This is the Coffee shop I imagined, for this prompt, but do not feel you need to picture your characters in this setting! All I want from this prompt is a few good stories with memorable and either loving or terrible characters. Below is my story... (not sure I like it though) Also sorry I edited it so much after having it up for a day.

Coffee Shop Confession

Tapping my fingers on the countertop, I sat at one of the barstools in a the local coffee shop. I'd been here more in the last month than I had in my entire life, and now I was dreading that I may never be able to enjoy coming back. The other nervous hand was stirring my now-cold coffee in what felt like the millionth circle. The watch on my finger tapping hand read 2:02. The last time I checked it was 2:00.

I picked up the coffee and set it down again without taking more than a sip. Where is she? Her shift starts at 2:00. I thought to myself as I took another sip. Man, this stuff is awful, but it smells so good... My mind began to wander as I waited longer.

Soon, the barista behind the counter left through a door, and a minute later, a new barista replaced her behind the counter. This one quickly looked away from me and pointedly turned away to face the coffee maker and stacks of cups.

"Max, I can't talk to you."

"Elli, please..." I started, but she cut me off.

"No, Max, I mean it. I can't talk to you right now."

"Why not?"

"I can't," she started, took a breath, and restarted, "I won't be able to tell you."

"You've been avoiding me for more than a week now. I need to know what's going on!" I cried out a little louder than I should have. Luckily the small shop only harbored two old ladies, and a studying college girl at the time, all of whom looked up at us when I spoke.

"Poeple usually avoid other people when they need space to think." she snipped, her words speeding up as the conversation progressed.

"I gave you space! I gave you more than a week! I gave you time and space. Now, I just need to know what's wrong. We were fine before..." I trailed off trying to remember back to us holding hands and giggling at the tiny children holding hands with their parents at the mall.

"I know we were fine." she sighed and looked down at the counter she was washing while we spoke. The vigorous swoops of the washcloth slowly stopped as she stood there suddenly in another world. "I'm just not fine." she came back to life and slowly started wiping the counter again.

I puzzled over what she had just said.

"Is it another guy?"

"No."

"I don't understand then."

I looked behind me at the old ladies and the college girl. "Can we please talk?" I asked her. "Outside or out back? They won't miss you for a couple of minutes."

She looked down at her apron, took it off, and I followed her out back. There was a small bench there where she sat down. I didn't want to sit on the awfully small bench until I knew things were better between us, so I grabbed a bucket from inside the door and sat accross from her in the dirt street behind the shop.

"Why have you avoided me and been so moody lately? I don't remember doing anything too make you leave me like this." I sighed at my feet and looked up at her. "I don't even know if we're still dating, or not."

"I don't know either." She sighed, "You'll have to tell me."

"Tell me why then," I felt like begging, "please."

This was our last year of college, and we'd been together for four years. I didn't realize how much a part of my life she was until she deserted me. I wanted her back.

"I don't know how to tell you. You might be scared. It's worse now that I kept it a secret for so long."

"Tell me in as little words." I suggested, "It would make it faster."

She hesitated for a minute and finally, "I'm pregnant."

I sat in silence for a little bit. "With another guy's baby?" I asked.

"No, yours..."

"I don't understand why you would think I wouldn't want to hear about this!" I said getting excited.

"There's more..." I waited as she took a dramatic pause, "they're twins."

"Ellizabeth! How long have you kept this a secret? You get your first ultrasound at about 12 weeks, and that's the only way you'd know if they were twins." I stared at her and she looked down.

"I don't know how you know that off the top of your head. I got an ultrasound at 8 weeks because I was able to get one early. I didn't know how to tell you I was pregnant because things were so good between us and I wanted to keep it like that. I also wanted to keep the baby, but I didn't think you would. Then I found out there were two. And I left because I was woried I'd start to show and..." she trailed off.

"I don't think you realize how crazy this is! I'm going to be a dad..." I walked to the little bench, sat down, and hugged her.

