Six— Bad Omen.

The morning breeze was chilly. I got up and close my window. The clouds were dark. I took a 2-day leave on my part-time jobs. I have to finish my draft today and send it within the day. Furthermore, I thought of going to my favorite café to write. For once, I want to treat myself a cup of hot chocolate while I write. I went nonetheless.

I wore a black turtleneck sweater to hide the bruise on my neck and some comfy pants. Combed my loose curly long hair and bun it with a ribbon. And I'm done. I checked if my things are complete before I leave the house. Laptop, checked. Notebook, checked. Pencil, checked. Bag, checked. Purse, checked. I'm ready.

"I haven't seen my aunt since yesterday" I thought.

I went outside and it was so chilly outside. Good thing I wore a sweater.

Ten minutes later, I am inside my haven. The café looks rustic, and it's perfect for someone like me who needed a peaceful place to write or to relax their minds.

“Hi, Heather! It’s been a while. “Greeted the owner named George.

George is two years older than me. He is a decent-looking guy. Tall and with dimples. Like every woman will take a selfie with him. What I admire most about him is that he has a warm personality. I wish I have a brother like him. I thought.

I smiled at him and greeted back, “Hi, George! How are you?”

“I’m great! The café misses you! How’s your draft doing? By the way, same drink? Our famous hot chocolate with marshmallow on top?”

I chuckled. “Almost done. Yes, please. Thank you!”

“You're always welcome, milady!” He said with a bow and winked.

I laughed and shook my head.

Then, my favorite spot was not yet occupied. I sat and prepared my things while I wait for my favorite drink.

My phone message alerted. It’s Sophia. “Hi, H! I’ll see you tomorrow! Don't be late! No turning back with our deal, okay?”

I almost forgot the party. I replied, Deal’s still up. See you tomorrow.”

My hot chocolate now served.

“Thank you, George!”

George winked again and said, “I’ll take my leave now, milady. Enjoy your cup of our premium hot chocolat.” Then he welcomes another customer.

I sipped on my cup. This is the best drink ever! Now, I have to zero in on my draft.

An hour later...

A felt someone’s staring at me. So, consciously, my head tilted towards the person who’s looking at me. Then we had an eye-to-eye contact. He was the rude cold chiseled guy slashed savior of mine. He was sitting one table away from me.

I averted my gaze. “What a weird dude.” I thought.

I re-read my draft and once I am satisfied, I sent it. Likewise, I feel relieved.

I touched my neck, still in pain. I massaged it a little. But it hurts. I noticed that the chiseled guy was now walking towards me. And spoke, “Can I take this seat?”

“Um,” before I answered, he cutted me and sat on the unoccupied chair opposite side.

“Well, what do you want?” I said annoyingly.

“I’d like to apologize for what happened last time. I should not say that to you.” He spoke coldly but sincerely.

“Is that why you're here? Don't tell you searched for me just to apologize?” I was being sarcastic.

He creased his eyebrows in a second then replied, “No. I don't have time for that. It was a coincidence that I’m here.”

I can't believe this guy. To finish the unwanted conversation, I said, “Apology accepted.” I smiled and I fakingly looked on my drafts.

Then I felt that he's still staring at me.

“Thank you for your time.” He said and left.

George asked me if everything's all right. And if I knew the guy.

I answered, “All good. Just a random guy. “

He looked at me confused. “You don't know that dude?”

“Should I recognize him?”

“What?! He’s the notorious Alexander Huxley! A billionaire. Famous to many women in the city. Good that you don't know him. He’s a playboy. “He said it from praising the guy to bashing.

Ah. That's why he’s wearing a suit.

“I don't how popular he is. I don't care. He’s just a random rude guy. I’ll take my leave now. Thank you!” I left my payment to the counter. As I opened the door, George shouted, “ Heather, wait up!”

I stopped and waited for him.

George asked, “You free tomorrow?”

“No, I'm not. I have a prior commitment tomorrow. Why you asked?”

“No. Nothing. I’ll see you some other time, milady.”

Confused, I said, “Okay. See you around.” I smiled at him and left.

As I walked towards the pedestrian lane, I feel genuinely happy and grateful for finishing my draft that I wanted to jump. I looked up at the sky and wished, "I wish I’ll be picked on the next round of competition.“ then it poured. 

Oh, no. Bad omen? I thought. I ran as fast as I could.

The traffic light was now red. And the pedestrian signal says go. It's pouring heavily, and I am running towards the other side. When I hear a car screeched so badly and rapidly going on my way, my survival instinct is to move quickly as much as possible. My body was able to move, but I saw the car still moving hastily towards me. The beam of the headlights blinded me and I squeezed my eyes so hard. Then, I blacked out.