The café restroom reeked of thick cigarette smoke. A man leaned against the tiled wall, exhaling slow, deliberate smoke rings as he studied his own reflection in the mirror with detached amusement.
An icy aura clung to him, sharpened by three years of distance. His stern demeanor mirrored the man facing him—both men now strangers to laughter.
"Big Brother, what’s so urgent you dragged me here?"
Elvis's tone was flippant, but his eyes burned with intensity. The faucet gushed water beside them, its noise doing nothing to disrupt the tension.
"Surprisingly, your proposal didn’t make me want to vomit."
The words dripped with sarcasm. Elvis responded with a wry smile, crushing his cigarette into the ashtray before tossing it away.
Carlos shoved his hands into his pockets, inhaling sharply
