Eli and Jin arrived at the therapist office
The therapist's office was tucked away on a quiet side street, nestled between a faded laundromat and a closed herbal medicine shop. The building itself was old but cared for red bricks stained slightly by time. A small wooden sign above the door read Dr. Mei Yang, Licensed Therapist in neat gold lettering, worn at the edges.
There was no flashy logo, no neon welcome sign, just a simple glass door with frosted windows that made it hard to see inside. A metal bench rested beneath the window. It wasn't fancy. But it felt like a place where things could be said without the world listening.
The waiting room was too clean. Too quiet. The kind of place where even breathing felt like a disruption.
Eli shifted in his chair, the fake leather squeaking beneath him. Across from him, Jin sat rigid, his arms crossed and his hood pulled up over his head. He hadn't said a word since they got off the scooter.
"This place looks like a dentist's office," Eli muttered, trying to lighten the mood.
Jin didn't respond. Just kept staring at the bland motivational poster on the wall: 'Healing takes time.'
Eli cleared his throat. "She's supposed to be nice. Dr. Yang. I checked her reviews."
Jin finally looked at him, a face void of any emotion. "You really think talking to a stranger is gonna fix anything?"
Eli sighed. "No. I don't think it'll fix it. But maybe it helps a little. Makes the weight less heavy."
Jin looked away again. "Whatever."
A receptionist called out, "Jin? Dr. Yang will see you now."
Jin didn't move.
Eli nudged him gently. "You don't have to tell her everything. Just start somewhere."
Still nothing.
"Want me to come in with you?"
That got a reaction. A quick headshake, sharp and definite. "No."
"Okay," Eli said quietly. "I'll be right here."
Jin stood, walked toward the door, then paused. "If I don't like her then we leave."
Eli nodded. "Deal."
Forty-five minutes later, the door opened and Jin stepped back out. He didn't look different—still guarded, still quiet, but his eyes seemed to have softened abit
Eli stood. "So…?"
Jin shrugged. "She didn't suck."
"I will take that as a good review ," Eli grinned.
Jin cracked the faintest smirk, then tucked it away quickly.
"She said I don't have to come back if I don't want to."
Eli raised an eyebrow. "Do you want to?"
A beat.
"Maybe."
Eli didn't push. Just nodded and handed Jin his helmet. "Then we'll go again next week."
As they stepped into the late afternoon sun, Jin walked a little closer to Eli than before. Not touching but not drifting away either.
On their way home Eli asked JIn "what do you think about going to school. Not your old school a new one that will help you signify a fresh start"
Jin took a while before replying " i don't think i am ready for that yet i am sorry"
"No worries, you can take your time" Eli replied
------------------------------------------------
After arriving at the apartment
Jin kicked off his shoes silently, backpack slipping from his shoulder onto the floor with a thud.
"The Wi-Fi password's EliIsAGenius capital E, no spaces just in case you need it," Eli said, while removing his boots.
Jin glanced at him, one brow raised. "Seriously?"
Eli shrugged, smiling. "Hey, confidence is key."
"Right." Jin muttered, but the corner of his mouth twitched
Eli headed into the tiny bedroom where his delivery uniform hung, wrinkled and worn. As he buttoned it up, he opened the app on his phone, checking for incoming orders. A few popped up already late-night runs for noodles, cigarettes, and cheap beer.
Before he stepped out, he poked his head back into the living room. Jin was on the couch, scrolling through something on his old phone..
"I'll be back in a couple hours," Eli said. "There's leftover rice in the fridge if you get hungry."
Jin didn't look up. "Be safe."
Eli paused.
"You too," he replied.
Then he slipped out the door.
—---------------------------------
During his delivery runs an order popped up at around 10 pm
1 pack of cigarettes. 2 tall cans of Golden Dragon beer.
Address: An upscale apartment complex in the northern district.
Delivery notes: "Please be discreet. Don't ring the door bell. Text when outside."
Eli rolled his eyes. Here we go.
When he arrived, he parked his scooter quietly and followed the instructions, texting:
\[Here. In front of 302A.]
A few moments later, the door opened just a crack, and a balding middle aged man in a silk bathrobe peeked out, glancing up and down the hallway like he had something to hide.
"You Eli?" the man whispered.
"That's what it says on my jacket."
"Good. Good." He opened the door just enough to snatch the bag from Eli's hand. "Perfect. You're a lifesaver."
Then, before Eli could respond, a second voice rang out from deeper inside the apartment.
"Honey, who was at the door?"
The man flinched like he'd been shot. "Just uh wrong delivery!"
Footsteps.
Eli took a step back.
The door opened wider and there stood a middle age woman in pajamas, arms folded, eyebrows raised. She looked from Eli to her husband to the plastic bag now dangling awkwardly behind his back.
"You ordered cigarettes and beer?" she said, voice cold and sharp.
The man stammered. "No! I—I was just helping—this guy—he dropped it and I was returning—"
Eli gave a small, apologetic nod. "It's all paid for. Contactless, like requested."
The woman narrowed her eyes. "So you were being discreet, huh?"
The man deflated like a punctured balloon. "I just wanted to relax a little…"
She snatched the bag from his hand, turned, and walked back into the apartment.
"Enjoy the couch," she called over her shoulder.
The man winced and looked at Eli with the tired sigh of a man who'd lost the war before it began. "Thanks anyway."
Eli gave him a thumbs up and headed back toward the elevator.
"Should've just ordered soda, man."