The hum of the university auditorium buzzed with quiet chatter as students settled into the rows of chairs, their voices mingling with the faint rustle of notebooks and the occasional clink of water bottles. A banner above the stage read Career Development Workshop: Pathways to Success, and the air was thick with a mixture of nerves, ambition, and the hopeful energy of a new semester.
Archie sat near the middle, a notepad resting on his lap but mostly forgotten. His mind was elsewhere, tangled in the threads of the past week — the park, the ice cream, the elusive guy who had reappeared in his thoughts like a ghost refusing to fade.
Beside him, Anne nudged his arm gently. "You're really not paying attention," she whispered, amusement twinkling in her eyes. "Focus, Archie. This might actually be useful."
Archie tried to summon interest as the workshop facilitator stepped onto the stage — a sharp, confident woman with a clipboard and a microphone. She welcomed everyone and gave a brief overview of the day's schedule: networking tips, résumé workshops, mock interviews, and guest speakers. Archie's attention flickered back to the front, just in time for the introduction of the first guest speaker.
A video played briefly, highlighting the generosity of alumni who had donated funds to support the event. The screen faded to a sharp, polished photo of a young man in a tailored suit, standing against a sleek city skyline.
"And now," the facilitator announced, "Please welcome, a recent graduate from the class of last year, who has quickly made a name for himself in the world of finance and entrepreneurship. He comes from a distinguished family known for their philanthropic efforts and business ventures. He's here to share his story and offer guidance on building a successful career. Ladies and gentlemen, William Connor "
The auditorium lights dimmed slightly as William Connor himself appeared on stage, walking with the relaxed confidence of someone used to attention. Archie's breath caught, eyes widening in disbelief.
It was him.
The guy from the diner. The one holding the strawberry ice cream cone in the park.
The mysterious man who had haunted Archie's thoughts and dreams.
William Connor's sharp features and unmistakable calm smile were exactly as Archie remembered — too vivid to be a trick of his imagination. And now, here he was, standing just a few dozen feet away, speaking with ease about ambition, strategy, and seizing opportunity.
Archie's heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment he felt frozen — caught between the surreal and the painfully real.
Anne leaned closer, noticing his expression. "You okay?" she whispered, her voice gentle.
"I... I think I know him," Archie stammered, voice barely audible.
Anne's eyebrows lifted. "The guy you've been thinking about?"
He nodded, eyes fixed on William as he spoke about navigating the early stages of a career, the importance of networking, and the value of mentorship. Every word seemed charged with a new layer of meaning for Archie.
William glanced out at the audience, his gaze unexpectedly lingering for a brief moment — as if he, too, recognized something in the crowd.
The rest of the workshop passed in a blur for Archie, a mix of excitement and anxiety swirling beneath the surface. After the session, as students filtered out and conversations buzzed in the hallways, Archie found himself scanning the crowd, searching for William.
Anne walked beside him, steady and encouraging. "Maybe now's your chance," she said softly. "If you want to talk to him."
Archie swallowed hard. "I don't even know what I'd say."
"Start with your name," Anne teased lightly, but her eyes were warm. "Or just be honest. Tell him you think you've met before."
Summoning every ounce of courage, Archie spotted William by the refreshment table. Taking a deep breath, he approached.
"Hi," Archie said, voice trembling slightly.
William turned, surprise flickering across his face as he looked at Archie. "Hey. You're—"
"The guy from the diner," Archie finished for him, a small, nervous smile breaking through.
William's smile softened. "Yeah. I remember you."
And just like that, the complicated weave of almosts and maybes began to unravel, offering a glimpse into a story neither of them had expected to continue — until now.
Archie's jaw felt suddenly heavy, as if his ears had filled with cotton. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again—nothing but a strangled noise came out. William Connor's calm, curious gaze lingered on him, waiting for words that simply refused to form.
Just as Archie's face threatened to crumble into an apologetic grin—or worse, a panicked grimace—Anne appeared at his elbow with all the subtlety of a marching band.
"Hey, you two!" she chirped, striking a perfect midair pose, as if she'd choreographed this moment in advance. "Great to see you! Archie here was just telling me how much he—" She glanced at Archie, whose cheeks were flaming like a stoplight. "—how much he admires your career trajectory, William."
Archie's eyes widened. "I wasn't—" he sputtered, waving a flustered hand at Anne, as if trying to physically swat away her interference. "Anne, I wasn't saying that—"
Anne paid him no mind, turning back to William with a broad smile. "Anyway, William, you're coming to the bar with us tonight, right?"
William raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "The bar?" he repeated, glancing at Archie. "I didn't know—"
"Of course you're coming," Anne said, arms folded in mock sternness. "It's tradition. We suffer through your résumé tips and then we go out to celebrate. Archie's been looking forward to it for weeks."
