Ken stepped into the café near his new apartment, scanning the space for a quiet corner. The seat by the window caught his eye-not entirely secluded, but tucked away just enough to give him a sense of privacy. He sank into the chair, his gaze drifting to the bustling street outside.
When the waiter approached, Ken ordered an iced Americano. As he waited for his drink, a low murmur of voices swelled into an argument. A quick glance revealed a group of teenagers at a corner table, laughing and talking loudly. Ken ignored it at first, convincing himself it was none of his business. But the noise escalated, piercing the relative calm of the café. Ken couldn't help but listen. The group's mocking tone grated on him, and as the exchange continued, he realized their target was the colleague of young waiter who had taken his order.
"Can you all just order so I can serve you and move on to the next table?" the waiter, whose name tag read Liam, said with strained patience.
The group snickered. "Alright, alright," one of them, a girl named Jenny, said mockingly. They finally placed their orders, and Liam disappeared into the back to prepare them.
A few minutes later, Liam returned, balancing a tray of drinks. As he approached the table, one of the teenagers stuck out their foot, tripping him. The tray clattered to the floor, sending drinks spilling across Liam's uniform and the tiles.
Gasps rippled through the café as heads turned toward the scene. Jenny and her friends, however, erupted into laughter.
"Look at him now," Jenny sneered. "Right where he belongs-on the floor, dirty like the rest of the faggots."
Liam froze, his face flushed with humiliation. Tears welled up in his eyes, and despite his best efforts, they spilled over.
"Aww, the faggot's crying," Jenny said, her voice dripping with mockery. She pulled out her phone, snapping photos of Liam as her friends joined in.
Ken's patience snapped. He stood abruptly, striding toward the commotion.
The scene before him made his chest tighten-Liam crumpled on the floor, covered in drinks, while the teenagers laughed and took pictures.
Without hesitation, Ken snatched the phone from Jenny's hand.
"Hey! What are you doing?" she shrieked, but Ken ignored her, methodically deleting every photo and video.
"Give that back!" the boy next to her demanded, grabbing for the phone.
Ken raised his head, his sharp gaze silencing the boy. "I'm deleting the photos you took of him. Got a problem with that?"
When the phone was empty, Ken tossed it back to Jenny. "You all need to get a life instead of bullying people. What's wrong with being gay? It's not a disease. It's not a crime. It's just love. But you wouldn't understand that, would you?" His voice was low but firm, each word slicing through the air.
He crossed his arms. "Now, unless you want me to call the cops, I suggest you get out of here. Now."
The group exchanged uneasy glances before scurrying out of the café, their bravado evaporated.
Ken turned to the silent crowd. "You're all as guilty as they are," he said, his voice carrying a note of disappointment. "You just watched while this happened. If you see someone being hurt, you step in. It's not that hard."
Finally, Ken knelt beside Liam. Gently, he tilted the waiter's chin up, his fingers warm against Liam's cool skin. Liam's tear-streaked cheeks and trembling lips made Ken's chest ache.
"You okay?" Ken asked softly.
Liam blinked, startled by Ken's unexpected kindness. "I-I'm fine," he stammered, though his voice betrayed his lingering hurt.
Ken helped Liam to his feet, steadying him with a firm grip. "Come on," he said, leading him toward the staff locker room. "Let's get you cleaned up."
Once inside, Ken handed Liam some tissues and leaned against the wall, watching as Liam wiped his face and uniform.
"Thank you," Liam murmured after a moment, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ken shrugged. "I just did what anyone should've done. No one deserves to be treated like that." He hesitated before adding, "My siblings are gay. If someone treated them like that..." He trailed off, shaking his head.
Liam looked up, his eyes wide with surprise. "You have gay siblings?"
Ken nodded. "Yeah. And I'd do the same for them in a heartbeat."
A small smile tugged at Liam's lips. "Well, thank you. Really."
Ken extended his hand. "I'm Ken, by the way. Ken Smith."
Liam shook his hand, his grip firm despite his earlier tears. "I'm Liam. It's nice to meet you, Ken."
Ken smiled, his dimples making an appearance. "Nice to meet you too, Liam. But I think I've had enough excitement for one day. I'll see you around."
As Ken left the locker room and the café, his thoughts kept drifting back to Liam- his soulful eyes, his soft smile, and the way his laughter, despite everything, had a warmth that lingered.
Back at the café, Liam felt the same. He replayed Ken's words, his actions, and his kind, piercing eyes. For the first time in a while, hope flickered in his chest.
Maybe, just maybe, they'd meet again.