My Scars

SAMANTHA

Eyes closed, head tilted, I took in the busy smell of my surroundings. It was another Monday, another day filled with empty promises and false hopes.

“I’ll get back to you in a few working days” the stern interviewer from the last place I went looking for a job said.

I sat on the rusty chair of the bus station thinking about the past months, my increasing debts playing in my head, and of course without my consent.

“Why does life have to be this hard!” I retorted, the words escaping my mouth faster than I realized that my thoughts just seeped away from my mind and out my mouth.

I got a few weird stares but soon enough everyone moved on with their lives. I looked ahead and saw the bus some meters away from me, First stop was my favorite coffee shop.

I stood in front of the coffee shop for a few seconds, like I hadn't been there before. It was like everything around me felt alien or maybe my head was just playing a number on me.

With a sigh, I slipped into the familiar warmth of the shop, the scent of freshly brewed coffee beans enveloping my nostrils.

I took a glance at my corner seat and then walked to the counter to place my order. “Morning Miss Silvia” I greeted the middle-aged woman that owns the shop. She's known me for years now. Sometimes it feels like I have known her all my life.

“Morning buttercup” as she fondly calls me “The usual?” she asked as she stretched her hand to fetch the disposable cup above the counter.

“Yes, the usual please.”

I stood there to wait for my order to be ready, a part of me scanning my surroundings and taking in as many details as my eyes could fetch.

Normally I should go over to my seat and have her bring it to me like every other customer would, but it makes me uncomfortable to have her serve me.

My order was ready and I turned around, tilting my body in the direction of my corner seat, I instantly regretted not going to my seat to wait for my order to come to me because I looked ahead and found a man neatly dressed in his perfectly tailored suit that lay gorgeously on his perfectly sculpted frame making it look like it was molded onto his skin seated in my seat. My corner seat.

I couldn't see his face because his hair, a deep rich shade of chestnut covered half his facial features drooping in a messy yet meticulously styled manner.

It felt like I had stood too long looking at this man with my cup of coffee in hand as the slight bell-like sound from the front door brought me back to reality.

I sighed and moved to the other seat at the far end wondering how much worse my day could get since the space where I sat to watch life flow around me and meditate was taken.

I sat and took the first sip of my coffee as my thoughts drifted to the next interview I had lined up.

Frankly, I had zero hopes for this one and every slight glint that tried to escape the cracks I shoved aside. I had had my hopes dashed one too many times in the previous months and I was not about to allow my expectations to climb any more ladders.

I sat there with my file lazily lying on the table and slowly allowing my eyes to roam around the room I was seated in. The soft hum of conversations and the rhythmic sounds of cups hitting the table formed a backdrop to my thoughts.

I in careless abandon shook my coffee cup, my gaze drifting toward the window where the city’s constant buzz played out.

A shadow fell over my table, I recognized the pattern of this hair from the shadows I could see on my table.

I slowly took my head up and there he was, the man I had seen from the counter in my seat and in my corner. In split seconds I took in his still half-concealed facial features. Only now I could see one of his eyes which was looking straight at me.

My pulse quickened as my eyes met his cold gaze. “Mind if I sit with you?” His voice was a perfect match for his face and aura, so deep I could almost hear it echo in my head.

Startled but slightly interested, I answered “I think I mind”.

“I don’t think I want to be seated side by side with the person that took my comfort space”.

He raised a brow using his finger to swoop his drooping hair to the side of his ear revealing his glazed gray eyes; one could barely see them cause they seemed to hide behind the drapes of his slightly swollen eyelids.

“It was empty when I got there” he was already making room for himself to sit across from me no longer waiting for me to grant him the permission he initially tried to take.

I couldn't help but notice how much effort he put into his appearance, the attention to detail seemed completely irrelevant in such a carefree space.

“For someone who said I can't sit with her, you seem to be staring a lot” his deep voice brought me back to the present. I immediately felt like a drooling puppy.

His ego was honestly very nauseating.

“I understand, most people tend to look in awe, I look that good”.

I scoffed, “Oh please”.

“Job hunting I see” It was at this point I caught his eyes taking in every characteristic of my very being.

He looked me straight in the eye without fretting and took his eyes to different angles that made it appear like he was zooming in and out. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable in my own seat.

“I don’t think that is any of your business”.