"Mila, take the counter!" shouts my senior from behind the checkout as I'm cleaning the tables. I finish off wiping off any muck, and do a mixture of a jog and a speed-walk to the counter I've been posted at.
I'm an university student so I'm only working part-time at a cafe to pay off my student loan; I work an easy-going 6-hour shift. But for quite a while now, I've been needing to pinch myself back into reality.
I'm 18 years old, nothing special about me since I'm only studying graphic design. Students like us basically stare at packaging all day. However my staring sessions haven't been very frequent anymore.
As I massage the back of my hand with my thumb, I've found myself in quite a predicament lately…
I'm caught off-guard when my eyes seem to wander in a direction I didn't want to. Mindlessly I'd catch myself staring at him, and before I'm able to realise he's already making eye contact with and holding a wide, approachable smile.
I want him to watch me for longer, but with time being an on-going thing, I hear the ringing tone of the announcer, calling out the arrival of my train.
Stepping off the platform and passing through the open doors of the same train I see 5-days a week, each time, I wonder to myself if tomorrow he'll stop using this station.
I take the train to and back since I don't live all that close. It used to be quite boring and dull, waiting for the train back home to arrive. I had no one to talk to or was courageous enough to begin a conversation with another stranger.
Suddenly though, a stranger who'd otherwise always have been in the background of my world suddenly stepped forward and comforted me. It was so unneeded, yet I found it so consoling.
At that time I was holding back tears at the train station, sitting at the bench with my head low. I'd have never expected a person I've never even registered amongst the crowds to suddenly approach me.
He knelt in front of me as if I were precious and passed me a pack of tissues saying "Let it all out." while smiling. Something so stupidly bare, but in that moment I felt so treasured. He didn't know why or what I was so miserable about, but still went out of his way to approach someone he's never talked to and unknowingly left me entranced.
Days I stayed late having to catch up on classwork eventually diminished, just by looking at him occasionally from afar was enough to remind me of that time and make me feel warm each morning.
Being able to watch a simple face that would randomly smile at small things would leave a lingering sensation. I've always thought of this feeling as just a silly superstition to make movie scenes more memorable, but I was tragically wrong.
It does indeed make the world just a little softer.
I've learnt a bit about him each day. I think he's a few years younger than me, possibly studying at college. His hair is dyed blonde, there were a few days where his black roots began to show before he came back fully blonde the next day.
Aside from his physical appearance, he isn't selective about the people he's around and has a habit of charming others. If someone were to trip, he runs to see if they're okay before anyone reacts.
It's all these little moments I tend to annoyingly notice that just make me want to admire him more, it's even making me concerned that the way I'm acting can label me as a stalker.
"Mila what're you standing there for!?"
My mind snaps back to reality, my mind exiting it's trance as I get back to work. The remaining hour passes like a blur, and I clock out the moment the minute hand reaches the twelve.
I keep the light-blue cap that the cafe supplies, on my head and make my way out the door, my feet light on the ground. Each step has a small dance to it and my body begins to move on its own.
The sun is in the midst of setting, but is still visible between the buildings. Out of habit, I begin to skip my way down the paved street.
Passing the buildings, I see my reflection in one of the windows, my hair a bit more unruly than usual so I take off my hat and fix myself.
'I look quite alright!' I thought to myself, twisting my body to look at myself up and down, peering closer to cup my own cheeks and tilting my head at my own reflection.
But I begin to blush the more I look at myself, considering how stupid I must've looked to other people. Even if there was hardly anyone out here. Empty like a murder sequence in a horror movie, almost.
The streets are practically empty, compared to the dreadful crowds that I have to barge past in the rush hours. However it is only natural for me to turn away from the window, with my ears going red from embarrassment as I make my way towards the train station.
My walk there continues with a vague bounce in each step I take.
The same route I've walked repeatedly, the same scenery, the same path, yet each step I take builds up my anticipation. Maybe today I'll wave at him when we share eye-contact?
I hold my own hand behind my back, one step after the other, I can't stop thinking.
I approach the platform, scanning my card, quickly jogging up and down the stairs, creasing my trainers as I stretch the tips of my toes, not that I'm picky about it, I don't think he is either.
I really want to slap myself, these repetitive thoughts, stupid they are; I feel like a child who's crushing on their favourite teacher.
From the edge of the last step down to the concrete that's been painted with yellow stripes for the comforting safety of the public, I exit out of the sheltered bridge that looms over the tracks. My previously hasty steps slow down dramatically as I get hit with a harsh breeze belonging to the low outside temperature.
The tip of my nose stings from the cold, but amidst there he is yet again. The same blonde hair, and a straight face that smiles playfully when catching a glimpse of a parent and their child laughing as one.
Do I look alright? Is any of my hair sticking out? Does my outfit make me look weird? 'I should've changed out of it…' I ponder, pulling out my phone and using it as a mirror.
I look past my phone, to where he's stood.
And his eyes are locked onto me.
No way. "He can't possibly be looking at me exactly
I turn my head to look behind me, because certainly it would be stupid for me to even consider that I'm the one he's looking at. But I see nothing but the stairs I recently went down.
I look back at him, his head now tilting at me, holding the same eye contact as earlier, but looking a little more confused this time.
I swivel my head back to the stairs, feeling a throb in the back of my neck from the speed at which I turned around.
But it's only fair that I'm confused. His eyes are directed at me but he doesn't even know who I am. This time, his hand rises to his shoulder height, his wrist turning as if he was greeting someone.
But who else if not me?
Is he some paranormal medium that can see ghosts?
It makes me feel kind of pathetic. Especially when you consider that I'd rather believe in the supernatural, instead of the idea that he's actually taken notice of me.
His hand slowly lowers, palm still open and hanging. The smile plastered across his face gradually stretching into a neutral line. I can't stop feeling responsible and also a little guilty, as if I were the cause behind it.
Therefore, hesitantly, my hand raises to my side. Not a proper wave, but recognizable as a greeting. Nevertheless, the small greeting was short-lived; The cold pricking the tips of my fingers makes me get a move on and harshly stuff them into the pockets of my coat.
I didn't even dare to watch his expression change when I returned with my greeting. The idea of making it awkward lingered in my mind. And for that, I've now probably come off as some anti-social adult, great.
Great going there Mila!
I drag my feet to a bench in the centre of the platform. I stared at it for a moment, paying attention to the wood almost cracked through, and the vaguely blue-coloured steel.
After a thought, I sit down on said bench, my body sinking into my coat instantly. I look off into the distance, where some of the buildings poke through the fence of the train station.
But like a pre-schooler fawning over my first crush, my eyes slowly direct towards where he was.