When Beginnings End

I push the door open and walk straight up to the desk. I've never been here before, but I've seen it from the outside a million times. I've walked by this place every day since I was 15. Maybe 14.

“One moment, sir,” the waiter says and writes something down in his book. I look over at the tables. Most of them are empty.
“Yes, how may I help you?” I look up at the waiter and see him smiling cockily. I smile back weakly – and fake.

“I would like a table, please.” I don't even ask for it; I simply demand it in a polite tone of voice.

“Surely. When would you want it?”

“Now.” I don't smile. I give him a stiff stare as he looks at me oddly; as if I'm a total nut-case.

“I'm sorry, sir, but you'll need a reservation.”

“There are several empty tables,” I say loudly.
“I won't be long.”
He frowns at me. He knows I'm right and he's annoyed. I don't care one fucking bit.

“Very well,” he simply says, grabs a menu and walks away from me. I follow him to a booth where I sit down. He clearly snorts, puffing through his nose, before leaving me. I look over the menu, even though I already know what I want. It's expensive.

“Hello there.” I look up.
“My name is Gerard and I'll be your waiter. Would you like something to drink while you decide on your food?” he asks. His voice is giddy. He must really love his job. I envy him for everything.

“I would like a steak.” Gerard looks surprised.
“And a glass of water,” I add, trying to make the situation more...normal.
Gerard nods.

“I will be right back,” he says, turns around and leaves. He doesn't even take my menu. I guess he thinks I might want to order more.
I put the menu down on the table and start fiddling with the white napkin on my plate. I tear off a little piece and carelessly flip it off. It doesn't go very far. It lands on the table. I can feel the head waiter scowl at me.

“Here you go,” Gerard says and places a glass of water in front of me. I smile up at him, completely unmotivated, and to my surprise, he smiles back.

As I eat my steak, drink my water and stare at Gerard talking to the bartender, I pity myself for not having come in here sooner. Gerard is not only hot, but also friendly and kind and considerate and... a lot of thing, I'm sure. I could've known so much about him, had I only come in here sooner.
I could have fallen in love.

Before I eat the last bit of my steak, I get up and go to the bathroom. I walk past Gerard on my way, and I smile at him. He's just a kind of person you can't help but smile at. He's just so...inviting.
He smiles back.

I enter a stall and manage to avoid seeing myself in any of the mirrors in the men's room. If I saw myself, it would only ruin my good mood. If I saw myself, I wouldn't die happily.

I pull the sharp steak knife out of my sleeve and flip the toilet seat up. I picked this restaurant because it's so vacant all the time. I picked the steak, because I know steak knives are always sharp – I'm actually a vegetarian. I picked killing myself in a fancy restaurant, because their knives are a lot sharper, especially than my own – and besides, they need something to do.

I get down on my knees, place my wrist over the bowl and cut.
It hurts. Sharp pains shoot up and down my arm, into my shoulder and head. I can feel the pain in my knees and toes, but I can't feel my fingers.
I cut again, and this time, it hurts less. All I really feel is a tug as my own veins and skin tries to stay intact. I feel a shock wave run up my arm as a nerve or a vein gives in and breaks.

I look down. All the blood is streaming into the bowl; surprisingly little of it squirts onto the floor and wall. It looks beautiful.
It all gets blurry. The lights get brighter and the sounds fade away. I smile.
He smiled at me.