Months ago, you had finally gotten a job in the town over from yours, at a small but vibrant florists boutique. You didn't mind it, and you quite enjoyed the almost fresh start of working in a town that wasn't your small hometown by the beach, even if it was only a 30 minute bus ride away.

On that bus, you would always see Reagan, her red hair hard to miss, as well as her constant headphones over her ears. Her stop was only a few before yours, and you would always spend those 20 minutes on the bus with her, even if you'd never speak, or if she'd barely acknowledge you with more than a nod.

She worked in the cafe beside the florists boutique, her shifts always starting and ending at the same time as yours, hence the bus always being the same.

It was a rainy autumn day, the maples and oak trees along the street before the boutique and cafe dropping their orange and yellowed leaves, covering the wet pavement of the sidewalk in colours. Your shift was finally over, and you were waiting by the bus stop, perfectly placed between the space outside the cafe and the florists, when Reagan walked out of the cafe, also finished with her shift by now, waiting for the bus alongside you, and, for what felt like the first time in months, she wasn't wearing her headphones, the white headphones instead slung on the top of her bag.