“Hey, John, grab me a beer while you’re in there!” Eren called toward the house.

  “Get me one too, John!” Mike echoed.

  “Oh, yes, Massa!” John shouted back sarcastically as he pushed open the spring door, three beers in hand, chuckling.

  “Here, take this, Mike.” He handed one over.

  “Thanks, John!” Mike said, plopping onto a log beside the fire. Eren followed, settling down with a grunt.

  They arranged themselves in a loose semi-circle around the small campfire. The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the grass, painting everything in gold and orange.

  “Whew,” Eren exhaled, leaning back. “I just love hanging out with you two idiots.”

  “Same with you, Einstein,” John replied. He nudged Eren lightly with his boot.

  They clinked bottles and drank, gulping half in one go. The wind was warm. The fire crackled. Silence stretched comfortably between them.

  “Oh, man, I’m so glad it’s summer,” Mike said, tilting his head back, eyes half-closed.

  “Amen to that,” Eren said, patting Mike on the shoulder.

  Mike sat up suddenly. “You guys free Sunday?”

  Eren and John exchanged a glance. “Depends,” John said.

  “For what?” Eren asked.

  “Just thinking of cleaning out an old warehouse I bought,” Mike said casually.

  “You bought a warehouse?!” John exclaimed. “You had me loan you twenty bucks for a windshield wiper last week!”

  Eren laughed. “You guys are something else. Sure, Mike. We’ll help.”

  Mike shrugged, grinning. “Cool. Could use extra hands.”

  Eren set his beer down, eyes wandering over the small pile of scraps he’d collected earlier. Metal pieces, some wood, a hammer, a file, a few pliers. Nothing fancy.

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  “What are you doing with that stuff?” John asked, leaning over.

  “Fixing things,” Eren said, picking up a piece of metal and tapping it lightly with the hammer. “Or making things.”

  “Which?” Mike asked, squinting.

  “We'll have to see,” Eren said. “Depends on how it turns out.”

  John laughed. “Last time you said that, we ended up with a… thing that barely worked. And it put a hole in our tent.”

  “Experimental,” Eren said, dragging the file along a metal edge. “Completely necessary.”

  Mike shook his head. “Experimental, huh? You call it necessary when you almost ruin everything.”

  “Sometimes good things come from almost ruining things,” Eren said, eyes on the tiny hook he was shaping. He tapped it lightly again, checking the bend. “See? Perfect.”

  “Perfect, huh?” John said, smirking. “Tiny, useless, but perfect.”

  Eren grinned faintly. “Exactly. Patience matters.”

  Mike laughed, holding his beer. “You’re insane, man.”

  Eren looked up at the fire. Smoke drifted lazily into the orange sky. The warm wind brushed over their faces. “Maybe. Or just patient. That’s all. Patience matters.”

  They lapsed into comfortable silence again. The fire crackled, the bugs chirped, and the evening deepened.

  “Hey,” John said finally, picking up a stick and poking at the embers. “Remember that time we tried building a catapult in the backyard?”

  “Yeah,” Eren said, smirking. “You and Mike kept arguing about the trajectory. I was the only one who had the math right.”

  Mike grinned. “And you totally didn’t care that the neighbor’s fence got demolished.”

  “Details,” Eren said lightly. “Small price to pay for learning.”

  John shook his head, laughing. “You were always so… serious about the small stuff.”

  “Yeah,” Eren said. “Little things matter. Always.”

  He picked up the hook again, examining it in the firelight. Small, handcrafted, perfectly bent. His fingers brushed the metal. “This… this is practice. Just practice.”

  Mike leaned back, beer in hand. “You always had to tinker with something. I swear, man, one day you’re gonna take over the world with those little projects of yours.”

  “Maybe,” Eren said with a small smile. “Or maybe I just like seeing things work. Nothing more complicated than that.”

  John nudged him with a shoulder. “One day, Einstein, your little projects are gonna get you into trouble. Or maybe fame.”

  Eren shrugged. “I’m okay with both.”

  They talked a while longer. About school, old friends, minor victories. About who could throw a stick the farthest. About stupid bets they’d made and forgotten.

  As the fire died down, Eren leaned back, looking at the sky. Stars were starting to poke through the purple twilight. Smoke curled lazily into the air, drifting toward the darkening treetops.

  Mike yawned. “Think we’ll ever get that warehouse cleaned out?”

  Eren chuckled softly. “Eventually. But tonight… tonight is for the fire, the beer, and us.”

  John nodded, stretching his legs. “Yeah. Tonight.”

  They sat there a while longer, letting the quiet settle in, the kind of quiet that only comes when the world isn’t screaming at you. When the only thing that matters is a small fire, a cold beer, and friends who don’t let you feel alone.

  Eren glanced down at the tiny hook one last time. Perfect. Small, useless, but perfect. And maybe, in some small way, that was enough.