Jest [Miniminter] *ON HOLD*

I.

6:49 pm

He wasn't particularly famous, but in Branchside Heights, he might as well have been.

The usual, conspicuous hush overwhelmed Bentley's as soon as he stalked inside, setting off the little brass bell that hung on the door frame. Except, as he took what had become his usual seat in the little corner booth by the window, the quiet seemed especially obvious; this was the third time that he had visited Bentley's that week.

Undeniably, Bentley's little bistro depended on the patronization of locals and regulars, but regulars to Bentley's were the working men and schoolkids that had lived in Branchside their entire lives, not famous YouTubers having an early-onset midlife crisis.

When I expressed this to Georgie, she smacked me in the shoulder.

"It is not a midlife crisis, Nova," she whispered harshly at me, stuffing her orders pad back into her apron. "He needs a break. And he deserves one too. He explained it in the video."

I propped my elbows on the counter and and cast my eyes toward his corner. He had his gaze trained on his mobile, per usual, and David drifted over to serve him.

I said, "You know I haven't watched that video."

"Well you should," Georgie told me. She tugged a cleaning rag out of her belt loop and began to wipe down the granite counter-top, bumping my elbows out of the way as she did. "Everyone in town's seen it. It's only courteous of you to watch it."

I snorted, shocked. "Courteous of me? Courteous of me to spend my time watching an eight minute video in which a British YouTuber attempts to justify why he won't be working for the next three months?--"

"Shh!" Georgie snapped, her little pale hands flashing up to clasp around my wrists. Wisps of her curly, ginger hair slipped free from the bun she'd knotted on the top of her head and her restless, brown eyes narrowed at me reproachfully. "Honestly, Nova, you know nothing about him. You don't have to be so rude."

"Georgie, you know nothing about him either," I whispered back. "You weren't even subscribed to him until he declared his little vacation and popped up here in the middle of nowhere."

"My brothers have watched his videos for years, actually."

"Yes, your bratty teenaged brothers who have a thing for hitting on me and taunting stray cats with Nerf guns. Doesn't that say a lot about him?"

I looked down at Georgie as she cast her eyes over at him, his attention still given solely to his phone. David had taken his order and was refilling the coffee cups of a couple seated a few booths over. She said, "He didn't teach them to be idiots. They just are."

Before I could say anything, Georgie turned back round to me and continued. "And you don't know him at all, anyway, Nova, I've just said this. It isn't fair of you to even try to judge him. If he's come all the way to Branchside, you know he needed this."

That was true. Branchside was arguably the smallest of small towns; the definition of the narrow line that exists between rural society and contemporary suburbia. In fact, with the new stranger's presence, Bentley's was busier than it had ever been before, with nearly thirteen of the fifteen tables full of chattering diners. I wasn't complaining; all of the foot-traffic was tip money in my pocket.

I was saving up to get the hell out of there.

"Should've stayed in London," I muttered. "There's nothing for him here."

"Maybe nothing is what he needs for a little while."

My gaze found his body once more. The orange light of the afternoon skies silhouetted him against the window. From the talk I'd heard in the town, which came mainly from the elementary kids up to those who attended my community college, he'd been a lot of places and done a lot of things. I'd come to know who his closest friends were and how popular he was and the uproar that had come from the announcement of his hiatus. Surely there was a lot on his mind. So maybe, for once, Georgie McAnderson was right about something. Maybe "nothing" was exactly what he needed.