It was all an interesting coincidence for Lotte. Interesting how that very coincidence ended up saving her life and finding a place she finally belonged, at long last. Growing up she was treated differently from the other children her age. For as long as she could remember it was pricking her finger and shots. She couldn't eat without doing both. Either her mother would have to accompany her to school or she would have to go to the nurse's office for lunch when she was of schooling age. And when necessary, she was permitted to eat in class when she wasn't feeling quite right. Other kids envied that. They picked on her for getting special treatment. And she had always been quite the introvert, so when they picked on her, she'd do what her mother said to and she would ignore them, choosing just not to react. That only made the teasing get worse, though. They wound find every reason to treat her like she was worthless. But that's how kids are when they're miserable. They would always find someone else to take it out on. Someone different that they could find fault with, every time, without fail. And the person those children always chose was Lotte.
You see, Lotte was a type 1 diabetic. And she had practically been born with the disease. She knew she was different from the others. She was very aware of that fact-but what she had to do just felt normal to her. It was something she had to deal with whether she liked it or not. Whether she had friends or not. Her younger sister Lilja had a normal life, unlike her. While her sister was reserved, she had made friends with outgoing people who always included her in things. That was always the difference between the two of them. When Lotte reached her late teens, she was entirely insistent on doing things all by herself without the help of anyone. And even then, when she was honest with herself she never had been taking care of her disease the way she was supposed to because she hated it. She wanted to either not exist or to at least exist without it. At school, no matter what she did she'd never have more than one friend. She'd always be bullied and someone would only be her friend out of pity and eventually she'd reject them. She knew in the end they would betray her anyway.
In short, her life was a struggle for normalcy. She was never normal. She was always the freak to everyone around her. She was always different no matter what she did. And because the hobbies she took to with runes, spells and other occult type things—that only made those bullies scared of her. But who needed them anyway? Who needed people when people only come to hurt you? How dare they. How dare they always hurt and taunt her, and then later act like they didn't know what they were doing! Even her own family was guilty of such things! Some nights she'd just spend alone in her room, cursing people. Nothing big, of course—she wouldn't be able to handle a death on her hands. Just little things. Misplaced objects. Tripping people. Making them late to where ever they needed to be. Her magic that she practiced was always childish pranks, despite her ill will and spite towards people. Perhaps she was too soft, despite how hard-hearted and distant she had become.
And that's why she left her home as soon as she finished her pointless schooling. She didn't know what direction she wanted to take in her life. She knew things would be costly, which is why she was quick to get into a job, not breathing a word about her disease at all to her boss. She just did her work. Bought supplies she needed to get by, fed herself, and lived in a little apartment, as it was all she was able to afford by herself. And to a degree, she didn't care. Life was difficult, yes. Especially working as a server for a local restaurant, but as long as she faked a smile and pretended to care about someone's day she was able to make good enough tips to get by.
Yes, this scrounging by, mundane life suited her just fine. In her spare time she studied the occult that she had taken such an interest in. Her sister would call her from time to time, but she never felt like picking up. Originally she had, but it was always the same message every time.
"Lotte, please come home."
"Lotte, why won't you talk to me anymore? We're sisters, right? Please pick up."
"I want to talk to you."
The problem was that Lotte didn't want to talk to her sister. Her perfect beautiful little sister who had friends and had a life and whom her parents showed every ounce of their affection to. Perhaps she'd doted on Lilja too much when they were growing up…If she hadn't, maybe she wouldn't have something still reminding her constantly of how much of a burden and an outcast she had always been. Curled up in her apartment in a t-shirt and sweats she listened to another voicemail from her sister trying to contact her. It's not like it mattered-she was disinterested in anything 'Little Miss Perfect' had to say to her anymore. With her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, she laid back on the carpet, opening up her book on trolls and other mythical beasts from folklore and where they resided. The sun had set and she had work again bright and early the next day.
