Replay

A chorus of French greetings announced her arrival and she sat down at the elegant table across from her date.

"You look so familiar... Have we met?"

Lisa smiled and sipped her drink.

Oh, Mark, you have no idea...

***

Reality was looping again.

Lisa tucked an auburn curl behind her ear and took in the aroma of her quickly-passing dinner. The first few times she'd been through the loop had been lovely; some of the events had made her laugh, while others had simply confused her. Lisa figured she was dreaming and her brain had blessed her with scenario after scenario, all revolving around going on a date with one of her favorite celebrities: Mark Fischbach.

"It feels like I might have known you for a long time." Mark smiled at her.

She had learned early on that she was a silent participant in the story; anything she said was swallowed up by the air around her. It was as if she was shouting into the wind. The only things that really mattered were her actions. So Lisa just smiled at him and enjoyed the view. Mark was a really attractive guy.

The angry chef walked in and grabbed Mark's shoulder. She watched the now familiar look of panic flash across Mark's face as he realized that he'd forgotten his wallet.

The chef glared down at them, still holding a fistful of Mark's jacket in his hand. Automatically, she felt herself reach into her purse and fish out her credit card. Lisa had explored all of the pathways, and had a lot of fun doing so, but her natural inclination had always been to pay for dinner.

What kind of awful person would refuse if they had the money to cover it? She wondered again. Especially when things are getting violent?

And if she didn't pay, the events would take a violent turn. The chef would abduct them with the intention of cooking them and, if they let the chef have his way, the whole thing would dissolve into either a trippy acid dream or watching Mark scrape a concrete floor with a metal spoon for ten minutes straight. TEN. ENTIRE. MINUTES.

Well, she didn't have any way to tell time... It might be closer to an hour. It certainly felt that way.

The chef's demeanor changed immediately when she passed her card to him. He was all smiles as Mark stood up to guide her out, talking about the play he wanted to take her to see.

After a blinding flash of light, he was walking with her into the theater. He turned to look at her, his face relaxed and honest.

"I just wanted to say thanks for coming out with me. I mean, you're beautiful-"

Mark was cut off by another chorus of greetings from the theater employees. That didn't stop her stomach from doing a little flip-flop.

He thinks I'm beautiful?

She cursed the interruption, even though it happened every time. Lisa wanted to know what else he would say if he continued.

After picking up some popcorn and giving her a piece, Mark asked her which play she would like to see. While the romance was extremely entertaining, she chose the horror-themed play. Lisa puzzled at the poster for the play she chose. Maybe her mind was randomly putting symbols together, because there were no skeletons or bloodied banjos down this path.

I suppose a banjo-playing skeleton would be pretty horrifying, though.

"Good luck..." a theater employee called out as Mark opened the door.