regrets of a dead CEO

12 - meeting

*picture of the mystery man

GIDEON'S POV

I sit on top of Hannah's bed to gaze at my lap, clenching and unclenching my fists as I recall her last words to me.

Please leave. I need space.

The emptiness surrounds me, feeling rejected, tossed away like an empty bag of chips that the owner hastily threw away after the guilt takes over when the dopamine levels drop, the salty heaven only providing a couple minutes of bliss.

I felt like her savior, her hero and lifeline, only to be tossed away when reality struck her: she fucked a man almost twice her age, and is ashamed of it.

Maybe she didn't like me. Maybe I hurt her.

No wonder she doesn't want you. You're a fraud, a nobody, invisible and unimportant, garbage for seducing an angel like her. Off course, a girl so pure wouldn't want to fuck you, let alone let you approach her within a fifty mile radius.

I bite my lip hard, hoping the feeling of my skin crushing underneath my teeth will distract me from the devastating realization that I'm simply not good enough. It doesn't work, my skin feels numb again. Everything feels numb again.

I close my eyes and a glimpse of a bright blond girl flashes before me. I remember that moment. It was scorched on my cornea, for it was the first time I had the guts to ask a girl out.

She worked at a coffee shop and had bright eyes and a silver piercing in her nose. She looked friendly and approachable, always smiling at customers when she handed them their order.

I recalled how I always stared at her from the outside of the window. It took months for me to finally build the courage to go inside, the ringing bell increasing my nerves, and wait in line like a normal human being. 

It took ages for me to be able to save enough money, scrambling my pennies by begging on the street, being called a fraud and many other names that I do not wish to repeat, but still mark me till this day.

Standing in that line, looking at the smile on my girls face, made the feeling of my growling stomach eating my intestines worth it. 

Having to go hungry for days so I could buy the cheapest drink at that coffee house and ask her out, would be worth it.

That's what I thought when I stood in the back of the large line. But the closer I got to the cash register, the more nervous I became because of the piercing glances and upturned noses. Some of the customers closest to me clenched their noses and even made not so subtle barfing noises. 

I couldn't chicken out. Even the man entering the coffee shop, asking if something died in here before walking back out, couldn't deter me.

I remember how my nerves grew bigger  and when it was finally my turn, she didn't clench her nose or gave me a filthy look. Instead, she gave me her brightest smile and asked me what she could get for me.

And I have never felt this happy.

I smiled back, revealing my yellow teeth and scratching my knotted dirty hair that itched my skin as I proudly ordered a small black coffee.

She quickly made my order, asking my name while she scribbled Gideon on the little cup, and I knew I would treasure it for the rest of my days.

I opened my mouth, wanting to ask the question burning on my tongue for ages -

"That will be three forty-five, sir."  

The sentence iced my body, making me stutter and look at the ground in shame. Prices went up, and I knew I only had 3 bucks in my pocket.