Beasty | First Draft Sample

06

Tuesday morning found me seated on the corner booth of an old quint restaurant downtown, my seat direct to the window displaying a scenery I very much appreciated at the moment.

The hustling and bustling city streets strangely reassured me. It eased away the restlessness that always tingled in the shadows of my thoughts.

It also helped me write.

Watching people, how they smiled, how they talked, their dressing style, it helped give definition to so many characters in my mind. It gave me insight into different personalities.

"Teriyaki prawns, chicken stir-fry, and orange juice. Like always," the waiter smiled as he moved towards my booth and placed my breakfast on the table before me.

I grinned at the boy, "Thank you, Michael. Not going to school today?"

The only just a second ago smiling Michael's expression hardened at my question and I watched silently as he looked back at the main counter, hesitating.

Still conflicted, he looked back. "What's the use? They all tease me. I'm a loser"

Loser?

Michael was one of the first people I had actually acquainted with coming here from London. Ever since my first eat at the restaurant. Being new in Berlin I was still shy about approaching people — and his English had been commendable.

That had been a year ago. It was startling how another year was nearly at an end. Michael, a high school senior now, had been and still was a good guy, studying and working at the same time. I knew how hard that was to handle considering I had worked through my last school years too.

The little tumble of outrage and disbelief settled down after I noticed the slightly embarrassed Michael still standing at the edge of my table.

I eased back into my seat, and motioned towards the seat opposite mine, "Care to talk? I have a lot of breakfast to share!"

Michael's blush brightened as he shook one hand in front of him, the other still holding his serving tray.

"I can't. I-I'm on duty. Mrs. Friztburg would get wild," he stammered aloud, a characteristic of his I had noticed that showed when he was nervous or embarrassed.

"Now that I can't believe. Mrs. Friztburg would never go wild, she's so delightful —" insisting cheerfully, I edged to the corner to have a look around the cafe before turning back to Michael. "—Besides, the cafe is almost empty today morning! Come on!"

My lips thinned as I watched Michael. I didn't want to add this tiny bit of information, but the boy actually looked starved. The dark hollows under his eyes, his pale sickly complexion, the translucent skin on his face. Even his whole form looked quite lanky.

The indecision in Michael's eyes was quite obvious as he took a few of his couple minutes to actually ponder about my offer, his eyes darting discreetly between the seat opposite mine and the plates filled with food.

Well maybe not so discreetly, after all.

Finally, removing his waiter's apron, he took a seat and I smiled.

"Good choice. Now, dig in and tell me what all this 'loser' deal is about," I spoke, taking ample amounts of prawn and chicken into each of the two plates, and then pushing one towards him.

A discreet smile shadowed my lips when hesitantly but surely Michael picked at a fork. He hadn't even noticed how his plate held far more than mine did.

My smile widened when he looked at me and smiled, "Well—you start!"

"Alright," I grinned, picking up my fork before slowly stabbing a prawn and then biting it off.