So for now, she decided to take time to herself and get lost in the fantasies of these creatures…their creation and how they were permitted to live isolated…isolated from humans, much like her nowadays. Some creatures pretended to be human and would feign human skin…perhaps that was how she was too. After all, she pretended she was human for work. No problems, always pretending to be happy and like nothing is wrong with her or the rest of the world for that matter. And people were so utterly stupid that they couldn't see the darkness at her feet. They could never see the shadow that looms over her. Even those humans who had shadows…they were always just selfish and cruel—far too caught up with themselves to notice. They were ignorant. Every last one of them. And she hated humans because of it.
"Humans are the worst…" she mumbled to herself reading about the creatures she so admired and related to. "Perhaps…I was just born in the wrong skin. And that's why something's wrong with this body." She was silent for a moment longer blissfully reading a couple more sentences before glancing at the clock and shutting the book. She gave a light sigh, as it was time for bed. She needed the sleep so she wouldn't be tempted to commit murder at work once all the dumbass early birds came in. She hated them the most. All the men would flirt with her and she always had to maintain a smile and endure the harassment and joviality of them. Women typically didn't show up until lunch and all of them were vindictive and just pretending to like each other. And then they'd bitch if one little detail of their order was done wrong. Once dinner rush would start, all the families would show up and she hated the kids. They'd always make far more of a mess than she thought possible with the few things that ever reached the table. Another day to look forward to. And the humans she forced herself to serve and interact with would always be the same.
Of course, even after laying down and falling asleep, she woke up more times than she wanted to. Her body would always wake her with something feeling off no matter what she did to keep herself under control. She was fine during the day, but overnight her blood sugar either dropped or raised to where she'd end up in the bathroom three times at any point in the night. This time it was the latter of the two and due to that she was as irritated as ever when her alarm went off at five in the morning. But they opened at 7, meaning she had to be there at 6:30. So she had to get up, take a shower, and walk the two blocks to work.
She was prompt, as usual and as soon as she walked in the door she stowed her personal items and put on her uniform and set the tables to get ready for the day. The sky was cloudy as the sun was beginning to rise, and the forecast said it was possible for a light rainstorm to hit around the time she was off. She didn't mind the rain however, as long as she wasn't drenched. Within a few more moments, the usual before-work-breakfast-crowd came in. Most of them were regulars. They dined in groups with separate checks. Simple enough. However, this time there was a new customer. Not a lot of new faces ever showed up in this diner, as much as Kongsberg got new people working in neighboring areas. He walked in and took a seat like everyone else, wearing a lab coat. So he was either a doctor or some type of lab science worker…but the oddest thing about him had to be his hair. Some of it was standing straight up like it had no sense of gravity! He'd probably just used hair gel to make himself look 'cool' like that though. Men tended to do ridiculous things like that, when actually it just made them look stupid. Nonetheless, Lotte walked over and gave him a menu, feigning a smile as she did with all of the customers.
"Welcome! Here's a menu for you." she gently set it on the table. "May I get you something to drink, sir?" she asked. It was standard procedure. Greeting, give them a menu, ask for a drink order, and so on.
"Ah—um…" he paused a moment, searching the menu for the drinks available.
"Is this your first time dining here?" she asked him.
"Oh, could you tell?" he smiled faintly at her.
"Well I can't say I've seen you before, and many of our customers are regulars. If I could recommend something to you, the coffee here is actually very good." Just doing her job, even though she sounded far nicer and sweeter than she actually felt deep down. Sometimes the way she had to play pretend like this made her want to gag.
"Hmm, well a coffee sounds nice, actually. I'll have one, if you don't mind." He gave her a charming smile which really made her want to vomit more than her acting itself did. But she had to be polite. Had to fit in with the humans no matter how terrible they were deep down.
"Very well. I'll get you one—oh, and the cream and sugar is on the table. Please let me know when you're ready to order." And with a courteous smile, she walked back behind the counter and prepared a coffee. Her coworker, Ingrid was taking care of orders from her other table at the moment, so she was able to go directly back to the new customer with his coffee.
"Here's your coffee, sir. Were you ready to order?" she questioned, prepared to turn and go check on a larger party.
"Thank you very much~" he chimed, taking a sip. "Oh—I was wondering…you have these two breakfast specials, but I'm having trouble choosing between them. What would you recommend between the two?" he asked, pointing at the two different menu items.
"Between those two items, that one" she pointed to the first most item he was considering, "is the most popular with our regulars, while this one," she pointed to the second item, "is one I personally prefer."