I'm adding to the post I already had because I can't post twice. I wanted to make my own little story, but I don't know what I think about my characters... or the story for that matter.

Eddy carried a fan. An outdated tool, perhaps, but one wielded with ruthless efficiency. Behind its silk screen hid a distasteful moue, as he rendered judgement on the assembled strangers in the coffee shop like a queen judging her courtiers and finding not a single one suitable. The fan waved in miniscule movements, as the heavy A/C required no additional circulation.

Every few moments the fan would snap shut with finality, as Eddy sipped his nonfat-mocha-latte-extra-hot-no-whip-and-cocoa-sprinkles-please-and-thank-you with poise and deliberation. Conversation vexed Eddy. Yet he could sit idly by no longer.

His subject sat next to the window grasping a cell phone with chubby, clumsy fingers and wearing a facial expression that screamed “coddled and confused” to Eddy’s knowing eye. Already the telltale signs clicked together like so many Lego bricks in his mind, building the blueprint of a character as yet unassembled but easily defined.

The sweatpants hid an average overweight American youth gut. The anime t-shirt depicting some raging male steroidal character signaled a lack of realistic gender standards. The sloppy, uncut hair and granola chin betrayed a loss of self care and a weight of self loathing that screamed “still lives at home” while whispering “mother lets me let myself go so it’s OK” in tones that made Eddy tsk. Breeders, indeed.

It was not Eddy’s burden in life to correct these errors of human judgement.

And yet...

Said youth had spent nearly two hours drinking an iced frappuccino that had left condensation rings all over the lacquered fake-wood tabletop, refusing to spend more than the minimal amount for free wi-fi access and a safe space to hide from the outside world, all whilst frantically posting into the virtual one. He jumped at sudden movements like a squirrel, eyeing happy strangers with a glare that bespoke resentment as well as envy, particularly when his gaze fell upon women.

Eddy couldn’t take it any longer.

“Boy,” he said, loading the word with every ounce of polite ridicule he could muster, “have you ever seen a coaster?”

Another jump and this time the youth appeared absolutely terrified to be spoken to. His eyes drank in Eddy’s designer outfit - a loose white blouse over black slacks, gracefully accented by bracelets and reinforced black pumps - then landed, regretfully, on the fan like a fly might spy a swatter. “W-what??”

The fan snapped. “A coaster - that small square there, next to your grossly sweaty beverage? You’re meant to put that under the cup, sweetie.” He pointed with the fan for emphasis. “It keeps the table from getting wet.”

“Oh,” the youth looked down, his pale ears turning pinker. “Sorry - I didn’t know that’s what they were used for.” He fumbled to put plastic to cardboard, making futile wipes at the water droplets already accumulated on the table.

“Your poor mother. I shudder to think of her abused dinner table.” Eddy tsked again, the fan snapping back open as he wafted away his utter disappointment.

“I eat dinner in my room,” the youth muttered, barely audible as if trying to escape the conversation by audibly retreating from it. Sadly, Eddy’s hearing was a fine-tuned thing.

“That’s not healthy, you know,” he chided, still at full volume. “Distracted eating leads to overeating.”

The youth’s expression turned to outright horror. “That’s body shaming! I’m not fat!”

“I said ‘health’ not ‘heft’, deaf child, and my suggestion is nonetheless true.” The fan wafted, sending coffee shop vapors and disdain in equal portions across the room.

“You’re only saying that because I’m a boy,” the youth repeated stubbornly, and Eddy’s assumptions began clicking neatly together. “If I were a girl you wouldn’t judge me for being chubby.”

“I only judge people who don’t own their body image. You,” he gestured vaguely at the sad state of sweats, “obviously aren’t happy with yours, so don’t complain if I offer constructive criticism.”

“I never asked for it!”

“Honey, that shirt is asking for it. Are you aware they make tops that don’t start with ‘T’?”

“Please leave me alone,” the boy griped, turning away towards the window and clutching his phone like a lifeline.

