Different IRL

Chapter 6

I whirl around and sigh in relief as I watch her run toward me, a large art portfolio case swinging in her hand. Her other hand waves at me. She looks proud. Her masterpiece must be complete. She slows to a walk when she spies Alex, a grin lifting her mouth. She knows she's saving me. Sidling up, she's a little out of breath and breathes her hello choosing to ignore Alex. Interesting.

"It's finished," she holds up the case.

"Lemme see," I demand. I don't really want to see it. Please don't let it look too scary.

Kiki gestures to a table situated outside of the coffee shop and plops her portfolio down, fully aware Alex is tagging along. The case is unfolded and opens to the sun where her work is displayed in all of its grotesque glory. I glance around to ensure no children are about. Thank goodness there are none. Her work is the stuff of nightmares.

This is not the normal grim reaper I thought she was working on. In fact, it's not a reaper at all! It's a demon. A horrible and scary demon, devoid of facial features save sharp canines and jagged incisors wrapped in stretched leathery skin reminiscent of cracked beef jerky, stares back at me even though it has no eyes. Long black, skinny horns appear to burst angry from the demon's skull stretching so high they curve. The creature is screaming in pain. I know it's pain because the background color is a hazy red Kiki has managed to make look like smoke. I've never seen red smoke before today, and I've never been so happy this painting is merely a head shot. I fear for what the rest of the body must look like.

"This. Is fucking amazing," Alex whispers in awe.

Kiki smiles, but her eyes remain on her work.

"You did this?" He turns to look at her amazed.

"Yup. Imma horror artist. It's for sale," she nudges him.

"Dude, I know someone who'll buy this in a heart beat."

"Oh, thank God," I can't help but chime in.

Kiki laughs at my relief, but I'm serious. Having horror art from movies on the wall is one thing, but Kiki's imagination is a bit much for me. Who the heck would want this thing?

"My work don't come cheap. But because this didn't take me too long, I'll say six hundred," she shrugs.

"I'll let him know. Hey, I wanted to ask you something."

And this is my cue. Time to get back on track. I still want my coffee, and I still want to find a job. I bid Kiki and Alex farewell and head on my way. I'm so glad Kiki may have a buyer for her new piece. That thing really disturbs me.

Once inside the coffee shop, I head to the line with a frown. There's always a line whenever I go into these places. Every time. That's okay. It's not like I have any place I need to be aside from my job hunting plan. They're not hiring here. That's probably a good thing. I'd spend all my earnings on drinks.

The bell above the door dings with yet another customer, but I don't bother to turn around because that's weird. Instead, I focus my attention on the menu posted on the back wall. I don't know what I want. Initially, I had wanted an autumn drink but now I kinda want a mocha latte. Why am I so boring?

"Hello, Luna."

Soft breath whispers into my hair, and I nearly jump out of my skin. My eyes grow large. I know that voice. I've only heard one sentence from his lips, but I could never forget the deep timber of his vocal cords.

"He...hello," I manage to squeak out much to my dismay as I slowly turn to face him.

I swallow hard as I drink him in. His gray eyes are smiling at me, but his full lips remain relaxed. He's dressed in black which must be his Modus Operandi. The only thing different from last night is his footwear. He isn't wearing black boots today but, rather, black Vans. We have the same shoes on. Well, not exactly the same. Mine are pink. But, still, the same brand. His eyes follow mine, and a smirk lifts his lips. He crosses his arms. I can't help it and notice his biceps straining against his jacket. Not gonna lie, I want to touch them. Who wouldn't?

"What's your drink of choice?" he asks.

He wants to know my drink of choice? Oh God, oh God, oh God. What is it? What's my drink of choice?! Someone tell me MY. DRINK. OF. CHOICE! I forgot. A groan is released inside of my mind. My brain is dead. Absolutely dead.

"Water," I whisper.

It's then I hear it. I would bet everything I have in my checking account, which is practically nothing, that not many people get to hear it. Not sure how I feel like I know this, but I'm pretty sure I'm right. His laugh. It's a deep rumble that gives way to straight, white teeth which fit his face perfectly. A dimple appears. But as fast as I am graced with this beautiful moment, it's quickly composed.

"Let me get this straight. You've come to Starbucks...for water?"

"N...no. I'm getting a mocha...latte." Duh. Should I slap my head or just think about slapping my head? No, I'll think about pounding my head against the wall and act upon it once I get home. How awkward and cringe worthy can I get?

"I see," he smiles. "I ran into your friend and Alex on the way in."

I nod.

"She's quite the artist."

Again I agree, and am grateful it's my turn in line and place my order. It's while I'm ordering that I overhear a girl come up to Shy and try to talk with him. I can't exactly hear what they're saying because I'm trying to multitask and order at the same time. High pitch tones, then low tones are exchanged. Hmm. 

Quickly, I finish my business and move out of the way over to the side where the straw and stir sticks are set up. I'll stand over here and hope that I'm now out of sight. Who am I kidding? I'm in plain sight. He glances my way while the girl stands nearly on top of him chirping away. Is that his girlfriend? She's very pretty with chocolate brown hair, big brown eyes and legs for miles.

This is the type of girl I am not. I look down at myself. My chest is way too big for my petite body. My legs are too skinny, and I don't have a lot of junk in the trunk. I'm also kind of short at five foot four inches. How Kiki thinks I'm gorgeous is beyond me. I'm just...normal? I don't know. Releasing a sigh, I grab my drink after hearing my name called and bolt out of the coffee shop as fast as my sticks can carry me. I want to go home. I can look for a job tomorrow.

Unsure as to why I'm so upset by the exchange that just occurred, I hurry my steps. Actually, I do know why. Deep down, it's jealousy. Why can't I be as confident and beautiful as the girl chatting it up with Shy? It was so easy for her. And why did he even bother talking to me? This is why I stay to myself. This is why I like snuggling into the covers of my bed and watching anime or reading a good book or writing. In fact, that's what I'm going to do when I get home. I'm going to go right back to bed with my hot drink and play on my computer. My steps lighten and I smile. Come to think of it, it's been a while since I've played some of my games. I should do that. I need to check in and collect my daily prize. AnimeSpeak, here I come!