I See You

I opened the glass door to the diner, and stumbled in. Three in the morning is far too early to eat breakfast, but after not eating dinner…I was ready to break the meal time regularity.

I saw the blonde girl at the counter. She was leaning on her elbows, hair a mess but up in a sleek pony tail, looking disdainfully at the group of customers near the front. I walked, swaying slightly from low blood sugar and lack of sleep, up to the off-white counter. The girl looked over at me a little, for I happened to stand a few inches from her turned head, and raised an eyebrow.

I didn’t blame her. A gray beanie was over my mess of black, sloppily curled, hair. A pair of lime green shades covered my tired eyes and I wore a hoodie over a Green Day shirt. My tattered black skinnies were almost frayed off and my converse were hanging on for dear life. I looked slightly homeless, and technically I was. The bus wasn’t a home, and I was exhausted.

“May I help you?” She asked…kindly. Kindly. At three-fucking-AM this girl was kind.

“Coffee. And…oh I don’t know…what’s good to eat here?” I asked, sounding extremely confused.

“Good? Well, I’m supposed to say everything but the best is the fried dough.” She explained in a bored tone.

“Alright. Coffee and two fried doughs.” I smiled. She gave me one back, a small one, and disappeared for a few seconds.

“What would you like in your coffee?” She asked when she came back out from the kitchen, and poured the black liquid into a white mug.

“Nothing Sweetheart. I’m looking for a wake-me-up and I like it strong.” I told her, running a hand over my forehead. She gave me a weird smile but placed the mug in front of me. She disappeared again and came back with two fried doughs. She set the plates down for me. She stood awkwardly to the side. “Thanks Sweetheart.” I gave her a grin.

She smiled at me then looked down, peaking up at me from under her blonde bangs. This girls gorgeous silver, not blue but silver, eyes enraptured me. But I knew how this game was played. Knew what happened.

“What’s your name Sweetheart?” I asked her after I swallowed. I lifted my mug to my lips, and sipped silently as she looked to me fully.

“Kris.” I smiled as she spoke. “Um…you?” She asked unsurely, as if I wouldn’t be nice. I wanted to beat the person who made her think that, in the face.

“Me…” I said bitter-sweetly. I lifted the cap off my head, letting my hair tumble around me fully. Next I slipped the glasses off and looked at her shocked face. “My name’s Charlotte.”

“Oh my…uh…big fan!” She said, slightly breathless. I smirked at her and looked down.

“Thanks…I think I needed that.” I admitted. I popped more dough into my mouth, chewing thoughtfully. I slowed my jaw movements and looked up as I realized she still stared. I swallowed and gave her a prompting look.

“Why?” She whispered, leaning into the counter and resting her head on her hands again. I gave her a slight shocked look, but sighed and set my food down.

“You don’t get it.” I said softly. She furrowed her eyebrows. “This isn’t how The Game is played, Sweetheart.”

“The Game? What about you being helped?” She asked in a sweet, curious, voice. I closed my eyes briefly, and opened them to look into her silver orbs.

“People don’t want to help me. They flirt back, we go out or just chill for a while. They spill their lives, which I don’t mind, and maybe cry a little. They kiss me, we usually make out. Then they leave with a story to tell their friends, and I move on to another city. It’s simple and it never changes.” I sighed.

I hated The Game. All I wanted was a little love. I just wanted to have someone I could need, and I knew that was selfish.

Kris gave me a soft look. “Oh you poor thing.” She cooed. I blinked in surprise at her.

“What?” I asked. Blatantly shocked as I was, she still replied in soft tones.

“You travel around the world, singing your soul to these people. All they want is a piece of you, and there’s not much left.”

“It sounds so stupid. That I’d complain about my dream. That I’d wish for something different.” I shook my head at myself. But delicate fingers brushed my cheek. I froze and let my gaze travel to her stare.

“It’s not stupid. Aren’t you the one who said ‘emotions aren’t stupid only actions are.’? That applies to you too.” She tried to convince.

“Nah, I’m more of a preacher than anything else. I do believe it…I just don’t always follow through.”
I took a sip of coffee then. She picked off a piece of my food, and I gave her an amused grin. She popped the food into her mouth, oblivious to me, and chewed for a few seconds. Once she swallowed, her fingers went back to the food.

“I want to change that.” She said under her breath. I drank the last of my coffee and slid the plate closer to me. Kris’ eyes looked to me, worried and hurt.

“You grab another coffee and join me in a booth, we might just talk this out.” I told her, walking to the far back.

The red felt, high backed, 1950’s style booth gave a feeling of coziness. It was secluded and I found slight comfort in the warmth. I heard shoes hitting the floor and soon the beauty of the night sat down next to me. For a few minutes, we ate and drank in silence.

“May I ask you a question?”

I couldn’t understand why she was so nervous. Why her eyes were slightly scared. She fidgeted and avoided eye contact. Why she was unnaturally pale.

“Yes.” I responded. She bit her lip.

“Why did…why do you hurt so bad?” She asked watery. I turned to her and held her hand in mine. I stared at the contact while I answered.

“I could blame other people. I could blame my parents, who had no idea how to express emotions. I could blame my brother, who hated me for things I didn’t do. Or my abusive ex-boyfriend. Or my old music teacher. But I can really only blame myself. I could have dealt with it. But I chose to escape. I chose to act like this. I chose this. And I hate myself for it.” I confessed.

“But so many love you…” She whispered, eyebrows furrowed.

“They love what I am. Not who I am.”

“That’s not true.” She said, upset by this new found information.

“But it is. My music tells them the what. I’m a depressive, angry, heartbroken little girl. But me as a person…I don’t know that so how could anyone else?” I studied the countertop slightly, fighting against the blackness pumping through my heart.

“Tonight, I see you.” She whispered. Her tone reminded me of frost slipping gracefully from an icicle, but it breathed warmth into every space within my soul. I raised my eyes to hers, she had a expression of pain and…love. I believed her. I don’t think I ever stopped believing her. “I see you.” She whispered again, closing the distance between us. Our lips touched in an icy embrace of fire, and for once in my life I knew I was okay. I knew I would be alright.

Then the diner bell rang. A dull chime that didn’t concern us. Footsteps slapped along the linoleum, and I started to worry as they grew closer. I heard the click. Heard the metallic sounds. Heard him say, “How sweet.” Like poison dripping from flower petals. I pulled back with a gasp, and tried to shift in front of her. The shots rang out, and I felt the metal slice through me. I fell away from her, loosing blood as I sat gasping for air against the seats. I saw the crimson liquid enrich her blonde locks as it splattered from her chest. She fell next to me. “Even better.” The man smoothed, and he punctually walked away.

Kris turned her head to look into my eyes. Sirens blared in the distance, but it was too late. Our blood trickled down our bodies, joining each other in a pool of drained life. Our labored breath swam together. Kris’ tears fell down her pale face. “Don’t be afraid, Sweetheart.” I cooed.

“I’m not. I’m happy. Ev-everyday…they hurt me.” She confessed, causing the clear substance to leak from my eyes. She smiled a cruel smile, blood trickling from her lips. Kris pushed her body towards mine, causing me to respond. Our lips were centimeters apart, and just before she closed the distance, she whispered one last line.

“But tonight I see you.”