Fate Reloaded

Fate Reloaded--Part III, Chapter Two

Chapter Two

“But there are a ton of other free tables,” Jordana said, motioning around the place with her hand.

“I know, but I always sit at this table,” the guy said.

“Have you ever heard of first come, first serve?” Jordana asked him as politely as she could.

“Look, I know this may seem weird to you, but I’m a musician, and I have these superstitions about where I write my songs,” the guy said. “And it just so happens that for some reason, whenever I sit in this booth, I come up with my best stuff. So, you see, I have to sit here.”

 “Well,” she started. “Either you can go and try to find inspiration at another table, or you can sit down here with me, because I’m not moving.”

The guy stared at her as he processed what she’d just said.

OK, maybe not the smartest thing to say to a guy who looked like he could intimidate The Judge, she thought as the guy stared at her in silence.

“Fine,” he said, and plopped down into the seat across from her.

“Wait,” Jordana said, nervously. “I was just kidding.”

“Listen. I’ll do my music thing and you can do your—book thing,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“This has got to be the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me,” Jordana said under her breath.

“If this is the weirdest thing that’s ever happened to you, you must lead a very sheltered life,” the guy said, not looking at her as he pulled out a stack of paper and a pencil.

“I do not live a sheltered life, and hello, you don’t even know me!” Jordana said angrily as she watched him unpack his guitar and place it between himself and the table.

“You’re right, I don’t know you,” he said. “I’m just stressed, because I’ve had the worst case of writer’s block lately. And my buddies have been riding me to come up with our next jam…”

“It’s fine,” Jordana mumbled, starting to calm down. Picking up her book, she once again started to read. She could hear the guy scribbling furiously on his paper. A few minutes later, she heard him grunt in frustration and then ball up the page. Jordana heard the scratching start up again and like clockwork, the paper was balled up.

OK, so it’s pretty obvious that I’m not gonna get any reading done tonight, Jordana thought. She sighed, dog-eared the page she was on and closed her book.

“So, what’s got you stuck?” Jordana asked, placing her elbows on top of the table.

The guy looked up at her curiously. He seemed to be contemplating whether to talk to her or not. He must have decided that she was worthy of talking to him, because he put down his paper and began to ramble.

“It’s like, I know what I want to write, but I’m having trouble putting it down and making it all flow,” he said.

“Well, let’s see what you’ve got so far,” Jordana said, reaching for the nearest balled up paper.

“Have you ever written song lyrics before?” he asked her slowly.

“No,” Jordana said. “But really, how hard can it be?”

Jordana smoothed out the piece of paper and was astonished at what she saw. There were words scribbled all over the page. There were a few complete sentences, but mostly there were just words jotted all around. The mixture of words was so odd though, that Jordana couldn’t even begin to guess what the song might have been about.