Chap 01 - Spaced Out
The rain drops that fall outside don't really make any difference for her. She likes rain, actually. It makes her calm, to see the world slowing down through drops of water pouring from the sky. Her tea has gone cold half an hour ago and she still holds the paper cup, knowing she won't finish it. The gray from the sky fits her mood. Maybe even her whole life. She has grown used to the color and the feeling that accompanies it. She even dares to say she is comfortable when surrounded by this mixture between black and white, good and evil, happiness and agony. 'Every sweet comes with its sore', she reminds herself - as if she needed something to remind her. The open magazine on the table lies forgotten. Some article about a disaster on the other side of the world on one side, a hit and run on the other page. She feels like it should affect her more, but it doesn't. Her biggest worry at this very moment is what she is going to do with her free time for the next two hours.
She is on vacation, so no classes or big tests to study for and her internship won't start until 2 p.m. She could go to the office, start her article and try to leave early, but really, what would be the point in that? She has never been a sports person, reading doesn't call her attention, she's not close to anyone, except Luke...but he is not the kind of guy with whom you'd have heart a to heart talk on the phone (or a talk on the phone at all) and Kayla, her only friend, that is also an intern with her, would annoy her endlessly.
So she just sits back on the cold, hard chair by the window, watching the sky turn into a darker shade of gray while the transparent drops fall all over the city. She doesn't mind staring out in to nowhere, really. She's been doing it for a long time now.
An hour and a half later she falls out of the rain spell that has been holding her, and looking around notices the time. She closes her unread magazine, sips her tea - just to be reminded it is almost icy cold and she makes a face - and stands up, putting on her heavy coat. She drops the half full paper cup into a trash can by the counter of the café and distractedly heads to the door.
When a heavy cold body bumps into her she can only mumble a "Sorry," before looking up. The guy staring back at her just shrugs and holds her arm, trying to help her balance herself. She steps back, retrieving her arm faster than a blink of an eye, as if his touch burnt. Each of them seems a bit shocked by her reaction, and each lean against the opposite side of the doorway inside the café. He looks taken aback, and his expression does not mask it. He seems like one to speak his mind, and even though he is a stranger, it oddly comforts her.
She whispers "Sorry" again, and he is not sure if it's for her distractedly bumping into him or the way she reacted to his help, so he just shrugs again and she can't help but smile at the ridiculosity of the scene repeating itself just in front of her. He notices the same thing and returns it with a half smile.
Suddenly his face doesn't seem as strange and she could swear she has seen him before. As he walks to a table by the far corner of the small place, the pieces come to place in her mind. He is the weird dark guy who always comes to the café and sits far from everybody else just to drink coffee and read with no disturbance. She doesn't pay much attention to her surroundings or the people around her, but this café has almost been her second home: close enough to work, just a block down from her apartment and has a huge variety of tea. And he goes there just as much as her, she can tell; at least once every couple of days. She has seen him so much out of the corner of her eye in the last couple of years that he has become a familiar face.
She walks the four blocks to the building, steps into the elevator and pushes the button to the 12th floor. The paper thin white walls that separate the desks from one another in the crowded office and the buzzing all over the place make her feel secure and content; invisible. She quickly makes her way to her cubicle and takes of her coat to leave it hanging over an empty chair besides her desk and computer.
She is just sitting down to start a new article when Kayla, her 'friend' who has been working as an intern for just as long as her, appears out of nowhere.
"Hey, Rory. You won't believe what happened to me last night!" she says excitedly before sitting on the chair next to the computer and starst rambling about her life as if Rory was very interested in the subject, "Then he took me to this delicious Tai restaurant and we started talking, and you know when you just connect with someone? When you look to the guy and it's like he can just read you and you wouldn't mind sharing a cab back to your apartment?"
Rory stops typing furiously like she has been since the beginning of the conversation and looks at the girl before her with a face of indifference, "No," she answers and goes back to her typing.
The other girl sighs loudly and dramatically, resting her head on her hands, looks at her friend. "You know, I don't think I've ever heard you talking about any guy in your life," she comments.
Rory just ignores Kayla, and keeps typing just as fast.
"Maybe that's what's wrong with you! You should go on a date," she suggests with a glint of excitement. Kayla is always like that, a good looking bimbo who apparently knows nothing about life. Pretty shallow about just everything and very dumb at times, but she can easily get excited about anything. She's a good girl deep down, Rory believes, but all her futility makes it really hard to actually see it.
"There are a lot of things that are wrong with me, but I don't think that's one of them," Rory replies, not looking up.
"If you are worried because you don't know anyone in the city, I know many guys that would be very willing to go out with a girl like you," she insists, looking Rory up and down to make her point even more obvious.
Rory groans. How can you tell someone when they are acting beyond obnoxious and not hurt their feeling? Not that she cares all that much about Kayla's feelings, it's just that she is the only person she knows and talks to in this city and the closest (and only!) thing next to a friend that she has.
"Kayla, don't get me wrong, I tolerate you, but I really don't want to talk about my dating life with you. Or anyone, for that matter," she says slowly, in a tone which she hopes is not too be a rude.
But Kayla seems unaffected and oblivious to what Rory really meant to take any offense in what she said. "Well, or your lack of dating life," she points out. Her words are not of anger or meant to provoke, she just wants to make a point and convince her friend to go out and have some fun. "Really, you're a hot chick, but if you keep up with this whole 'I'm difficult' pose, not many guys will stick around for long."
Rory sights, tired of this useless conversation and stands up, "I'm gonna say this for the last time and please, try to get it. Take notes if you have to: I don't do dates! Stop trying to hook me up with your loser friends and just leave me alone!" She grabs her coat again and leaves her cubicle, heading straight for the elevators.
"You just got here," Kayla screams from the chair, but no one besides Rory seems to notice it, in the busy and noisy office.
"It seems I'll be working late tonight," is Rory's only response as she enters the elevator.