Run: 2026-07-25-01KYD5XHDVKHH18YSQA8XX5RDD

The green neon buzzed above the door on Greek Street and threw its light onto the wet pavement. Inside, The Raven's Nest smelled of old wood polish and beer and rain drying off coats. Rory wiped the counter. Last orders had thinned. The maps on the wall curled at the edges. A clock ticked behind the bar that never told the right time. The door opened. Cold air pushed in. She looked up without thinking about it, the way she always did when the bell jingled. A woman stood in the doorway with water on her shoulders, hair stuck to her forehead. Rory stopped wiping. "Jesus." The woman blinked. Rain dripped from her chin. "No." "Mei?" Mei Lin laughed once, a sharp sound that cracked in the middle. She stepped forward and then stopped, hands still in the pockets of a waxed jacket that cost more than Rory's flat. "My god. Rory Carter." Rory vaulted the bar before she decided to. She collided with Mei and the jacket was slick and cold and underneath it Mei felt thinner than she remembered. Thinner and taller. Mei had cut her hair. In school it had hung to her waist, black as ink. Now it brushed her jaw, severe, dyed at the tips a dark copper. Her face had lost its softness. Cheekbones cut hard. A small silver hoop caught the light in her nose. "You work here?" "I live above it. I help out." "You live above a bar in Soho. Of course you do." Rory pulled back enough to see her properly. The bright blue of her own eyes reflected the low light. Mei's eyes were the same, lined now with something precise and smoky. "You vanished. After year twelve. Your mum said you went to Edinburgh." "I did." "And then — nothing. I texted." "I know." The door opened again. A couple left, arguing in whispers. The bell jingled. Silas came out of the back room with a crate of glasses. He moved with the slight drag of his left leg, weight shifting to his right. His auburn hair, streaked grey at the temples, caught the lamplight. The silver signet on his right hand flashed when he set the crate down. He looked at the two women standing too close in the middle of his bar. "You two need a drink or a room?" Rory's mouth twitched. Her straight black hair swung against her shoulders when she turned. "Silas. This is Mei. Mei, Silas. He owns the place." Silas wiped his hands on his apron. His hazel eyes narrowed, then softened. "Mei. Friend from the before times?" "Cardiff. Comprehensive. Rory once set fire to the science block microwave trying to heat up an entire cottage pie. Still included." "I saved it. That pie fed three people." Mei shrugged out of her jacket. Underneath she wore a black roll neck and tailored trousers. No student hoodie. No chipped nail polish. The Rory she had known wore uniform ties as belts. This Mei held herself like someone who paid for posture lessons. Silas slid two glasses across the bar. He uncapped something dark without asking. "On the house. For the reunion." Mei picked up the glass. Rory's left wrist turned and the small crescent scar caught the light. Mei stared at it. "Still there." "Still there." Silas retreated to the far end, polishing. He gave them space, but he stayed within earshot. The bar made a hollow shape around them. "So." Mei took a sip. "Delivery girl turned barmaid? What happened to Law?" Rory leaned against the bar, arms crossed, shoulders tight. Her stature at five-six always looked shorter when she braced like that. "I finished the degree. Didn't want the life. Moved." "Because of Evan?" The question landed flat and heavy. Rory's jaw worked. "You kept up with that, then." "Your mum told my mum. She was worried." "Right." Mei set her glass down. Her hands shook. "Don't do that." "Do what?" "Make me the villain because I didn't chase you." "I didn't —" "You did. You disappeared. You left me on read for two years, Rory. I thought something happened to you. I thought he did something." Silence pooled between them. The rain hammered the windows. Rory stared at the grain of the bar top. "I couldn't go back. Not even for texts. Every time I looked at Cardiff, I saw him. I saw myself with him. I needed to cut it all off. Not just him." Mei's eyes filled. She blinked hard. "Even me?" "Even you. You were the best part. That made it harder." Mei laughed again, wet this time. "You idiot." "Yeah." "I flew down for your dad's birthday that one year. You were gone. Your mum made a cake with your name on it and you weren't there. She cried in the kitchen. I helped her wash up." Rory flinched. "I didn't know that." "Of course you didn't. You left." The words hung. Mei pressed the heel of her palm into her eye. "I got into art foundation. You told me not to bother. You said I'd starve." "I was seventeen. I was an arse." "You were right. For a while. Edinburgh was brutal. I starved. Then I didn't." Rory looked at the jacket again, at the clean lines, the expensive boots. "You look... you look different. Good. But different." "I am different. I had to be. After you went quiet, I realised no one was going to come save me from staying in that town forever. So I left too. I changed my name on my portfolio. I changed everything." "Mei suits you. The new Mei." "Lian now. Professionally. Mei Lian." Rory tested the name. "Lian. It fits." "My mum hates it." Rory snorted. Short. Real. "My dad still asks if I'll sit the bar." "Will you?" "No." Silas refilled their glasses without a word. He tapped the bar once with the signet ring and walked away. The ring clicked against wood. Mei watched him. "He's kind." "He is." "He looks at you like you're his kid." Rory shrugged. The gesture failed to hide the softness that crossed her face. "He let me stay when I had nowhere. He taught me how to open the till without it jamming." "You always found strays. Or they found you." "You were never a stray." "No. I was the one who stayed inside the lines so you had someone to drag out." Rory reached forward before she thought. She grabbed Mei's hand. Mei's fingers were cold. "I missed you." Mei did not pull away. "I missed you until it turned into something else. Something angry." "I know that feeling." "Do you?" Rory tightened her grip. The crescent scar stood pale against Mei's skin. "Every time I made a delivery to a posh house, I thought — Mei would know what that wallpaper is. Every time I saw a girl with long black hair on the Tube. Every time Eva talked about uni and you weren't there to call her pretentious." "I'm not pretentious." "You were, a bit. But you were right about most things." Mei's mouth broke open. She covered it with her free hand. "Stop. You're going to make me cry in this stupid expensive jacket." "Cry. It's waterproof." Mei did. Not loud. Her shoulders shook once, twice. Rory pulled her in and Mei smelled of rain and perfume and something metallic like paint. They stood like that while the bar emptied and the green light outside flickered. When they parted, Mei wiped her face with her sleeve and left a black smear. "Look what you did." "You always cried over me." "Shut up." Rory poured the last of the bottle. "Stay. Upstairs is a mess but the kettle works." Mei looked at her phone. The screen lit her changed face. She switched it off. "I have a train at midnight." "Miss it." "I have an opening in Shoreditch tomorrow. Early." Rory nodded. She swallowed. "Right." Mei picked up her jacket. She hesitated. "Come. In the morning. Bring your... bring your bar dad if you want." Rory's eyebrows lifted. "Seriously?" "My stuff is... it's about Cardiff, mostly. Maps. Houses. The river. You'd hate it. Which means you'd actually get it." Silas, from his spot by the maps, raised his glass a fraction. He had heard. "I'll come." "Good." Mei zipped her jacket. She reached into her bag and pulled out a crumpled card. Thick paper. LIAN ZHANG - VISUALS. Rory turned it over. On the back, in pen, Mei had written a time, an address. "Don't not show up." "I won't." Mei walked to the door. She paused with her hand on the handle. The rain hammered harder. "You cut your hair." "You cut yours first." "I know. I just... I kept expecting to see you round a corner with the same bob. Same everything." Rory touched her own straight shoulder-length hair. "It grows." Mei pushed the door. The bell jingled. The green neon cut across her face one more time and then she was gone into the street, a black shape against the wet light. Rory stayed by the bar. She held the card tight.