Midnight Orchestra

Feelin' You - What to Do with What You Feel

I am terribly sorry for not updating for half a year. Admittedly, I haven't really noticed it because I have always been writing...essays, research papers, short stories, poems, and other stuff that just don't happen to fall under Midnight Orchestra. I've also been taking literature and writing classes and am working on a short story that I strive to get published. (Of course, I dream of getting many other works published. XD)

I've also been back to gaming. -_- It's eating most of my time, and I'm terribly sorry. I'll just do my best to make my updates unique and worth the long wait. Hope you guys enjoy this update! J

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Feelin' You – What to Do with What You Feel

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I just wanna tell you, baby, how much I am feelin' you.

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Nothing good comes out of avoiding issues and missing chances, you know as much. So a part of you, the one that knows and accepts the truth, takes control of your legs and brings you to a café near the building where your next class will be. It's a bit too fancy for you, but it's the only café around here and you know you need to eat or drink something after enduring a four-hour lecture in chemistry.

But the place is noisy and crowded, and after checking your phone, you realize that it's already lunchtime and hordes of hungry customers are bound to come here. "It's probably not a good time," you say, thinking the place is too noisy for a writing spot. "Maybe next time."

You turn your back and walk to the door.

"Here, have a seat, ma'am," a waiter calls after you.

"Oh, no, I was just about to—"

He pulls out a chair as he wipes the little round wooden table. "Coffee, ma'am?" he asks, smiling like the sun. That smile is too bright and cheery for you to reject his offer. Besides, you did mean to sit here and face your problem. This guy has just helped you take a step forward.

Sighing, you slip past a group of students who are all busily chatting with one another as they wander towards a table, past the waitress carrying a tray of plates, glasses, and bowls, and make your way towards the newly cleaned table. The seat feels uncomfortable, your butt strangely repulsed by the flat surface. The only thing you want to do right now is to run off and escape.

Shame on you if you do that.

You heave another sigh, resigned to your fate. "Is this what it feels like to face your destiny? Ugh, I feel so bad for my characters."

"Sorry?"

You smile sheepishly. "Oh, nothing, I was just...yeah, nothing."

He nods slowly, being polite. Anyway, it's none of a random waiter's business. He pulls out a pen and a little notepad as you stick your hand in your bulky backpack and blindly feel for your purse to secretly check how much you can spend here—if you have money to spare, that is.

"What'll you have, ma'am?"

"I...I'll have uh, w-water—I mean, tea. Iced tea, please."

You appreciate that he doesn't laugh at you for almost only asking for water in such a posh café, but you feel awkward all the same. Chewing on your lip, you look through the window and stare at the Psychology Department building.