopping, eager to make his new apartment feel more like home. He picked out a sleek coffee machine, imagining the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air in the mornings. He also grabbed some plants that would add a touch of life to his space, storage containers to keep everything organized, and even a new jacket that caught his eye—a soft pink that perfectly matched his very blond, short curls. As he stood in front of the mirror in the store, he couldn't help but smile at how the color brought out the brightness in his hair. And, of course, he couldn't forget some new dance clothes to kick off his time at TMI in style.

After loading his purchases into the trunk of his car, Elliot made his way back to the apartment complex. As he parked in his usual spot, he noticed Nate's car was back, the sleek black sedan glimmering under the afternoon sun. Elliot's heart raced a little at the thought of seeing him again, even though their last interaction had been brief and somewhat stilted. He couldn't help but wonder who'd been in the car waiting for Nate this morning. Someone had honked that horn, and Elliot was too curious for his own good. 

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if he should try to say hello or just slip inside without drawing attention to himself. A flicker of self-consciousness crept in as he recalled the colorful outfit he was wearing—bright patterned tights paired with a light, flowy shirt that danced with every step he took. He had even added a hint of lip gloss, a subtle touch that accentuated his features but felt almost extravagant in comparison to Nate's more subdued style. What would Nate think of him? Elliot imagined the taller brother's reaction—those piercing blue eyes glancing over him, taking in the vibrant colors and the way he expressed himself through fashion. Would he see Elliot as too flamboyant, too... much? The thought made his stomach flutter with uncertainty, but there was also a spark of determination in him—a sense that he wanted to break through Nate's quiet demeanor and learn more about the neighbour who intrigued him so.

Taking a deep breath, Elliot gathered his shopping bags and walked toward the entrance. As he approached, he spotted Nate standing by his car, fiddling with his phone. The stark contrast between them struck Elliot again: Nate was dressed in a simple black hoodie and dark jeans, his style effortlessly understated and practical. There was something undeniably cool about it, and Elliot felt a pang of envy for how effortlessly Nate pulled it off.

"Hey, Nate!" Elliot called out, his voice echoing slightly in the parking lot.

Nate looked up, surprise flickering across his features as he paused mid-text. "Hey," he replied, his voice low and steady.

"Looks like you're back from work," Elliot said, trying to keep the conversation flowing, though he felt acutely aware of the differences between them.

"Yeah," Nate replied shortly, his gaze flicking to the ground, then back to Elliot. The air felt thick with unspoken words, and Elliot couldn't help but wonder what was going on behind that calm exterior.

"Do you like it?" Elliot pressed, wanting to know more. "Your job, I mean?"

Nate shrugged, his expression inscrutable. "It's alright."

Elliot could sense the distance between them and felt a rush of vulnerability. "I just got back from shopping. I finally got a coffee machine!" He held up one of the bags, willing himself to sound enthusiastic despite the self-doubt creeping in.

"Nice," Nate said, his eyes flicking from the bag to Elliot's face, studying him for a moment longer than usual.

Elliot shifted his weight, feeling the brightness of his clothes draw attention in a way that made him anxious. "I mean, I had to get something, right? You know, for all the early mornings." He laughed lightly, hoping to ease the tension. "What about you? Do you drink coffee?"

"Not really." Nate replied, his tone still neutral. 

"Well, we all have our different choice of toxins," Elliot joked, eager to bridge the gap between them. "I just got some new dance clothes too." Nate regarded him for a moment, and Elliot could almost see the gears turning in his mind. "Oh, and let me know if the music is bothering you! I'm so used to it I forget how loud it can be," he added, trying to keep the conversation lively despite his nerves.

Nate shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention to his phone, "I'm not bothered by it."

"Cool. Well... I'm off. See you later," Elliot cheered, gathering all of his shopping bags in his arms, a burst of enthusiasm washing over him. With a wave, he turned and walked toward the building, a bounce in his step as he replayed the brief exchange in his mind.

As he climbed the steps, the weight of his bags felt lighter than before, lifted by the small victory of their conversation. Elliot couldn't help but smile, this had been a great day.