Complexities

Chapter One: Unpainted Dreams

I take my art work very seriously. It is something that has molded me into the person I am today. Starting from my late and harsh upbringing from a deadbeat father and an always working mother. Whenever I was sad, I picked up my paint brush and it's like the bristles knew exactly how I felt and coordinated with my hands as I shifted across the canvas. Those weary blues, mellow yellows, and eccentric greens satisfied my sadness. They became the colors I knew could make me happier underneath the sun. When I was down about never being a normal child I painted fantasies... one I could easily see as myself. I did a lot of dreaming and wishing and still at twenty four years old nothing has came true. Destiny's path took a different course I had mapped out in my head after college. A starving artist in the middle of New York City looking and praying for her next selling artwork.

"Fuck." I breathed under my breath, taking a sip from now spilled coffee I placed it to the side of my current read I was reading but not really reading and then stared down at my lap where a coffee stain seeped through my black dress causing an appearance of a wet stain. The stain that would torture me all day and I'd worry if someone else noticed it. It's something about me, I care way too much about what others think of me and it eats me the hell alive. Maybe because I never heard what people thought about me until I became an adult. Maybe I don't know how to cope with adults and their unnecessary opinions that are supposed to add to my character development somehow.

Instead of internally moping in my favorite coffee shop I decided to fix the problem like a big girl and head to the women's restroom. Running my hand over the sensor paper towel machine, I then turned the faucet to wet the paper towel. Dabbing it into my stain I stared in the mirror until it appeared to be a bigger wet stain and sighed. What's the use of trying to fix a coffee stain on a black pant suit? Exactly, I'll just go about my day.

I catch myself being a perfectionist. I get it from my mother... everything placed a certain way or done correctly and what was there to be upset about? Not exactly how life works... there's a life full of mistakes and sorrows and sorry to inform you but nobody is perfect. So why can't I get out of my own head?

It's just not that serious.

Returning to my table nearest to the front door, glancing outside the winds were hailing from the east and bringing in the first snow storm of the year. I could see it in the sky, see it in the birds almost wailing... the tree's couldn't be more evident. All the signs were there, so why even bother to look at the weather app that was probably less accurate than me. Bringing out the chair to my table I noticed my book was gone. My eyes dashed around the surrounding table area, I even began looking underneath the table.

"Looking for this?" A sultry and thick voice from behind caused my skin to elude with goosebumps. They ran from the scalp of my tight and sleek braid, taking Godspeed down my spine and to my toes... blood rushing just like that. Gripping the edge of the table I once sat at, I swiftly turn around to give the sultry voice a face. A bit taller than me, caramel brown skin, and perfectly arched eyebrows... needless to say he was extremely attractive.

"Yes. Thank you." I softly said reaching for the book, his persistent grip on the book told me it wasn't going to be that easy.

His eyes scrolled my face and my chest, back to the depth of my iris, I could tell my pupils just dilated from such a long eye contact interaction with him. "He isn't going to live long, save yourself the read. That is if you're afraid of disappointment."

Sultry and thick has read this before? Did I just give him a nickname based off of his beautiful tone of voice. "Excuse me but anyone who spoils a good story should know better than not to." And with the fire in my voice I took my book back finally.

"Good story? I guess to each his own. Jennifer really made this her last piece of work and it shows." He voices and wipes a smirk across his face.

"To each his own right?" I faintly said, returning to my seat and turning my back to him. I felt him still in my presence and found it difficult to return to reading my book.

"My name is Jasper Flemming." His hand snaked around my body and into arms length as he openly took the seat across from me. "And you are?"

"No name." I replied, hesitantly shaking his hand.

"Well no name... I hope I can get your name by the time I leave you to your reading, of course unless I am not welcomed to sit with you any longer." Jasper, sultry and thick said to me. I couldn't exactly decide if I wanted him in my presence. Sure he liked Jennifer's work and was attractive but that was so surfaced leveled. I found myself to be such a private person, I am not an open book and I peel like an onion. There's so many layers to little ole' me... he probably can't handle that.

"I'd actually would like to continue reading-"

"He dies, leaves his inheritance to only Garret, not Tracy." Sultry and thick just did it for me.

My aura was released instantly in my piercing glare at Jasper. "Why would you say that? I was almost done."

"What if a meteoroid crashed onto earth and killed us all.. or a car came head on into the shop and killed us both, at least you knew the ending to your so called 'good story'. "

"That's your sorry justification for ruining a book for someone you don't even know? You can leave." I say a bit frustrated, not allowing his ignorance to hinder my reading of the day.

"It is my justification. Why don't I make it up to you no name? We can take a walk around central, indulge in a hotdog or two... stare at nature, and talk about what our dreams?" Jasper suggested, as my eyes continue to dance along the pages of my story.

Oh sultry and thick..."Is this your idea of a first date?"

"No, I'm not a simple guy. I wouldn't even let you know what my idea of a first date is. You'd know when the date started. I have so many complex ideas and insights about life and relationships it would take trips around the sun to complete no name... I sense you're still upset with my for ruining your read." He chuckles, not letting up. He was extremely persistent, couldn't take a hint, couldn't say no, a little prideful at that.

"Complex." I repeat.

"C-o-m-p-l-"

"I know how to spell it." I said, closing my book and looking up to meet his eyes finally. "Why do you want to go to central park, eat a hotdog, gawk at nature, and talk about dreams?" I repeated. Curious to know his response. Every dream I've ever had has never been spoken... always painted and mostly a fantasy.

"To get to know you. I've never seen you here. I get coffee here every morning before heading to my office in Chelsea. Wanted to welcome a new face to a homey coffee shop." He shrugged effortlessly. "In fact I saw you when you first walked in and even noticed you spilled your coffee."

Observant aren't you sultry and thick. Still hesitant and nervous to accept his seeming to be harmless second meeting I shyly remove a pen from my purse and begin to write my number onto a napkin on the table. Sliding it across the table to he takes it into his palm and fumbles it into the pocket of his jacket. "Did that feed your ego enough today?"

He chuckled, ignoring my joke. "I just wanna be on first name basis with you...that's the goal currently."

"The goal currently." So what's the end goal thick and sultry?

"Yes, I'll be calling you no name. Don't go ghost on me please?" His voice wasn't too promising on if he cared if I answered his phone call or not but I didn't want to give him the benefit of the doubt either. His posture straightened as he stood up from his chair, tucking it in and extending his hand out. I noticed a tattoo on the inside of his hand that read carpe diem. Seize the day. He had to have seen me glance at it. "Seize the day."

"I will." My eyes fluttered and I shook his hand, his presence leaving me cold and eerie. A feeling too cold for me to fathom I don't even know if it was real. Was I seeing things again, or was this real. My bones tensed up and I couldn't focus on picking up where I left off. Something in my spirit was telling me he wasn't real. I was having a vision and needed to go home and paint... release every emotion and feeling into my artwork. If thick and sultry calls me sometime today or tomorrow I'll know he's real. I'll know it wasn't my mind playing tricks on me... I'll know I wasn't seeing ghosts again.