The Unconventional Hero

23) Interlude Pt.2

Chapter Twenty-Three: Interlude Pt. 2 or Mind on Fire

The café lights were low as it adjusted to the summer sun lowering.

"I'll take a coffee, please. One sugar, two cream."

The barista responded with a devoid Yes ma'am, and turned around to get it done.

Taking a seat by the window and the door, she checked her watch. Nine o'clock sharp, it read back to her. Thirty minutes to prepare herself for any type of terrifying outcome to show itself.

The barista set the cup down at her and smiled when Melissa thanked her kindly. It's reassuring to have someone else in the store for whatever storm is about to go down.

She just needs to make sure that Mr. Mengele doesn't attempt to take her son. She can't afford to lose anything precious to her again. Not now, not yet, and definitely not so soon. Hopefully never again. Her fingers twitched, looking for something to fidget with.

"No problem!"

A familiar blue light glows—her phone—when she gets a notification from the news app. It seems a new political figure head was rising, John Locklan. He was a people's man, but he was also very deceptive.

Maybe she was just biased. Highschool relationships never went well, anyways. Her best friend had warned her too, and she foolishly went after him. That was now in the past, though.

There were very few scandals concerning him, but they weren't zero.

Personally, Melissa had never bought into whatever propoganda he wanted to sell. Jo was—John was such a trickster and seemed like a two faced politician. He only went with what the people asked of—and by god was that a horrible thing when the more prominent figures of society were empty headed tv show stars. But then again it was never the people's decision. The powerful lead the rich, lead the poor, after all.

Not a good combination for people's rights. Well, as if Locklan really gave a shit about people's lives. He never seemed to give any shits towards anyone but himself. She would know.

But again, she could be biased. Maybe he changed for the better.

Maybe he would never.

The bell attatched to the door rang, and Melissa looked up. A middle aged man strolled in, eyes searching the café. He didn't seem to spare Melissa a second glance, face impassive. Hm.

After ordering whatever he wanted, he moved to take a seat. His eyes locked onto one in the corner, but if Melissa's guess was right, she refused to allow him to sit in a secluded place. When he passed, she cleared her throat. Hopefully he took the hint.

"May I help you, miss?" he said, turning around curiously. His eyebrow seemed to twitch in well hidden annoyance. But she was a very perceptive person. Others percieved that as annoying and invasive, but Darryl had said if she just kept it to herself then it wouldn't matter to others. Darryl was usually right.

Inwardly, she frowned. Outwardly, she smiled, light and carefree. "Yes, are you perhaps Mr. Mengele?"

Confusedly, he nodded, eyes scanning the shop.

No sign of my son, huh. Sorry to disappoint.

"Take a seat. Unfortunately, they couldn't make it. An emergancy with my mother-in-law, so he asked me to come talk with you in his stead. I hope you won't mind that my son isn't here." Lying was never easy for her, but bending the truth was far better than lying outright. Lying always had consequences. Little white lies never truly harmed anyone. No one important, at least