“Suit yourself, darling, but I’m the only person here who’s bothered talking to you. If you wanted to be left alone why come out in public at all?”

“I just wanted to get away from my home, okay? It’s stressful sometimes.”

“Oh heavens, not stressful - how terrible for you.” The flatness of Eddy’s tone provided the perfect ramp for his eyes to roll down.

“You don’t understand!”

“I don’t understand what,” Eddy said, the edge of his tone now razor sharp. “Growing up as a constant disappointment to my father? Hearing my mother tell me I should act ‘more like a man’? Hiding who I was and accepting their judgement, telling me that God would smite me if I ever accepted who I was?”

The boy stayed silent, apparently unsure of how to respond so opting not to at all. His eyes remained defiant, signaling an internal monologue that made Eddy’s own go Oh, no you didn’t.

Out loud Eddy continued, “Look, you want to escape? There are no safe spaces in this world. You have to own the space you’re in.” He waved his fan in a wide, expansive arc. “Take this coffee shop. You’re sitting in my shop. Therefore if I deign to speak to you, you should count yourself lucky. Out of the dozens of people sitting in here you’ve merited my actual time and attention. Instead of taking it personally, you could at least feign polite interest and engage in a conversation. Even if you don’t like me, you could still learn something if you actually listened.”

.........

And to Eddy’s surprise, he did.

Unfortunately, every Friday afternoon at the same hour that Eddy made his regular appearance. Like a clockwork chick popping out of the nest to sit at its mother’s feet.

Oh lord...Eddy groaned inwardly after the third week. What have I done.

She pushed open the doors, cringing at the grossly cheerful jingle they gave as she entered. She certainly didn't need her presence announced; she wouldn't even have been in here if Stephen hadn't asked her to pick up his coffee beans.

Coffee beans, of all things. She hated coffee.

And here she was, the coffee shop bustling around her in that romantic sort of slow-moving way. The way people sat with their steaming cups, leisurely typing on their laptops or staring out the window, like they had nothing better to do. The way everyone casually chatted, like they met up here often. The way the baristas drew pictures in the customer's drinks with milk, like there wasn't a line waiting for their damn coffee.

Or in her case, coffee beans.

Even the smell of the place made her bury her head further into the collar of her jacket. It smelled like roasting coffee, a pungent smell that made her think of early mornings with Stephen--which weren't terrible mornings, but usually involved the incessant growl of his coffee grinder, which made it impossible to sleep in. Sometimes that machine alone made her regret staying the night. And other times, it was other things.

And yet, here she was, doing him a favor. Getting his dumb beans from a dumb shop.

She checked the time on her phone for the thousandth time and resisted the urge to take another step forward in line. If she did, she'd be breathing quite literally down the neck of the chick in front of her. And she'd do it too, if she thought it would make the line move any faster.

She eyed the woman, noting the short cut of her hair and the gauges in her ears. Her eyes swept around the cafe and she found her mouth curling into a rueful smile. Look at these hipsters. Everywhere she looked there was another beanie or piercing or neutral-toned sweater. Were slaves to caffeine also slaves to the same fashion sense?

Her eyes caught on a particularly stereotypical man at the front of the line. He wore an orangish corduroy jacket, jeans that just weren't long enough, and ratty converse. His hair was dyed blonde but his dark roots were growing back in, and he stood awkwardly as he waited for his drink. She wanted to laugh at the way he scuffed his feet and stared out the window. Either he was completely out of it, or he was just dull.

Probably both.

Then, he accepted his coffee like it was a familiar friend--money-sucking friend--and she turned away, bored already. Time to people-watch someone else. She judged a few more of the patrons--or, well, more than a few--getting more and more self-conscious of the fact that she just didn't belong in a coffee shop.