Archie twisted in his seat to face Anne, narrowing his eyes. He leaned in and whispered frantically, "Anneeee, we do not have plans to go to a baaarrrrrr."
Anne frowned thoughtfully, as if just now realizing the immense oversight. "Oh. Right. I forgot to mention, places like to have a reservation." She fixed him with an innocent, impish grin. "But that's fine. We can just show up and charm our way in, right?"
Archie blinked. He reclaimed some composure and attempted an apologetic wave toward William. "Sorry. I mean, I didn't mention it because... well, it's not really—"
Anne cut in, raising a single finger as if about to make an important proclamation. "But I already RSVP'd us. My bad on assuming you'd be free."
William leaned back, folding his arms. "If I'm honest, I don't usually go to bars," he said evenly, "but... I'm intrigued. What time?"
Anne pretended to consider carefully. "Let's say... 9 p.m.? That's when the karaoke heats up, the bartenders start making questionable decisions, and Archie pretends to know lyrics to songs he's never heard."
Archie's mouth snapped shut. He gaped at Anne, then at William, attempting silent begging eyes. "Nine? Tonight? I have—"
"I'll be there," William interrupted coolly, offering a polite nod. "Nine o'clock."
Anne pumped a fist in the air as though she'd just won a prize. "Excellent! It's settled then. We'll be at Paddy's Pub—arcade machines in the back, and the karaoke is so good." She swung her purse over her shoulder. "I'll see you there, Archie. Don't be late—or I'll order for you and you'll end up with eight tequila shots."
Archie goggled at her. "Eight?" he croaked.
Anne waved dismissively. "Small town. Small bar. What's first is first. I'll text you an address. Sayonara!" She gave William a half-bow and practically cartwheeled away down the hallway, leaving Archie and William blinking after her retreating form.
For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the distant hum of foot traffic and the faint thud of sneakers against the linoleum floor. Archie attempted to swallow. His Adam's apple bobbed visibly. "That—was bold."
William's expression was unreadable; his mouth twitched at the corners as if he were suppressing a smile. "She knows you well," he said quietly. "I've seen her in action before—infectious energy."
Archie tried to smile back. "She does have a knack for... making plans." He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I—I'm sorry about that invitation. If you'd rather not—"
William shook his head. "No need to apologize. I'm actually... looking forward to something different. I've seen you around campus—maybe it's time I met your group. I'd like to get to know the people behind the student who claims he's terrible at frisbee."
Archie's lips twitched into a genuine grin this time. "That... isn't a bad reason to come. Thank you."
William inclined his head. "Plus, I have a feeling there's more to your story than just frisbee mishaps."
Archie felt the familiar tug at his chest—a mixture of relief and anticipation. "Well... I'll text you the details. Paddy's Pub at 9."
"Perfect," William said, offering his hand. Archie took it, noticing how warm and firm William's grip was—no bones to it, no awkwardness.
"Looking forward to it," William added, giving Archie a knowing look. Then he threaded through the dispersing crowd of students, leaving Archie with his racing thoughts.
Archie let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. He turned just in time to see Anne waiting at the end of the hallway, phone in hand, eyebrows dancing with curiosity.
She crossed her arms and grinned. "Well? He agreed?"
Archie nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's... coming. Tonight, at 9."
Anne punched the air again. "I told you it would work out."
Archie gave her a wry look. "You know you completely rail‑roaded me, right?"
She wrinkled her nose playfully. "Maybe. But if he didn't want to come, he wouldn't have. Now quit whining and help me pick a karaoke song. I already texted Marco about meeting us there."
Archie shook his head, both exasperated and grateful. "A karaoke song?"
"Yup! Something epic," she said, bouncing on her toes. "What do you think—'Livin' on a Prayer' or 'Sweet Child o' Mine'?"
"I don't know either", Archie responded.
Anne rolled her eyes. "That's half the fun. You'll just scream the first line and pretend it's intentional. Don't worry, I and Marco got you covered." She linked arms with him. "Come on. Let's get ready. Nine o'clock—don't be a minute late."
As they turned the corner, Archie couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement. Despite his lingering anxiety, everything felt charged with possibility. William's unexpected presence at his life's most mundane crossroads—first the diner, then the park, and now at a career workshop—was no longer just coincidence. It was becoming a thread, pulling them together in a story that was still being written.
And tonight, at Paddy's Pub, perhaps that story would take a new, unexpectedly loud and off-key chapter—one complete with karaoke, questionable drink choices, and the promise that beginnings often come wrapped in the embrace of chaos and good friends.