Broken Strings

Have you ever been in love?

“Under the name Grey,” Peter answered the stroppy waitress. She wore her dress shorter than the rest and her bold blonde hair made a statement.

“This way,” she seemed annoyed and ticked off. I wondered whether something had happened to her before we turned up. Over the years I’ve learned not to judge someone before I know the whole story.

“Thank you,” I gave her a smile which she failed to return. We stopped at a table set for two, cliché? Yes.

“This is nice,” Peter fiddled with the napkin that had been shaped into a shell like shape.

“Better than I thought,” I admitted. A lady I didn’t recognise waltzed to our table, her long brunette hair waving side to side with every step. She wore a slim fitting red dress that hugged her in places I would never be confident enough to show off myself.

“Hello, I am Larissa Brown. You’re Marcus Heart?” she reached her hand out to shake Peter’s and I found it almost impossible to hold in my laughter, Marcus Heart?

“Nice to meet you Ms Brown but I am Peter Grey,” Peter took Larissa’s hand and shook it, I watched as her face fell and her cheeks flushed well with embarrassment.

“Amelia Duncan,” I reached my hand out and shook hers.

“I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else,” she began to giggle. At least she had a sense of humour.

“It’s okay, happens all the time,” I could tell Peter was lying. It was quite admirable watching him protect her pride.

“Well sorry again and I’ll let you two get back to your night. Quite romantic don’t you think?” my cheeks flushed red and I could see Peter’s doing the same.

“We’re not-” I began.

“Bye,” she called.

“So,” Peter looked for something to bring to the conversation, “What are you going to order?”

“That was weird huh?” I picked up the menu that separated us. “Ooh the beef sounds good.”

“I’m a sucker for a good schnitzel,” Peter admitted.

Silence.

“Who do you think she was?” he asked.

I racked my brain in an attempt to remember her name, “Larissa Brown, that’s who she is.”

“But who is she? Why would she think I was this Marcus Heart.”

“Marcus Heart is an up and coming singer,” I admitted. “Look,” I reached for my phone and searched ‘Marcus Heart’ in google. A page full of pictures and articles popped out at me. I turned my mobile to Peter. “Look!”

“Is that him?” he leaned closer and squinted slightly. “He comes across as the famous type.”

“The famous type? I didn’t realise famous was a type?”

“I guess everything is a type. Isn’t it?” both our brains were confused but we were pulled harshly back to reality when the stroppy waitress came to take our order.

“Are you ready to order?” she looked as though she had calmed down a little. I danced my eyes over her and stopped when I noticed the bruises and small cuts on her knuckled.

“I’ll have a chicken schnitzel please,” I heard him answer. “Amelia?”

“I’ll just have the same,” I was craving a big slice of beef but I didn’t want to put more pressure on her.