Run: 2026-02-17-01KHMMFDNJFX2M0XFKN5T0KZYV

The neon green sign of The Raven's Nest cast an ethereal glow through the evening drizzle, transforming ordinary raindrops into emerald tears. Aurora paused beneath the awning, shaking water from her black hair. The last delivery of the night was done, and she wanted nothing more than to trudge upstairs to her flat, but something about the bar's warmth drew her in. Maybe it was the way the old maps on the walls seemed to glow in the ambient light, or perhaps it was simply that she wasn't quite ready to face another night alone with her thoughts. She pushed through the heavy wooden door, the familiar creak a comfort after six months of calling this place home. The usual Thursday crowd was thin - a couple of suits unwinding after work, a group of art students huddled in the corner booth, and a solitary figure at the bar who made Aurora's heart skip a beat. Evan. Her fingers instinctively went to the crescent scar on her left wrist, a nervous habit she'd developed over the years. But no - not Evan. As the man turned to signal Silas for another drink, she realized her mistake. It was James, her best friend from university, though she hardly recognized him at first. Gone was the rakish student with the permanent five o'clock shadow and messy hair. In his place sat someone altogether more polished, more contained. "Rory?" His voice carried across the bar, and the nickname hit her like a physical thing. No one here called her that - she was Aurora to Silas, Carter to the regulars, Laila to the restaurant customers. Silas looked up from where he was polishing glasses, his hazel eyes sharp with concern. She gave him a small nod, and his shoulders relaxed, though he kept himself positioned where he could watch their interaction. "James," she said, sliding onto the stool next to him. "You're about the last person I expected to see in Soho." "Likewise." He studied her face with the same intensity he used to reserve for particularly challenging legal texts. "Last I heard, you were still in Cardiff, finishing your law degree." The words hung between them like smoke. Aurora signaled Silas, who limped over with his characteristic unhurried grace. "The usual, Carter?" "Please." James watched the exchange with interest. "You're a regular here?" "You could say that." She accepted the gin and tonic from Silas, who withdrew to the other end of the bar, close enough to intervene if needed, far enough to give them privacy. "I live upstairs, actually." "Upstairs?" James blinked. "But what about-" He stopped himself, took a sip of what looked like expensive scotch. "Sorry. Not my business anymore, is it?" Aurora ran a finger through the condensation on her glass. "No, it's not." The words came out sharper than she intended, and she saw him flinch. "I'm sorry. That wasn't fair." "Wasn't it?" James turned to face her fully. The careful architecture of his suit couldn't quite hide the way his shoulders slumped. "I should have been there, Rory. When everything went sideways with Evan, I should have-" "Stop." She held up a hand. "We both know you were neck-deep in your training contract. And anyway, I wouldn't have listened." "Still." He gestured to Silas for another drink. "Best friend since first year, and I couldn't even return your calls. Christ, I was such a-" "Self-important prick?" The ghost of their old banter made them both smile, though it felt different now, weighted with everything that had come after. "I was going to say 'focused on the wrong things,' but yours works too." He loosened his tie, and for a moment she could see the old James underneath the corporate lawyer exterior. "You look good, Rory. Happy, maybe?" "Getting there." She watched Silas arrange bottles with methodical precision, his silver signet ring catching the light. "It's different here. Peaceful, in its way." "Different from law, you mean?" "Different from everything." She turned to face him. "I deliver Chinese food now, if you can believe it. Work at the Golden Empress around the corner." His eyebrows shot up, but to his credit, he didn't immediately launch into a lecture about wasted potential. The old James would have. "Are you writing again?" The question caught her off guard. She hadn't thought about her half-finished novels in ages, those stories she used to tap out on her laptop during lectures. "Sometimes. How did you remember that?" "Remember?" He laughed, but it wasn't entirely happy. "I still have that story you wrote about the detective who could talk to ghosts. Keep it in my desk drawer at work. Read it sometimes, when I need to remember there's more to life than billable hours." Aurora felt something shift in her chest, a loosening of a knot she hadn't realized was there. "James..." "I miss you, Rory. Miss who we were. Miss who we were supposed to become." He stared into his scotch as if it held answers. "Sometimes I wonder if we made the right choices." "We made the only choices we could at the time." She watched one of the old maps on the wall flutter in the draft from the door. "Maybe that's all anyone can do." They sat in silence for a while, letting the soft jazz from the speakers fill the space between them. Outside, the rain had stopped, leaving the streets glossy under the streetlights. Finally, James pulled out his wallet and placed a business card on the bar between them. "My new number," he said. "If you ever want to catch up properly. No pressure, no expectations. Just... don't be a stranger?" Aurora picked up the card, ran her thumb over the embossed letters. "I won't if you won't." He smiled, and for a moment, she could see both versions of him at once - the carefree student and the careful professional, the friend she'd lost and the man he'd become. "Deal."