The Meet Cute

The Meet Cute

That’s the thing about this city, everyone is under the false impression they are gods greatest creation. Everywhere I look there is a stitched image of what people choose for you to see rather than the real raw truth of their character. Instead of seeing the individual that they were created to be, they have become the very thing they are afraid of, average. 

As I sit here in this coffee shop looking around contemplating my existence in this world and witnessing the “success” around me, all I see is plastic. The beauty that I once admired and fantasized having has been laid out in truth. It is all paid for happiness. The inner person is more insecure than I had ever dreamed of being. The more I realize their failure and lack of true identity the more I realize the advantage I have. The success generated is based on a lie. They are productive in a community based on lies and fabrication. I no longer want to be a part of anything that surrounds me. 

I listen to my friend badger about not being pretty enough, about not being successful, complaining about not being desired in a world of Barbie. “Do you really want that?” I ask. “Is needing validation from the ones who cannot even validate themselves really that important to you? Can you not see the lack from within?” 

She describes to me that she feels lost. 

When you are surrounded by lost souls it is nearly impossible not to fall into the shadows with them. I understand her pain and frustration. I know that deep down it shouldn’t be something I too desire, but I do. I want validation from these modified models. 

I sit across the room from her. I have had my eye on her for two weeks now. She first caught my attention when I caught her looking at a group of beautiful women, that usually draw looks of desire, with disdain. She is one of the only humans that I have witnessed that seemed to see through the facade the others have created to mimic us. It was almost as if she could look inside and see the parts of them they have sacrificed to become beautiful. She is one of the most intriguing beings I have witnessed. Anything I would assume she would do, she ends up doing the exact opposite. I watch her listen to her friend’s complaints about life and what she doesn’t have and I can see the sympathy and anger mixly etched across her face. Her friend’s words have aroused an internal conflict within her based on the emotions I am sensing roll off from her.

Some internal instinct in me doesn’t like the anguish she is experiencing. I can almost sense a feeling of shame radiating from her. I want to growl at her friend. Before she arrived the mysterious being seemed to be content in her person. It was comforting to be near someone so grounded. Curious but grounded. 

I rise from the table and walk near her watching her and hoping she will look up at me. I want to see how she responds to the real god in her presence. I want to know if she can tell that I’m different. Most of these other humans around me don’t even know themselves enough to recognize something different amongst them. They are absorbed in their thoughts about what others think of them. I get closer and I continue to watch her, drawing her attention. 

I am a few strides away when she looks up. She locks eyes with me. I feel excitement zing through her and then curiosity. I was right, she knows I am different. She isn’t frightened though like most who notice me. She doesn’t break eye contact and she even offers a little smile. Something I haven’t seen her do when anyone else approached her the past few weeks. Those little smiles were only reserved for her dear friend that is making me on edge with her ability to shift the mood of this wondrous creature so readily. 

I smile back at her as her friend looks my way. I can’t seem to break away from her stare long enough to register the look on her friend’s face, but I feel the emotion. She is like any other typical woman in the area for the most part. I feel an immediate attraction and desire but in the distance I sense a wonder in her that she doesn’t have enough confidence to embrace. I know she will never guess what I am unless she is given guidance. Her on the other hand, Cadence I think is her name, she knows I am different. Cady, as her friend calls her, wants to know me. 

I break eye contact as I meander toward the counter. I  keep my back to her knowing that I need to play it cool. I shouldn’t be playing around with this. I know that they must not know we are here and we exist. We have kept ourselves hidden amongst the shallow for years. But I cannot help myself. I need to know what is different about her. Why she knows what I am. I turn and walk back to my seat flicking her a small smile as I pass. 

Who is that? I have never seen him around here. I notice Lilly watching me as I glance at the beautiful person behind her. My arm hair stands on end as our eyes latch onto each other. I cannot tell if the adrenaline is from excitement or terror that causes this reaction. Lilly turns around behind her and too takes in the 6’5 modelesk dark featured male behind her. I can tell by her body language that she finds him to be just as attractive as I do, but I cannot look away. He doesn’t even look at her. Usually Lilly is the one who draws the attention of strangers, not me nor do I usually want it. Today, today I want all of his attention and do not care if it leads to wings or ruin. Today I want to know him. 

Lilly turns around as he purchases a coffee from the counter and asks, “ Where has that been? Did you see how he didn’t even look at me? I told you I think I’m truly not even noticed by anyone in this town. I bet he was looking at the beautiful blonde behind you!” 

It almost stings that she doesn’t think he would even notice me over her but I do not correct her. I let her think that he was looking at the blonde behind me because it will pacify her need for validation. He passes by again on his way back to his seat and flicks me another inviting smile. All I can do is count the seconds until Lilly decides it is a good time to leave. I have made up my mind that if he doesn’t approach me before we leave, I will take the initiative. Completely out of character for me, but I do not care. I need to know him. 

I listen without hearing any of Lilly’s stories. I laugh on occasion and agree with her but I do not hear her. She does not notice. She is involved in what she is saying and feeling to the extent that she doesn’t even care about my response. She just wants someone to tell. I let her tell me and on occasion I feel the look of the intoxicating stranger that my senses seem to be attuned to. He hasn’t left, but he hasn’t come over either. Is he waiting for me? 

I see her friend indicate toward the door and they rise up out of their seats. I can sense anxiety from her but I cannot tell why. She looks my way and then quickly looks down, beginning to fidget with her fingers and biting her lower lip. I can tell she is contemplating something but I wasn’t close enough to hear the conversation so I have no clue why this beauty seems to be confused. Beauty? I mill the word over in my mind. She is truly beautiful. Not like me in the traditional sense, but in a more logical, practice sense. A real beauty. I realize I am attracted to her. I have not been attracted to a human ever. She is unique.

I watch her exit the cafe with a sense of dread pitting itself in my stomach. I cannot justify to myself why I should chase after her. Every instinct in me tells me not to let her leave without a conversation, but my practical side understands the absurdity of the feeling. She is beneath me. She doesn’t deserve me. As I think that to myself I know it is a lie. She deserves someone who sees beyond what she is and looks at who she is. She would do the same for anyone she cares about. 

I look up and glance out the window toward the direction she walked too stuck in my ways to force myself to take action and move. I do not see her. The car I’ve witnessed her driving is still parked in the lot. She must be sitting inside. I can still feel her though. I can feel the mixture of excitement and terror coursing through her. I begin to trace my way back toward the door and am surprised and skeptical when I see her walking toward me. When we make eye contact I see her set her shoulders into place and a sense of determination thrust from every feature on her face. Not only do I see the change in her body language, but I feel her isolate her emotions and focus on the strongest one that I feel brushing against my skin. Desire. Not the type that I feel from most women. No, this is a different type of desire that I feel coming off from her. I do not understand it exactly and it frustrates me. I feel her desire for me, but it’s mixed with other desires that are unfamiliar to me. 

She gets closer and the uncertainty I feel toward her beings to increase. She is making me nervous. Of all people this meek mortal is intimidating me unbeknownst to her. I let my eyes travel the length of her and travel back up. She blushes and I feel a pulse in the most unusual place. 

She gets to the table and extends her hand. “ I’m Cadence” 

“Dreggs” I reply as I motion for her to sit. 

She pulls out the seat across from me and smiles. I feel it click into place and smile back at her. 

Mine.