"Ah, well isn't that a tough decision!" he mused. "Well, I think I trust your judgment since this coffee is great, just like you said! I'll do the second one." Something about this guy was beginning to tick her off. Maybe it was the fact he seemed so enthusiastic this early in the morning. But she wrote down his order and told him she would bring it out when it was ready. Like the rest of the customers, he enjoyed his food, paid, left a tip and went off to work. But as she was clearing the table he had been sitting at, she found a note.
"Thank you very much for the great meal and service. I look forward to coming back here as often as time allows.
-M. K."
Weird. Normally people didn't leave notes like this. But maybe the guy was just stupid enough to actually be kind somewhere within that ridiculous hair style. It didn't really matter though. There were other things to do if Lotte had any hope of making good money to continue surviving the way she had been this long.
The rest of the day was average, though it slowed down just after the dinner rush started. Apparently that light rain that was forecast became heavy rain instead…and of course not anticipating it to really begin pouring down, the young Norwegian woman hadn't brought her umbrella along. Ingrid had a double shift today, so it wasn't like she could ask her to walk her home. Once her shift was over, she pulled her luck rune from her bag and gripped it tight in her hand as she left in her warm clothing. The walkway was completely drenched and slippery, but thanks to her charm she wasn't tripping and falling in her high-heels. However, the wind began to pick up, blowing hard enough to where this weather would likely knock her over. It seemed like her luck was running out as she was barely reaching the end of one block with another one to walk through to her apartment complex. And she'd have to climb the stairs, with her room being on the second floor. Just great, as slippery as the ground had gotten. She was determined to push through, but as she crossed the street she finally slipped and fell, drenching her clothing. Just when she thought it couldn't get any worse, a car was coming. Fantastic, how her luck had gone so rapidly. She quickly attempted to stand to her feet but couldn't get up fast enough with her shoes. Taking them off and moving back to the sidewalk, she was surprised to see the car stop and pull off to the side. Who in their right mind did that and rolled down their window in the middle of a rainstorm?!
"I thought that might have been you! I suppose you were walking home from work in this weather?" a voice asked. Upon closer inspection it was the newcomer from the diner earlier that day. Great. A weirdo was trying to do her some service. He'd likely expect something in return, so rather than talking to him or anything else she elected to keep walking.
"H-hey, wait up! I saw you fall just now you know! You really shouldn't be walking out in this weather or you'll catch a cold!" he got out of his car and began following her. "Wait, what I'm trying to say is-" he grabbed her shoulder, turning her around. "I'm sorry for being rough, but you're drenched and it looks like you've hurt yourself since you're limping. Please allow me to help you get to your house." He was giving a sympathetic glance.
Oh god that was it. What an idiot. She could take care of herself! And that look he was giving reminded her of all her so-called friends in the past that ended up just using her and making her out to be a joke. A cold-hearted beast that didn't function like normal humans. She wasn't at work, so she didn't have to play nice with him now.
"Leave me alone." Her voice had a light shakiness to it—probably from the chill she was getting now, however firm her words came out. "I don't want your help, I'm fine." her statement was cold and distant, and she was disgusted by the fact he'd touched her. She began walking quickly away from him, only to begin to really notice the limp she currently had. Ignoring it, she tried to take a few more steps with her cold limbs pushing forward with adrenaline while she could hear that guy trying to stop her again. Ha! Dumbass. She didn't need his help—
Slip. Scrrrrrrrrrrrraaaaaaaaaaaape.
She fell again, this time scraping her knees and right leg. And of course the idiot man caught up to her.
"I was trying to tell you that you hurt yourself! And now you've really done it, haven't you?" he pressed, looking more serious than he had before.
"I-I'm fine…I can still get up by my…" she tried to stand but instead quietly winced at the pain.
"Now isn't a time to be stubborn, you know. Here," he held out his hand to her, "let me help you stand. I'll take you home and we'll patch you up, all right?" Lotte glared up at him, but reluctantly took his hand and allowed him to help her back to his car. Once he got her in and buckled up, he got into the driver's seat and turned the heater on. "All right, if you were walking your place can't be far. Which way?"
