Hello Stranger, I'm a Disaster

The chilly air bit at my nose as I walked down the dark street with my hands tucked in my pockets. Each breath of air I released formed a cloud outside my mouth. As I turned the corner I glanced up to look at an empty coffee shop. Of course it would be closed at this hour, but I couldn't help but hope I would be lucky enough to find that it was open.

I walked past the coffee shop and continued on to my apartment building. After another five minutes I was ascending the stairs and pulling my keys out of my pocket. When I unlocked my door the only sound to be heard was the jingle of metal clanging together. I entered my apartment and crossed the black room to the kitchen. In a cupboard I found a white bottle of pills and a glass. I filled the glass with water and retreated into my bedroom.

I kicked off my shoes and pushed them to a corner of my room. Then I unbuttoned my pant and slid them off, disposing them on the floor. I sat on my bed and opened the bottle of pills. In one swift movement I dumped several pills into my mouth and took a drink of my water. I set the glass down and laid back in bed as my mind fell into darkness.

I opened my eyes and found myself staring into blinding white light. I blinked a few times and my bedroom came into focus. Fuck. That stunt last night was supposed to work, but it obviously didn’t.

“I shouldn’t fucking be here” I said to the air. I sighed and crawled out of bed, dragging my feet all the way to the bathroom. I turned on the faucet and splashed my face with cold water.

The reflection in the mirror showed me a man with pale white skin. My black hair was a stark contrast against my face. It clung to my cheeks and neck while standing straight up at the top of my head. The flesh around my eyes had a sallow purple tint to it. I turned away from the mirror and returned to my bedroom. I found a clean pair of jeans and a fresh shirt in the pile of clothes on my floor.

At least I didn’t have to work today. It was my first day off in weeks. I grabbed my sketchbook and left my apartment. I was going to spend the day at the coffee shop.

A bell gave a ding, announcing my presence in the coffee shop. The guy standing behind the counter looked up with a smile on his face. I approached the counter and studied the menu, deciding what I wanted to order. I settled on ordering a hazelnut mocha. I fished a few bills out of my pocket and the barista took them before turning around to make my order.

As I watched him make my coffee I noticed the artwork that was tattooed on the barista’s arms. He turned back around to give me my drink.

“Thank you” I mumbled glancing down at the nametag on the baristas shirt, “Frank.”

Frank gave me a smile and replied with “You’re welcome.”

I sat down at a table, positioning myself so I could watch the barista named Frank with the tattoos. I opened my sketchbook and began doodling absentmindedly, glancing up every so often to catch a glimpse of him.

I got carried away with my sketch, my mind completely checked out. I was startled when someone set a cup on the table in front of me. I looked up to find the tattooed barista standing next to my table.

“Hey,” he pushed the cup forward. “I noticed you’ve been sitting here for quite a while. It looks like you’re working really hard so I thought you might like some more coffee.” He paused before adding “On the house.” He scratched his head and took a step back.

I looked from Frank’s face to the coffee in front of him and back to his face. “Oh. Uh… Thanks.”

Frank stood there like he was waiting for something, so I picked up the cup and put it to my lips, took a small sip, and licked the burning coffee off my lip. “’S good” I mumbled without looking up from the table.

“Hey that’s a cool drawing. Who is it?” Frank pointed at the unfinished sketch in front of me. The figure was skinny, but defined. The arms had faint traces of designs on them but the face and chest were blank.

“Uh,” I hesitated. “I don’t know. I was just sketching.”

“Frank!” a voice from behind the counter shouted at the tattooed barista.

“It’s a good start. Keep at it, I want to see when it’s finished.” He smiled and jogged back behind the counter.

I watched him leave before I closed my sketchbook. I stuck my pencil in the binding and tucked the book underneath my arm. Standing up, I grabbed my coffee. My fingers brushed against a little piece of paper stuck to the opposite side of my cup. Tucked just under the lid was a paper that read “You look like an interesting guy. We should hang out sometime.” Under the message there was a phone number.

I eyed the tattooed barista named Frank with suspicious curiosity. Why did he take random interest in me? How does he think I seem interesting when he’s only seen me sitting by myself in a coffee shop?
I left the building wondering if that note was really meant for me, when my phone started to ring. I fumbled around with it for a moment before finally answering it.

“Hello?” I asked. I forgot to look at the caller ID.

“Hey! Its Mikey, I hope I’m not interrupting your dinner or anything.” I looked at the sky and realized it was starting to get dark. I had spent the whole day in the coffee shop!

“Oh hey Mikey. What’s up?”

“Mom wanted me to tell you that we’re having dinner tomorrow. She wants you to be there.”

Mom wanted me to participate in family dinner? Since when did she care to include me in anything?

Mikey took note of my silence. “Gerard. I want you to come too. We haven too each other in a while.”

I sighed. Yeah, I did miss Mikey. He knew it too. “Alright” I agreed. “I’ll go, but only for you.”

“Great!” I could hear his grin in his voice. “So I’ll come by your place at six?”

“Uh, yeah? Yeah. That will be good.” I always feel awkward making plans with people, even if it’s my brother. We said goodbye and I stuffed my phone back in my pocket. My feet had found the way back to my apartment while I was on the phone with Mikey.

I wasn’t hungry and I had nothing to do so I decided to retire to my bed. I fell asleep without thinking of the coffee cup with the phone number sitting on my kitchen counter.