When the world feels silent

The silence in Noah's apartment wasn’t peaceful. It hummed like a refrigerator left open, constant and low, reminding him of all the voices that had gone missing.

His phone screen glowed with notifications. Group chats, email reminders, a discount code for meal delivery. Not a single message was for him, though. Not one said, Hey. How are you?

He sighed, shoved the phone under a pillow, and opened his laptop instead. Somewhere in the liminal space between boredom and ache, he typed a phrase he’d never said aloud:

“Rent a friend near me.”

The website was oddly cheerful. Stock photos of smiling people in parks, at coffee shops, walking dogs. It felt fake, but not faker than pretending he was okay.

Her name was Elise. She offered “friendly, thoughtful conversation and judgment-free listening.” She had short auburn hair, a nose ring, and eyes that looked like they knew too much but wouldn’t say so.

He booked her for Saturday. One hour. Café on 5th.

It was either going to be tragic or interesting. Either way, it would be something.

When she arrived, she didn’t look surprised to see him fidgeting at the corner table, clutching his coffee like a lifeline.

“Hi, Noah?” she said.

He stood too quickly. “Yeah. Hi. Uh, thanks for coming.”

She smiled and sat down like this was the most normal thing in the world.

The first ten minutes were small talk. Weather. Favorite books. Local parks. She had a calm presence, like a human version of a deep breath.

He caught himself laughing at one of her jokes, and it startled him.

“I haven’t laughed like that in a while,” he admitted.

Elise tilted her head. “You don’t have to pretend here. That’s kind of the point.”

He didn’t pretend after that.

He told her things he hadn’t told anyone. About how the pandemic had unraveled his friend group. How his dad stopped calling. How he sometimes walked into grocery stores just to feel like he existed.

Elise didn’t offer solutions. She just listened. Really listened.

When their hour was up, she asked, “Would you like to book another session?”

He hesitated.

Then nodded.

Over the next few weeks, they met three more times. A bookstore. A walk along the river. A quiet bench downtown.

He told himself it was just a social experiment. Research for a story he’d never write. But the truth was, he looked forward to seeing her more than anything else in his life.

With Elise, he could say the quiet parts out loud.

And she never flinched.

“Do you ever feel weird about this?” he asked one day, as they watched pigeons peck crumbs off the sidewalk.

She looked up from her coffee. “Weird how?”

“That I’m paying you to be here.”

Elise was quiet for a moment.

“I get paid to show up. But what I do when I get here—that’s real. At least for me.”

Her words sank into him like sunlight through water.

That night, Noah didn’t sleep. He lay awake thinking about how strange it was that this had worked. That a stranger with a kind voice and rented time had cracked him open in a way no one else had in years.

He reached for his phone and typed a message.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I expected when I signed up for this, but… I think I really needed it.”

She replied two minutes later.

“I’m glad you reached out. You’re not alone, Noah. Even when it feels like it.”

He stared at the screen until the words blurred.

He didn’t book another session.

Not because he didn’t want to. But because it had done what he needed it to do.

He joined a local book club the next week. Asked an old coworker to grab lunch. Called his mother back.

He started answering honestly when people asked how he was.

Not great. Trying. Better, maybe.

Weeks passed. Then a month.

On a Tuesday evening, Noah found himself walking past the café on 5th. He paused outside the window and saw someone who looked like Elise, sitting across from a man in a green coat. The man was laughing, his face lit up like a lantern.

Elise met Noah’s eyes for a fleeting second.

She smiled, just slightly, then looked away—back to the man who needed her now.

And that was enough.

Noah walked on, his breath visible in the chill spring air. The world was still quiet, but not so heavy anymore. The silence no longer pressed down on him.

Some part of him was still healing.

But another part had begun again.

He didn’t know if he'd ever see Elise again. Maybe that was the magic of it.

Some people arrive only for a chapter.

But they still change the story.