AN: So, I could really be messing myself up by doing this, but I really felt the need to write this story before I lost the urge. And now I have twenty chapters planned out, and my other story has twenty chapters as well, so it's a lot to take on. I'm going to try my hardest to be an active Cherry writer, though, because I know some of us need that. :)
I have this new tumblr url: cherryforthesoul(dot)tumblr(dot)com
It's completely Cherry fanfiction, things I like. You can submit requests, or art, whatever you want. :)
Well, I hope you enjoy. The concept is from the show "Lie to Me" and the title is from the song "Totally F***ed" from Spring Awakening.
The restaurant was full and busy and pulsing, and with the clanking of silverware and dishes in his ear, all Mike Chang could do was watch. That's all he's done, for as long as he figured out that he could. Not only did he watch the people pass by him, hardly noticing as he sat with his back against the bar. Legally he wasn't supposed to be sitting at the bar, he was in high school, but he'd talked with the staff numerous times to explain his weekly visits and they decided one chair at the bar, with a soda on the counter, took up less customer space than an entire table with the same soda and senior boy.
He would watch the customers, the staff, the people walking outside in the streets and it was all so intriguing. Ever since Mike had discovered this affinity for "reading people" as he liked to call it, it became easier to hone in on those specific things about the people he chose to observe. He did research and upon discovering micro expressions, he began noticing how is it was to catch them. To catch somebody in the middle of a lie. And that's what he would do here. He would watch, and attempt to establish stories for each person. It was his form of writing, except the words were inscribed on the inside of his skull. He would tend to forget who he had seen, or what significance there expression had held, but there was always somebody that stood out. Like tonight, his eyes had flickered over the happy couples, most with those fake smiles you see on teenagers, and others held more weathered smiles. Those were the ones he appreciated. He would see a split second of tired, and he could tell these people were exhausted, but then he would see genuine happiness. He could tell by the way they talked, by the way their hand held the person's across from them, and by the way their eyes cast downward when they'd received a compliment. It was comforting. And then his eyes landed on a girl, looking his age that he'd never seen before.
As a student of Dalton Academy his range of encounters was usually just the other guys at the school. He didn't go looking for girls like his peers did (or guys in some cases), but it was always refreshing to see feminine features once in a while. Especially that of somebody his own age. Or, he hoped was his own age. He shuffled in his seat as she looked around the restaurant and he could tell she was expecting somebody and had been for awhile if not by her glances, at least by her picking a book up out of her purse and cracking it open. One more simple and confirming gesture and he smiled, he only had once in a while to attempt to get a girl, why not now. He turned around on the barstool and crouched down the slightest bit to view himself in the shiny metal across the bar and to adjust his bright red tie that matched the piping on his navy blazer and pants. He rubbed his hands together, rolled his shoulders, his neck and pulled his jacket together as he stood. He walked to where he would approach her from the front, less intimidating, he'd come to learn. He leaned his head forward, eyebrows raised, showing interest when he spoke to her from across the table.
"Who are you waiting on?" He asked with concern and he could see the quick flash of interest in her own eyes, and across her features before she ducked her head low behind the book.
"I don't see why that's any of your concern." She spoke flatly, her eyes having the hardest time keeping from peeking over the tops of the pages.
"Ah, so you are waiting for somebody," he stated with a small smile. She lowered her book and looked at him questioningly. His suspicions were confirmed with her avoiding the question altogether.
"Actually, no, I'm not." She replied and had it not been for the small shrug of her shoulder as she said that, he probably would have believed her. It was a motion that was subconscious and she probably just saw it as adjusting in her seat, but he didn't. He laughed softly and carefully pulled the chair out across from her, to which she showed no objection as he sat down.
"Now, let me get this straight," he said, looking at the cover of her book that was hiding her eyes. "You show up to a restaurant, at a table for two, look around, pull out a book, impatiently tap your finger on the cover and then attempt to tell me my accusations are false. You really should get better at this." He stated. Now, Rachel wasn't sure why she couldn't talking to the stranger, but something about him was endearing. Maybe it was the way his eyes stayed focused on the features of her face, or the way his arms fit nicely into the sleeves of his uniform. Either way, though she didn't know his name, it was better than sitting alone or huffing about it and going home.
"Get better at what, exactly?" She said, face hidden, and he wished she didn't do that because that made it a little more difficult than necessary.
"Lying." He said bluntly and that seemed to catch her attention, because her book snapped shut and she glared forward, eyebrows furrowed and lips in a tight line. "Anger, seen that one before," he said casually.
"I'll have you know I was not-" She started but was cut off.
"What? Not reading a Sarah Dessen book to forget you had a date tonight?" She crossed her arms across her chest and his grin just widened, because she was just making it easier for him.
"Defensive, are we?" He asked and then before she could speak he retorted. "Now, before you ask me who I am, or you reject me completely for being an obnoxious douche, let me take a whack at it, okay?" He saw the slight nod, to which he took as a yes, though she might not have even realized she did it.
