Cofi and fishbols

Epilogue

With my headphones blasting away, I scribbled some random phrases going in and out of my head.

I sipped from my cup and revel to the strong, smooth taste of coffee mocha which Jana’s café perfected from years of growing into one of the known and respected coffee shop in the metro.

Who needs Starbucks? I smiled at that thought.

Out of nowhere a CD in a clear casing landed in my small table making me look up to the person who set it down.

There’s the guy I left two years ago, smiling down at me, “Can I ask for an autograph? This is not an original copy though; I like the sound of the guy playing piano in the background in this copy better.”

I can’t help myself from smiling back. He obviously been to a beach, he’s natural pale skin now has a healthy glowing tan. I took off my headphones and clicked the player off.

“Can I sit down?”

“Of course. Please do.” He took the sit in front of me, his smile not leaving his face. He sure looks amazing. He now sports a fit body, though he never been on the fat side but now I’m trying hard not to drool as he was just wearing a white sando that shows enough muscles saying he’s good enough to eat and a khaki denim shorts looking like a jet black-haired surfer than the rockstar-looking pianist who often dons a black shirt before.

“It’s been awhile wasn’t it?” he asked. “I was taking a break from all the back-packing trips that I’m into these days so decided to surprise you and say hi, good thing I don’t have to search for you all over town. I was afraid I have to wait in line with all your screaming fans.” He said teasing me.

I don’t know what to say, I’m just staring at him with a stupid smile on my face like a girl who is dumb-struck at the sight of her crush in front of her. He looked at me, amused. I must have really looked like a fool, like I’ve lost my ability to speak or even formulate a decent conversation.

He just shifted his gaze away from me and looked around the cafe, “Jana’s place is looking great, do you think she needs a spare hand? Maybe I can apply for a barista or something.”

“You’ll be too hot for a barista.” I blurted in spite of myself suddenly knowing how to speak again. He’s just so damned irresistible.

He chuckled. “Ms. Alex Juanico, are you hitting on me?”

“Maybe I am. How about a cup of coffee then a free date on my gig later?”

The tables are turned I guess.