Like, seriously. She, unlike the "edgy" chick in front of her, was dressed in a real leather jacket, functional, thick-soled black boots, and a healthy smear of eyeliner. Not because she was pretending to be badass, but because black matched with everything and the clothes were comfortable and weather appropriate. Which seemed to be two qualities that these people didn't care that much about. A girl nearby had a sweater that kept falling off her shoulders and didn't cover her midriff. Miss and miss.

Finally, she made it: the front of the line. "I'm picking up an order. Coffee beans for Stephen Clarke," she said, her credit card already in her hand.

The barista just nodded. She couldn't stop looking at his green hair. "Ok, lemme look in the back," he said. He clicked some buttons on his screen before sauntering to the back of the shop.

She threw her head back, staring at the clock hanging on the wall above and watching the secondhand tick. She resisted the urge to leave the building right then and there.

Finally, Green Hair came back, coffee beans in hand. "Ok, here's the order. Now I just need proof of purchase."

She shook her head. "Don't I pay for it?"

"No, it's already paid. It's prepaid for."

"I'm sorry, so what do you need?"

"Uh, I just need the confirmation email. Whoever paid for it would have received the email."

"I don't have the email. My boyfriend bought it. Can I just pick it up?"

"Sorry, miss. Not unless you have the email or the card used to pay."

The coffee smell in here was giving her a headache. And the pleasant chatter and the coffee making machines and that damn bell on the door. "Never mind," she said, trying her best to sound pleasant. She stepped out of line, already dialing.

Stephen better pick up.

"Hello?" He sounded far too cheerful.

"Stephen, good lord. I'm never coming here again. I need a confirmation email."

"Oh yeah, I forgot."

"Forgot? I've been here for twenty minutes. This was supposed to be, like, a five-minute errand."

"Katherine, it's Saturday. There's no rush."

"Fine, maybe I won't pick up your coffee."

"Babe, come on, I'm sorry--"

"Just send the freaking email, Stephen."

She looked at her phone when he didn't say anything. He'd hung up. She shoved her phone back into her pocket, then gritted her teeth as she took it back out again to impatiently refresh her email.

Thirty seconds of watching a loading circle spin later, she glanced up and her gaze snagged on that corduroy jacket guy. He sat blowing on his coffee mug, blinking slowly at his laptop screen.

She stepped towards him, her thigh bumping into the table, and he started. Two brown eyes blinked up at her.

"What's the wifi password?" she asked, staring at her phone as she said it. She glanced at him to confirm that he knew she was talking to him.

He seemed to understand this fact, but it took an excruciatingly long time for words to come out of his mouth. "Uh," he reached across the table and held up a paper standup, one that she was just now noticing was on every table. "It's red thread cafe zero two," he read, then offered it to her.

She had already typed the words. Connected. "Thanks," she muttered, refreshing her email again. It wasn't there, but hopefully if she refreshed one more time it would; Stephen had to have sent it by now, then she could get out of this godda--

A chuckle broke her out of her thoughts, and she lowered her phone slightly to look at the corduroy guy. Her eyebrows furrowed when he smiled easily at her. "What?" she asked, getting a whiff of his coffee. Jesus, that was strong. She recoiled slightly.

"Sorry, it's just that I've never seen someone so eager to get their coffee. I guess you're feeling depraved..." He leaned back in his seat, his mouth still curved into a crooked smile. "Not that I don't understand the feeling," he said, holding up his own mug as if giving a toast.

For a moment she just frowned at him. "I don't drink coffee. It's for--you know what, never mind," she said, turning her attention back to her phone. One new message. Excellent, because the smell of coffee was beginning to get overwhelming, and she thought she might start gagging.

Corduroy Boy just shrugged. "Ok, then," was all he said. And thank goodness.

Still, his shortness gave her pause. She'd seen the wall of words on his laptop; clearly he was some sort of penniless writer. She had expected him to have more to say, she'd thought that she'd have to rudely peel herself away from the conversation.

But no. He was sitting peacefully, watching the steam rise off of his mug of coffee.

She shook her head and turned away. She had to pick up those damn beans.