The drenched blonde woman pointed down the street. "That way. White apartment complex. Second floor, room number 13." She muttered irritably, while shivering slightly.
"Got it." His expression softened and he drove to the place she instructed. Once they arrived she parked and they sat in his vehicle a moment. It was quiet between them, but of course it wouldn't stay that way for long.
"…Thank you for driving me. I can take care of the rest myself." Lotte told him bluntly.
"Are you honestly that stubborn and proud to where you can't accept a little bit of help?" he raised an eyebrow at her.
"You're one to talk when you act like you know everything." She hissed.
"You were so much nicer at the diner, too…" he seemed to whine. "Well I suppose if nothing can be done-" he cut himself off and stepped out of the car, going around to her side and opening the door. Unbuckling her seat belt and ignoring her complaints about personal space, he lifted her up, shut the car and locked it, carrying her up the stairs while she began to hit him and demand for him to put her down. He somehow managed to steal the key from her bag and get her inside, but once he set her down she was completely infuriated.
"You have some nerve…" she growled.
"I'm just trying to help, okay?" he tried to reason with her.
"And why the HELL should I trust you? You're practically a stranger and I don't know a thing about you, much less your name!" it was clear that she wanted him to leave.
"Fine, my name is Mathias. Mathias Køhler. I work as a laboratory assistant at Novo Nordisk in Rud and my mission in life is to help people. Now you know me, how about you introduce yourself and tell me where I can find a towel and a first aid kit for you."
"…My name is Lotte Nilsen. That's all you need to know about me. First aid kit is in the kitchen over there, towels are in the small linen closet outside the bedroom." She averted her eyes, clearly looking unhappy with the situation, but figuring that if worst came to worse she could always kick his ass and kick him out.
"Nice to meet you, too." He stated sarcastically. "And I'll be right back." He scurried around her apartment, first grabbing a towel and placing it around her shoulders. He was sure to try and dry her off and warm her up with it the best he could without making her more uncomfortable. Next he returned with the first aid kit, inspecting the scrapes on her knees and legs, cleaning them up with rubbing alcohol and wrapping them with gauze while avoiding wrapping the torn fabric of her leggings.
"There, you helped. Get out." She told him.
"You could say 'thank you' you know." He sighed. "Whatever, you're welcome."
"Thanks. Now leave." She gave him a merciless glare.
"I'll be leaving, then." He stated to her, pretty much feeling like shit for trying to be kind.
As Mathias turned to leave, he thought to himself that helping her turned out to be a waste of time because she was so closed off and rude toward him, but just as he opened the door and was about to step out, he heard a thud behind him. Stopping himself he turned around to see that Lotte had fallen to the ground, looking like she had passed out. Unsure of himself he turned around, shut the door and carefully walked over to her, pulling her into his arms shaking her gently to see if she was all right. If she was playing him then he was going to be upset that his charity was being taken further for granted. But she didn't wake or respond.
"Hey…hey, Lotte…this isn't a joke right? Are…you all right?" with no response again, he checked for pockets to see if maybe she had some kind of medication, but not finding anything on her person he nervously peeked into her purse. As he searched it, he saw things he was all too familiar with—diabetic equipment.
'Oh great…' he thought to himself. Searching a bit further, he found a glucagon shot and quickly prepped a spot on her arm with the rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit and injected it. God, this wasn't what he had expected when she suddenly passed out at all…she seemed to be in such good condition...Definitely feisty…Now he'd just have to wait. He had to make sure she didn't just drop dead, but he wasn't sure if calling the paramedics was something necessary quite yet. He knew how to handle this type of thing, after all. It was his job.
Placing her on the couch, he tracked down a blanket and sat beside her, watching the time. He hoped that shot would be enough. If she had dropped too low…
This was the last thing he had expected to do with the rest of his evening after a long day at work. Helping some diabetic woman who hated him for trying to help her. He could only hope she'd wake up. She'd probably yell at him again, or generally be displeased. But at least then he could just leave, knowing she'd be fine. Then after that he'd never see her again. Especially since she didn't seem too interested in keeping in touch or associating with him at this point…
Waiting…he just kept waiting…
