Death To Thora - COMPLETE SHORT STORY

Four

I find myself at the cafe bar, once again. Except this time, it's not at nine in the morning, but at eleven in the morning. And Calix isn't here. When Draven walks in, I'm admittedly relieved to see him. He's become the only person around here who might believe what I have to say. He won't think I'm crazy. Right? As soon as he sees me, he slows his pace. Either I look as scared as I feel, or I look unrecognizable and he needs to take a second look to confirm it's me. Either way, his face softens upon his eyes' arrival on my face.

"Are you okay?" He asks softly.

I sip on my spiked coffee. "Not really," I admit. "I didn't get much sleep last night."

He pulls up a stool beside me, his gaze never leaving me. "Did something happen?"

I shake my head, trying to sound as rational as possible. "I don't know. I mean yes– but I don't know what, exactly... All I know is that it was weird enough to keep me up all night."

"What happened?"

"I heard something. Outside my window. It woke me up."

"What did you hear?"

I muster the courage to admit my truth. "It was like... chanting. A bunch of voices."

He seems more interested in something else on his mind than this. "Did Devlin say something to you? The night of the fire? I noticed she was there."

"Yeah." I take another sip. "She basically told me to leave."

He thinks for a second. "Maybe you should."

I try not to showcase the instant hurt I feel as he says that. "You think I should leave?"

"I'm not going to tell you what to do, that's not my place. But it's only been a few days that you've been here, and you seem unwell. You don't sleep, you come here and drink–"

"I can't leave, Draven. I've had a rough start but I'm here to do a job. I don't have enough material yet."

"Please don't take anything personal. I don't mean it that way."

"I know. I'm sorry for snapping at you." I take in a deep breath, then another sip from the glass. "So," I say, grabbing a pen and pad from the bag at my feet. "Tell me about the Moon Festival on Saturday."

"You'll get much better material from actually going. It starts at five pm and goes until sunrise, though you don't actually have to stay out that late."

"Do you paraglide? At the festival?" I ask, suddenly curious.

"I do."

I bite my lip in excitement. "Tell me about that. What's it like? How did that start as a tradition?"

"I don't know the history of it, I just do it. It's a good rush." He looks at the door, and I suddenly regret hounding him. "I have to go, actually. I'll see you around?"

I throw my pen and pad back into my bag and play with the coaster at my elbow. "Sure."

"Take care of yourself." He pats my shoulder and heads out.

-🏶-

I spend the rest of the day at the cafe, working on my article. When the sun goes down at five pm, patrons seem to pour in. Amongst them are Calix and Cosette, who seem to be too busy chatting each other up to notice my presence. Cosette's wearing the kind of tank top that shows off her tattoos, and Calix's eyes jump to them every now and then. He seems different around her, more nervous. I decide to approach after a few minutes, ordering a drink at the bar. Instead of Sommer, there is another pretty waitress manning the drinks.