Melbourne is bustling in the weekday lunchtime. Oliver keeps a neutral expression as he walks back to his company, Vietnamese iced coffee from Matcha & Milk in hand. They didn’t get to talk much—Robin’s working, and customers and his coworker whose name Oliver doesn’t remember are there—but Oliver is simply grateful to see his face.

Oliver sips his coffee. It’s so rich and sweet and creamy, more liquid dessert than caffeine shot.

“Ollie, finally, you’re back!”

In the lobby of the company building is a group of Oliver’s friends. They’re dressed in contrasting ways: Kyle is bright and colourful, and Nina wears even more black than Oliver. Anderson and Nina have guitar cases slung over their backs.

Oliver greets them. “Hey. I didn’t know you all had rehearsal today.”

“Nah, we were gonna meet with your boss,” Nina says, winking.

“But seriously,” Anderson says, his brows furrowing. “We haven’t seen you round for ages. Don’t tell me you quit drinking—”

“Or got a boyfriend,” Kyle smirks. “Or a fuck buddy—”

“There’s gonna be a queer night at the club this Friday,” Nina cuts in. “Some poetry slamming, some guitar jamming. You should come! Bring your guitar!”

Oliver freezes. “This Friday?” He clutches his coffee closer to his chest. At their nods, Oliver shakes his head. “I can’t make it. Plans.”

Kyle wolf-whistles. “I knew it!”

Oliver glares at him. Kyle’s fun, but he’s also annoying. “They’re just a friend, alright? I don’t even know if they’re gay. You know my gaydar sucks.”

Nina goes all worried. “Don’t fall for a straight boy, Ollie,” she warns.

They all collectively grimace.

“But seriously,” Oliver says, “Is there anything I can help you with?” He’s well aware that his iced coffee is warming. “There’s coffee in the tearoom.”

“Ignore Kyle,” Anderson says somberly. “But come on, hang out with us sometime.”

Kyle makes a face. “Ollie’s getting too hot-shot for us.”

Oliver rolls his eyes. “I’ll check my schedule, alright? We should grab lunch at a respectable time.”

He ends up escorting them up to see the production head manager before escaping back to his own office. His guitar is out, and the electric keyboard and computer are still on, waiting for him to return to his composing.

The coffee is now just slightly cold, but it’s just as sweet and creamy. Oliver’s lips turn up as he takes another sip and remembers the easy Robin had made, all precision and neatness. He sets down the half drunk coffee on top of some papers, and gets back to work, feeling very mischievous about the lyrics across the computer screen.