December through May became a test of endurance. Marcus existed in a liminal space—not quite a student, not quite employed, not quite recovered. He worked part-time at a coffee shop near his shared house, pouring lattes and wiping tables while his former cohort continued their studies. The work was mindless but necessary, providing income to supplement David's financial help and structure to fill his empty days.
This is what defeat looks like, Lily observed during Marcus's morning shift on a gray January day. Her voice had stabilized at a manageable level—present but not overwhelming, commentary rather than command. You were supposed to be an artist, a therapist. Instead you're making cappuccinos for undergraduates.



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