The first time Hector came in, Justine was very confused. Nursing a bit of a hangover from girl’s night out with her sisters and best friend, she was pretty sure she misheard the order. “I’m sorry, what was that you wanted to order?”

“Just cream.”

“Um...I’m not sure how to...one moment please.” Justine nudged her manager and explained the man at the counter just wanted to order cream. The manager shrugged and told her to put it in as a latte and then just pour cream in a cup for him. Justine did as she was told.

“Thanks.”

She watched him walk out. Tall and skinny with that euro-skinhead look minus the racist malice. Cute despite every visible inch of his skin covered in tattoos. She wondered about the non-visible inches of his skin. Not normally her type yet still she found him very attractive. But the order was baffling her.

***

“I mean, who orders just cream? Come on!?”

“Why is it even bothering you so much? Usually the people who bring their work home with them are not baristsas in a coffee shop.” Cindy could see her assessment of the situation was frustrating her little sister even more, but honestly she could care less about a random stranger ordering cream at work. Usually Justine came home from work happy, donned her latest yoga outfit and newest mat, braided her long black hair and hogged the living room for two hours “practicing”. But today she just couldn’t shut about this guy named Hector. “Seriously, Justine. I can’t believe I am even saying this, but why don’t you just practice your yoga.”

“Yeah! That’s a brilliant idea! Thanks Sis!” Cindy rolled her eyes.

***

Justine found herself watching the door for him the next morning. He did not disappoint. Actually, she melted inside a little when he smiled at her and said in his gravelly voice which seemed too old for him, “Hey, just cream.”

“Coming right up!” Turning around she cursed herself for sounding so freaking cheery - and dorky. Then, without even being conscious of it, when she wrote his name on the cup she turned the “o” into a heart. She wouldn’t even have realized except he held the cup up to her, tapped where she had written his name and raised an eyebrow. Before she could react (probably a good thing), he turned around and went out the door. Mortification entered behind him.

***

“But you don’t understand! I drew a freaking heart on his cup.”

“Juss, it’s frickin not even a big deal. He’ll probably think it’s cute. Hell, he probably thinks you’re cute.”

“But Maddy, he’s going to think I’m an immature schoolgirl! He’s so tall and...I don’t know, jagged?”

“Jagged?” Her youngest sister almost spit out her wine with her burst of laughter. “What is he a mountain? You need to calm down. I seriously doubt he thought twice about it.”

“Nooooo. I am calling out sick tomorrow.”

“Yeah right, you want to go a day without seeing if Just Cream comes in for his order?”

“Maybe I can wear a disguise.”

“That’s a great idea! Go as normal human.” With that, Maddy walked out of the kitchen, still laughing.

***

Thankfully, the next morning was so busy that Justine didn’t have time to think, too much anyway, about Hector. Suddenly she looked up from the register and there he was.

“Hey.”

“Um, hi. Just cream today?”

“Yup.” Trying to take deep breaths, without breathing too loudly (a difficult feat indeed), Justine tried to keep the crimson from rising to her cheeks as she fumbled with the register and then turned to pour the cream. Her hand was trembling a little as she set the cup down on the counter, and then she nearly fainted when Hector put his hand over hers and said, “Hey, do you have a break soon? I want to introduce you to someone.”

***

“And then what?” Willa asked, almost as excited as Justine was.

“And then he took me around the back of the coffee shop and pulled out a little saucer he had apparently stashed on the emergency stairwell. He poured the cream into the saucer and set it down and the cutest calico kitten appeared out of nowhere! I about died!”

“Oooooooh! The cream was for a kitten! Did you tell him they shouldn’t really drink that? It’s hard for them to digest you know.”

“I actually did. He said he didn’t know anything about cats but he lives behind the coffee shop and saw the abandoned kitten. He’s allergic and can’t take it in but was wondering if I could look after it for a while because he’s going out of town. He’s in a band. They’re going on tour.”

