The book

It's strange to see all these people waiting for me to sign their copy of my book. A novel that I created with some words that jumped out of my head. A story that I don't even like but, somehow, people seem to enjoy it. My editor says that's because I already read it too many times and maybe he's right. But all I know it's that I didn't want to be here. 

One good thing in my favor was time because it was passing surprisingly fast and I was already tired of writing my name over and over.

The last person in line gave me her book for the last autograph of the night. We took a picture and then I was free to enjoy the small after-party in the coffee shop inside the library. 

My editor was already with his cappuccino in hand talking with some of our friends when I arrived.

The place was cozy. The soft yellow light from the lamps, the nice jazz playing in the background, and the delicious smell of coffee. I had found the perfect place to chill. 

Running away from the long boring conversations, I choose to sit next to a small window that was almost completely covered by snow on the outside. There was something about seeing snowflakes falling. For me, it was like being hypnotized for a few minutes. In these moments, I'm not on this planet anymore. I'm traveling across this fantasy world that I've created in my head.

I got lost for some minutes. I didn't realize I was in a conversation until someone touches my arms to know if I agree with whatever the question some of them just made. I shake my head positively hoping that it was the right answer and then I go back to pay attention in the world outside this library, across the snow.

A few minutes later, the waiter approached us and asked if we wanted anything, I felt like I needed caffeine. Maybe a double cup would help to keep me awake at that moment. With the orders, he vanishes to the balcony. Leaving me with a boring conversation and my mind, which was also known as my prison.

The thoughts in my head were fighting. That's because I keep telling myself that I should be happy. I just became a published author and my book was good on sales and criticisms. However, I couldn't help myself to wonder that something was odd. Like everything was fake and would vanish any second. That story doesn't feel right, at least not for me. 

This little war in my head was the main reason why it took some time for me to notice the man staring at me. 

He was alone on the opposite side of the coffee shop. I recognize him from earlier. I already signed his book so I thought maybe he was a curious fan or just a creepy guy. The point is he didn’t even try to hide or disguise his eyes on me and, to be honest, that intrigued me. 

*****

"I loved your book". The man that was staring at me moments before said. He took a sit on aa chair in front of me with a smile on his face that I couldn’t decipher. 

"Thank you". I said and an awkward silence rises between us. I try to avoid contact with his eyes but he just keeps looking at me like.

"How it was to write it?". He asked and to my surprise, he seems to care. Not the type that just shows interest to initiate a conversation with second intentions or the ones who wanna make me feel good about my work. He truly wanted to know. 

"Great". This wasn't a good answer but I honestly didn't know what to say or if I wanted to have that conversation. I have never been the type of person who has an easy and small talk with strangers. That's one of the reasons that I don't have many friends. 

"Really? I was hoping you would be more excited about this whole thing, but you look bored".

"Yeah, I am". There was no need for me to lie. "I think I liked the story while I was writing because I felt the need of taking all of these words of my head, but now that it's done and available for the world to see it... just seems like this book is a bunch of garbage with a nice cover".

"What made you stop liking the story?". He asked.

"I don't know". I said and it was true. I had no idea of what was happening with me and why I couldn't just appreciate everything and enjoy the minutes of fame that my words conquered. 

"How the idea came?". He asked with curiosity, maybe he's a writer after all and wants some tips.

"Are you interviewing me?". The question makes him laugh and I notice how pretty he was. The type of man that can make you happy just by looking at his smile. But he was also a puzzle and had this expression like he knew what I was going to say next.

"No, I’m intrigued about you". He said with his eyes walking through the room until they stop at me again. "Do you dream about it? The story..."

"Well, yeah". I said trying to find the words. "But it’s like those dreams we have when we’re awake you know?"

"I think I know". He hesitates. "But It wasn’t a dream or an idea". He says with his eyes deep in mines. "The book it’s your memory".

"My memory?". I said frowning my eyebrows before laughing. This man was crazy but I must admit he was the best part of my night so far. Maybe that was his move, his way to get to know me. After all, he wasn't bad looking and it wouldn't hurt for me to have a little flirtation even though if this is a flirtation it's not a good one.

"This was funny". I said. "But I don’t have the time for this and it’s a really bad book... I mean, you should waste your time with something that matters".

"I know you won’t believe me, at least not now". He said and then looked at his watch. "We have time".

"Time?". I asked and at this point, I just wish he could make any sense. He was cute to look but I was quite done having a crazy man in my life. And I've watched too many tv shows to know he could be a serial killer with this unique and creative method of getting his victims.

"Yeah, be patient". 

"Why are you here?" I asked while finishing my coffee and trying to understand why I'm still talking with him.

"Because I need you". He said putting his hand over mine. They were cold but, for more crazy as it sounds, I felt warm.

"What the hell? Need me? We just met". The laugh between my words didn't change his malicious smile on his face. I was holding my novel thinking how mad or high this guy must be. "You’re crazy... how could this thing be my memory? Did you read the book?"

"Yes, that’s how I found you". He whispers. "You don’t know how many years has been since the last time I saw you. I’ve been chasing you everywhere in this world".

"That’s bullshit". I said getting up. "But thanks, I was having a bad time here and you make this night a lot way funnier"

"Just wait. It’s almost time for me to prove I'm right".

"I see". I said and we both became silents. I sat on the chair again with a part of me yelling "run!" and the other saying "just wait for a few more minutes".

We were looking at each other's eyes. He was smiling and I was just so focused on this conversation that I stop paying attention to everything around us.

"Ok, let's imagine that I believe in you even thou this is a fantasy book and there's no way that this could have happened or will happen. Are you saying that I am Madeline, the protagonist?". I said trying to convince him about how absurd that whole thing was and part of me just felt ridiculous because I knew he was playing with me.

"I understand your confusion, you expected to be the good girl like you are here... in this world. But you shouldn’t be disappointed. Being the bad guy, girl in your case, it’s not that bad". He said.

"Great! So I'm this horrible villain that I create in my head? And a lived in this fantasy world before my mind got erased?". I asked but I didn't expect an answer. "Ok, I got it. But why are you here?"

"I need you to restore the chaos". 

My eyes jumped, I couldn't believe this conversation. He was insane. I had to get away from him.

"It's time". He said the exact moment I stand up. My eyes started to walk through the coffee shop and I realize we were alone.  

"Where's everybody?" I asked and a cold wind touched my body.

"I made them leave two minutes ago". He said with satisfaction all over his face. "I can be... persuasive".

Suddenly everything around us started to spin. The walls were fast and I felt dizzy almost falling. But he seems to be used to it because he was standing there like nothing was going on.

"This is creating a portal between the worlds, a few more seconds and will stop". He had to start yelling because there was too much noise between us. Everything in the coffee shop was spinning and breaking. "Once we get there, you'll remember everything". He said still managing to keep his body straight up and his face unsurprised while we were on a sort of crazy earthquake.

My heart was beating like he wanted to jump out of my chest. I feel like I was going to throw up at any moment. One cup of coffee even collide with the window next to me and my dress got wet and warm. But then, everything stops and... I remembered.