It's been a year since Clay, otherwise known as Porkchop, planned the graduation event in Newport Beach. The event where a handsome Tyler Hamilton caught Clay off guard by kissing him. Clay, up until that day, had never kissed a boy before.
At 24 ye...
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WAKING up with absolutely nothing to do was the best thing. And waking up in a brand fucking new place in a brand fucking new apartment that was boujee as shit was also the best thing, as I'd just found out.
When I finally pulled myself out of bed, it was almost noon. Good thing I wasn't groggy in the least bit. I was well-rested from yesterday's flight and ready to get out of the apartment and explore Atlanta. I mean, I very well could have spent the entire day chilling in the apartment because it was so fucking dope, but I wanted to walk around and explore. I wanted to get some fucking coffee and feel fully alive again.
So I forced myself to take a quick shower to wash off the gross feeling of travelling in a plane before I got dressed and headed out.
Before I passed out last night I had scrolled through Yelp for hours, compiling lists of restaurants, cafés, parks, and all of "the best" Atlanta attractions. I already opened up Google Maps and entered one of the cafés I added: Downtown Brew. It was literally only a 15-minute walk and while there were closer ones, it looked like the best one. The menu had my exact favorite order, which was a London fog — literally fucking heaven in a cup, and I always asked for an extra pump of lavender — and a huge assortment of pastries and breakfast sandwiches. I was craving a lemon poppyseed scone.
Charlotte at the front desk smiled and waved at me as I left, which already made me feel like I was kind of at home.
I stepped outside into the Atlanta heat and everything was immediately foreign and new. The streets weren't particularly crowded as I started my trek towards the café. The air was hot and fairly humid on my skin and I was glad that I'd come prepared, wearing a short-sleeve white shirt to keep me from heating up like a fucking baked potato in the oven.
Sidewalks were paved with mostly red brick as I walked through the city, passing by all of the tallest business buildings, hotels, and apartments, as well as all of the older looking buildings that brought a historic feeling to the city. Buildings that were designed to look modern for the times mixed with buildings so random and adorable that even though they didn't exactly go together in their styles, they fit perfectly side by side, making the city as beautiful as it was.
I checked my phone and saw a few texts from Alex and Jesse. There were a few texts from some of my UCLA teammates wishing me luck with my move. I ignored the texts for now and focused on paying attention to the route on Google Maps taking me to the café. I had my earbuds in, The Weeknd's After Hours album on shuffle. I had to skip "Repeat After Me" unless I wanted to cry, but I was pretty fucking positive that I didn't want to cry my eyes out in the middle of downtown Atlanta.
It took just over 15 minutes – since I had been walking pretty slowly– and I got to the café. A blue-painted brick exterior and a sign out front with a specialty drink of the day (today's was a lavender honey latté) with the doors wide open. Welcoming.
