have a little faith | janthony

chapter six: believe

The next morning, Anthony woke up with tear-soaked cheeks. Pealing himself out of bed felt near impossible because all he wanted was to be back in his dream, or even better, experiencing that warmth in the real world. When he did make it upright, he had to grab onto his dresser to catch himself before crumbling to the floor. His head was hazy and spinning from his stomach being knotted up so tightly with nerves for the rest of the day. Tonight was his shot.

He'd debated calling in sick from the cafe to hole up in his room all day, but he knew he couldn't do that. He couldn't lose his mind before his chance to meet Jasmine.

For the rest of the day, he clawed himself out from his wandering thoughts just enough to avoid getting fired. As soon as his tables had their orders, he was back to swimming in blurs of vivid colors. He wanted to imagine what she looked like, but knew even his best attempts wouldn't capture it. The woman he had the chance to meet tonight would be radiant, and not just because of her beauty. He wanted to feel the way he felt in his dream again. He wanted to feel alive.

At this point, he couldn't even think of the potential for her not to show up. If she didn't come to the park, his life was sentenced to nothingness just as it had been for years because his heart couldn't take this any longer. There was no point dwelling on it - this was truly his last chance.

As soon as he pocketed the tip from his last table at the cafe, he jogged home to grab his things and call a cab to the other side of Brooklyn. He still had hours and hours, but he could at least check into the motel he'd booked for the night. He was far from presumptuous about where the night would lead even in the best of outcomes, but knew that at the very least he needed to be closer to her neighborhood. The pull towards Prospect Park and wherever else she may be was too strong to ignore any longer.

Jasmine felt herself weakening under that same pull, but was putting up her best fight. All day she'd spent trying to distract herself. She'd only gotten out of bed after her sheets had been flung to the floor from endless tossing and turning in her desperation to sleep more, but even that left far too many hours to mull over what could happen that night. She picked up an extra day shift at the bar, where even the hustle of working couldn't keep her focus. Nearly every single customer received the wrong drink that day, but after one look at her eyes strung out and swollen, only a few had the heart to say anything. She was dragging herself through the day because even though she didn't know what the night would bring, she had a gut feeling.

It wasn't positive or negative per se. She wasn't going into the night expecting to meet the love of her life, but she wasn't really expecting to be stood up either. It didn't matter though, because either would be worth a shot as long as she didn't get caught. The plus side was obvious, but what would happen if no one was there to meet her? She'd feel alone? Rejected? Abandoned? Par for the course. At least this way she could get some fresh air and a new reason to ridicule herself the next day. There was nothing to be afraid of that could be worse than her reality, so she made it through the day until it was time to get ready.

After applying extra layers of concealer and powder until the bruise around her eye was sufficiently hidden, Jasmine descended the stairs with a lump in her throat. It was nearly 11:30pm and she knew Jordan was going to throw a fit.

"Where are you going?"

Right on cue. "I'm working a midnight shift at the bar, babe."

Jordan scoffed, then exhaled a dramatic sigh. "Why? You like all those slimy guys ogling their sexy bartender?"

Better them than you, she thought, squeezing her eyes shut to stop herself from rolling them. "It's good money, babe. We've talked about this. I get time and a half, plus drunk people tip well. And I'm wearing a longer dress just like you asked."