“Aw! That’s so sweet! What did you say?”

“Well of course I said I would look after it. I told him I live with my three sisters but I would ask them if we could take it in to the house. So, what do you think?”

“I think we should name it Hector and love it forever. When he gets back from tour he can come visit it whenever he wants, you would love that, wouldn’t you?” For the first time in three days, Justine had nothing to say on the matter.

I looked down at my watch. She's late. I shouldn't be surprised but still am.

I stared up at the chalkboard menu. This is the exact reason I have been making coffee at home; uncomplicated way to get the caffeine in my system as fast as possible. This was the menu for people with the actual time to stand and ponder.

"Boo!" She yelled and grabbed me around the waist. I turned around and for some reason, she is the one who look startled. "Jesus, Nick. We aren't going through the drive thru. Why didn't you get dressed to come meet me here?"

"I did get dressed." I looked down at the stain free leggings and hoodie I had put on. This was a vast improvement from the ones I'd changed out of that had baby powder and spit up all over them. The pure fact I had made it out of the house without waking the baby and with two matching flip flops was an incredibly impressive feat!

"I love you, but.." Here is comes. "You look borderline homeless." She was not impressed.

Estie was always looking to be impressed. She was one of those people who were always expecting others to elevate themselves to her level. She was wearing a brand new, crisp white shirt and jeans with heels. First of all, jeans? It's Saturday morning before 9am. And heels? Give me a freaking break! I just had a human being. I was in no condition to wear heels on two hours of broken sleep.

"Can we please get coffee first before you start in with the criticism?" I flashed a forced fake smile at her. She rolled her eyes and we walked to the counter. The barista and Estie had the same black precisely winged eyeliner. I could have all the time in the world and still not be able to get my eyeliner like that. Couldn't do it before baby, sure as shit can't do it now.

"I'll have a large coffee with cream and sugar, please" I ordered. Estie giggled. "It's so cute how you always say please when ordering. Like, it's her job. She's going to get you coffee anyway". I flashed the same fake forced smile to the barista to tell her that I knew this person next to me looks like we should not be friends, or know each other at all, but your interaction with her with will be brief and hopefully painless. She's been my best friend for god only knows what reason for the longest time. She has her moments for sure.

I didn't even pay attention to the drink she ordered because I knew already it was unnecessarily complicated. What is the point of ordering low fat, sugar free and then ordering two pastries to go?

We sat at a table and I let out of a deep sigh. For the first time in months, I was just going to be able to sit and drink a whole coffee in one sitting, while it was hot. I was savoring this moment to its fullest.

" Oh my gosh Nick, I am so freaking tired, like, you wouldn't believe how tired I am!" Estie continued to tell me how she stayed out so late last night. Dinner turned into drinks, into dancing, into meeting a guy, into pouring herself into bed around 4am. She admitted that she was contemplating asking me to meet me later for lunch instead but had already cancelled on me twice as if I have loads of spare time to be stood up at coffee shops these days.

"I am so tired too," I started.

That blank expression went across her face. "Is this baby related again?"

I sipped my coffee to keep from saying what I really wanted to say. Unfortunately, her coffee did not stop her.

"Honey, what is happening with your hair? When was the last time you had it done? It's like, four different colors right now. It looks like you need deep conditioning too."

"I guess I've just been too busy lately that I haven't had time to go get it done and I had to buy a new car seat because the laws changed and she has to stay rear facing for much longer and the one I had wasn't going to really let her grow into it".

Blank stare.

I'd like to think that it was because I had a baby now and she didn't as to why we were so different but the truth was that we were always very different; the fact I was a mom just amplified those differences.

"Well, just because you are a mom now or whatever, doesn't mean you should stop caring about what you look like. When I'm a mom I will not let myself go, right? You still have to do self-care, you know?"

I had thought this outing, a moment for myself to have coffee with a friend, was self-care.

I don't like to do this but I fake checked my phone. "Oh, it looks like the baby is being really fussy, I should go".