"Now, you have already confirmed you were waiting for somebody." She opened her mouth to speak and cut her off once more. "No, trust me, you did. Now, it's just a matter of who." He leaned forward on the table and looked at the things placed on the table as well as her attire. "Well, you're dressed nice, meaning you're here to impress. Was it a blind date?" He asked and immediately he saw the universally recognizable expression of disgust. Nose scrunched, brow furrowed, and he knew that answer without her having to speak a word. He could tell the idea of blind dating wasn't something she enjoyed at all, and he found comfort in that.
"Miss." He recorded that and her eyebrows shot up, her eyes widened, and her jaw dropped the slightest bit in surprise for a mere fifth of a second and he chuckled under his breath once more. "What about a girlfriend?" He asked to which she replied.
"Yeah," she said with feigned disappointment that he recognized immediately. "It was a girl's night and she just didn't show." She stated with a small smile that didn't reach the corner of her eyes, maybe to show she wasn't holding anger over it, and her head shook the slightest bit from left to right.
"Wrong again," he retorted. "Had I had you on mute, you would have been deliberately saying no," he smiled and then nodded, coming to a realization, after putting the pieces together of the whole person it could be. "So, it's your boyfriend, then?" He asked and he face dropped, eyes look down and away. Bingo.
"Isn't that kind of a rude thing to do? Stand up your own girlfriend?" He asked, looking for the truth in her face, in her features that had softened since she had nothing to hide in that regard.
"Isn't it kind of rude for you to be invading somebody else's business?" She snapped and pulled the book off the table and pushed it into her bag.
"It's a hobby of mine." He said as if it made the most sense in the world, because to him it did. "And I apologize if I've done anything to offend you. Or, if I was wrong in any of my accusations."
"Well," she paused and looked up to him, meeting those highly observant eyes that there was just something…different about. "You weren't wrong. I just…how did you know?"
"You told me, of course," he said with a warm smile, and he could tell by the way that she leaned forward in her chair, she was genuinely interested.
"I didn't say anything, but…you knew I wasn't telling the truth. What, did you talk to somebody before you came up to me? The host? Because I told him that I was expecting somebody to join me." She said, giving a completely logical explanation to how he knew, but it wasn't the right one.
"You. Told. Me." He repeated slowly with a sly smile. "Maybe not with your lips. But with your hands, your eyes, your entire body," he said and her face looked alarmed, like he'd been checking her out the whole time. "No, no, not in a weird way." He sighed in frustration. "Your body language." He clarified, though there wasn't much to complain about in the other area. Her eyebrows furrowed, as she tried to understand, and there was a quick flutter of her eyelashes, an action done when remembering something and he spoke up once more. "What? What was that? What just crossed your mind?" He asked and she looked up at him once more, confused as to how he knew she was contemplating anything at all.
"I'm an actress. Convincing people that I'm something I'm not is what I'm good at. I'm in all the plays at McKinley, my high school, but how is it that…it just doesn't make any sense. There's no way you should have known those things." She said, trying to justify and give some reasoning to the situation.
"Well, to me, your just like every other card in the deck. Your acting skills don't help your subconscious." He noted. "And I can read your face, just like everybody else's." She rolled her eyes, but smiled widely, catching the play on words.
"Clever."
"You sure think so," he stated, eyes watching the muscles in her face form her delicate smile in a way that didn't necessarily seem like everybody else's.
"So," And she paused. She had full intention to address him by his name, then ask why he'd sat down across from her in the first place, before realizing names hadn't been exchanged. "Um, I didn't catch your name?"
"Mike Chang. I go to Dalton Academy. And you?"
"Oh, you don't already know?" She asked coyly to which he shook his head.
"No, I'm not a mind reader, just a face reader." They both now wore wide smiles, ones that he knew were true and it eased his loneliness if only for the fraction of a second it took her to flash her next micro expression.
"Quinn Fabray," she stated with a sureness that he was positive she thought would convince him. Her posture had straightened, animal print sweater stretching across her chest in a slightly altered way, which he couldn't help but notice, and she had lifted her hand and rotated it just the slightest bit, indicating an unsure tone not otherwise shown.
"Not buying it," he stated with a grin and her shoulders slumped and she let out a heavy sigh, wishing she would have got him.
"Fine. Rachel Berry. And as I have already said, I go to McKinley." At this statement there was no indication of a lie.
"Wait, William McKinley? In Lima?" He asked and she nodded, confused as to why it mattered.
"So, you know Kurt Hummel, Blaine's boyfriend, then?" He asked with a new enthusiasm to which Rachel was surprised to hear from a teenager that had seem so solidified in his emotions.
"Yeah, I do." She confirmed.
"Small world," he said simply reply, catching her eye for a short moment.
"Guess so."