"Ugh! Fine!" She was pretending to protest. "I'm going to go home and take a nap anyway." One last dig before we departed. Totally her style.

I got up to leave and said "thank you" to the barista. Estie giggled again. That is someone's daughter. I would hope someone would be nice to my daughter at her first job one day too.

She wore red lipstick and ate chicken nuggets for breakfast. He was the peculiar background character in every vivid dream. She ran her hands through her unwashed hair and took a deep breath before walking into Daniem's Brewery. He was at a corner booth, making everyone around him uncomfortable, sipping a chai tea. He was the type who understood that chai tea was repetitive but also couldn't correctly pronounce "chai". She got something green with a lot of caffeine, grabbed a straw, and sauntered over to the booth. She sat with him and looked at the ground. He removed his mask to take a sip of tea then put it back on.

She pulled the straw out of its paper, set her mask to the side, and sipped the green liquid. She made a face, but kept taking small sips. He watched her, thankful that the mask was hiding his smile. She was the most beautiful person to the world to him even though she found him repulsive. He didn't mind. Not too many people would be around someone like him and be happy about it. She yawned then looked across the street at the McDonalds parking lot that sat before a bunch of colorful tubes. She was always more comfortable talking at a place with a lot of kids around.

He took another sip then looked at her again. "So, where is she?"

She didn't speak for a long time, Every few minutes he would say her name or try to pressure her to no avail. The last time he called her name, a tear fell down her face.

"Where is she?" he asked again.

"Gone."

"Gone?" The worry in his eyes was clear. He was picking at the end of his straw. "Where?"

"I can't say."

"Yes, the fuck you can. She's my daughter too. Where is she?"

"I can't--"

"Bullshit. You lured me here for this?"

She was silent. "I hate mochas."

"I hope you drown in one." He stood, threw his tea at her, and stormed out.

I do not like coffee shops, I also do not drink coffee. This was the only place in town

that my friend would meet me for brunch. I also packed some snacks just in case I did'nt like what they had on the menu. Right, I haven't introduced myself. Benoite Dayton. I am a sophmore in high school. I am currently meeting my friend Seong-Su Park. People are surprised that we are best friends. We are complete opposites. I am quite and introverted and tend to keep to myself. Seong-Su is talkative and will actually go up to

random strangers and introduce himself. "Hey Benny" He says, and plops himself right next to me and gives me a hug. I hate hugs. I hate being called "Benny". My parents are from Lyon, but they moved here when I was a baby, so I am French-American. "Benny" is a boy's name and I am a girl.

I would rather meet in a libary, then a coffee shop, but Seong-Su chose the location. About a year ago, Seong-Su moved here from Seoul, Korea and somehow we became friends. Sliver Springs is a podunk town in Alabama, but it seemed to be a magnet for werid and unexplained things, everything from disapearances to hauntings. I am a skeptic, and belive there is a logical explaination for everything. Seong-Su is the opposite, he believes in the supernatural and paranormal. Like I said, complete opposites, different as day and night.

We decided to meet in the Silver Springs Cafe, and we were to discuss a possible new case. Our last case was a missing person case, but ended up being a wild goose chase. I was dubious about our new case, but I decided to hear Seong-Su out. He explained that the owner of the Old Creek Hotel contacted us about a possible case. The owner claimed that it was haunted. Things disapearing, ghostly sightings of a man in Civil War uniform and strange sounds. Seong-Su was really excited about this, and possibly would be able to document the ghost sightings. I really wanted a normal mystery, where the cause of the strange goingons were caused by mirrors, or projectors, or possibly unmasking a villian Scooby-Doo style. I hate creepy places, and gave him this, "Do I have to go" look.

Before long, we collected our gear, and soon were out the door. Moments later, arriving at an old delilapidated building, and in the middle of a thunderstorm. Gee this was going to be fun. And soon off to another investigation, and hopefully not a wild goose chase.