MELLY
“I swear there’s something fundamentally wrong with you,” Nikkie grumbles, her voice heavy with the raspy weight of exhaustion. Her droopy green eyes struggle to stay open as she gazes at me, framed by the disarray of her chaotic morning—a sweater clinging haphazardly to one shoulder and blonde hair tumbling in limp waves across her face. The air between us is thick with coffee steam and the scent of syrup, blending into the soft hum of the café around us.
I smile, indulgent. She is a perfect contrast to me. Her disheveled state feels almost artistic, like an abstract interpretation of disorder. In my world, chaos is rare and curated, and Nikkie is my only consistent exception. I enjoy her mess, perhaps because I can keep it neatly framed at arm’s length.
“Who the fuck gets up at seven in the morning on a Sunday?” she groans, smacking her hand against the rim of her coffee cup.
“Churchgoers,” I reply, tracing the edge of my mug with a fingertip. My voice is light, but there’s a hollow echo beneath it, a sense of something I can’t quite name.
“Well, you don’t go to church. You just like to torture yourself,” she snaps, rolling her eyes so dramatically they nearly disappear beneath her lids. “You’re insane,” she mutters, dragging her mug closer and taking a long, exaggerated sip. Foam clings to her nose, unnoticed. “I’d never survive in your world.”
Her words hit me strangely, as if they’ve caught on a jagged edge inside me. I glance down at the porcelein cup in my hands. Tea. “That makes two of us,” I reply softly.
Nikkie doesn’t notice the shift in my tone; she’s too busy glaring at her cup like it owes her an apology. “You say yes to everyone and everything at any given time,” I tease, attempting to redirect. “Always last minute. Like a ticking time bomb.”
“It’s better than having a hyper-specific routine for everything,” she snaps, her eyes fixing on her mug.
Her words strike again. A hyper-specific routine. My life mitigated into a string of predictable moments. I lean back, smiling with a short laugh. Her glare back is deathly and perfect. She huffs and grins, though her movements are sluggish. The night has clearly taken its toll. Smudged mascara clings to the corners of her eyes like fading shadows. The deep-set lines on her forehead are knotted, her exhaustion pooling in every corner of her face. “Last night was... messy,” she admits, her words trailing off.
“Messy is your specialty,” I reply lightly. But even as I say it, my gaze lingers on her, on the smudged remnants of last night’s chaos. There’s a comfort in her messiness, a familiarity that feels almost safe. She’s the opposite of everything I strive for, and yet, in moments like these, I envy her ease with it.
Nikkie groans, flopping her head forward into her hands. “I ended up at that new club on Miver Avenue. Got plastered. Woke up feeling like death.”
I arch a brow, leaning forward. “No hookups?”
She shoots me a glare, but her lips twitch involuntarily with a slight smile. “Close,” she mutters, her cheeks flushing a faint pink.
“Close?” I laugh, as I lean in. “What does that even mean?”
Nikkie glances up at me with a sly look, her expression a mixture of embarrassment and satisfaction. “I have a date on Wednesday…” she says, her voice laced with a hint of pride.
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“Oh?” I press, the corner of my mouth quirking upward. “Met him at the club, did you?”
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“Yeah, his first time at one,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Name’s Peter. He’s... a Christian.”
I nearly choke on my tea. “Peter? Is he eighteen?”
Nikkie laughs, a short, sharp sound. “No. He wanted to try something new. He’s... nice.”
The way she says the word tells me everything I need to know. Nice isn’t her type. Nice doesn’t hold her attention. But she’s trying, and there’s something about that effort that tugs at me. I don’t believe her but I’m hoping for the best. “Well,” I say, “I hope he surprises you.”
“Whatever. You’re lucky I love you enough to be here right now.” She grumbles into the coffee mug.
What does she mean by that? So lucky to have me here? “You only said no to him because you had to have breakfast with me so early.” I say to her smugly. “And now you're seen as a little more of a hookup.”
Nikkie glances back at me, her mouth shut in silent protest She looks away. “Don’t think this means I’m not annoyed. I had to push back what could have been a very interesting evening just to be here with you.”
I smile at her. “You prefer it this way anyway, you’re a romantic at heart. And he most likely wouldn’t have asked you on a date if you had slept with him.” I reason.
“Yeah, sure.” She scoffs, but she knows I’m right.
“I guess having to wake up early was more of a blessing in disguise than you thought.” I take a sip of my tea clearly mocking her tiredness as she shakes her head, before letting out a small laugh.
“I hate you, really I do.” She looks down as she tries to maintain a façade of indifference, although her fidgeting with her cup betrays her discomfort. She offers a half-hearted frown, clearly trying to downplay her feelings “So, any changes to your routine? Anything interesting happen this week?”
My lips press into a thin line. Changes. I feel my grip tighten on my mug, the familiar resistance rising. “I have a new project,” I say finally. “An illustration commission.”
Nikkie hums, leaning forward with a smirk. “Another children’s book?” I nod, and she rolls her eyes. “Same, same,” she says, her tone playful but sharp. “Melly, nothing ever changes with you. You never go anywhere to meet anyone.” She speaks. “You spend your time getting off on a well-organized bookshelf.”
The words hang between us, weighted. She’s right, of course. Nothing ever changes. And I like it that way. “Good. I like my boring life the way it is.”
Nikki’s voice cuts through the air. “You know what I’m saying! You need to shake things up, Melly. Do something unpredictable. Hell, get laid for once.”
Before I can respond, our food arrives, the clatter of plates a welcomed distraction. Nikkie’s words linger, her tone sharp but wrapped in a veil of fondness. I know she wants what she thinks is best for me. And she thinks me adding a little more of hers to mine would be a good thing. But I’m successful. I have a routine; everything is perfectly the way it is.
“Thank you,” I say, accepting my plate with a small smile. I glance at Nikkie, who’s staring at me with a look that could pierce steel. “I like my routine.”
Nikkie rolls her eyes as she digs into her breakfast.
“Hey, come on. You wouldn’t have it any other way, I keep your psycho in check. I say letting out a laugh although. My life is the way it is for a reason, and I don’t need it to change. It has changed enough too many times throughout my existence. And it’s safe. I’m happy.
Our conversational banter continued as we made our way through the crisp morning air out onto the streets, leaving behind the breakfast crowd at the café. Nikkie now flittered beside me, bubbling with energy from her coffee and breakfast.
“Parve’s Petal’s” She grin’s playfully as she skips up to a welcoming blend of whitewashed bricks and warm wooden accents. The display window showcased a vibrant array of seasonal blooms, colours and fragrances inviting passersby’s into its embrace. The next location on my schedule.
Every Sunday after breakfast we go to this little florist on my way home. I pushed open the door, to a familiar chime that herald our arrival, as usual. The interior was a sensory delight: the air was thick with the sweet scent of flowers, mingling with the subtle notes of earthy greens.
Liam Parve, the shop’s owner and the epitome of awkwardness, was as usual standing at the counter arranging a bouquet with meticulous care. His sandy hair was slightly tousled, and his movements were jumpy and marked by a clear nervousness. As soon as he saw us, a shy smile spread across his face, though his eyes darted away as always.
“Morning, Melly.” Liam greeted, his voice a gentle murmur barely audible as he speaks to me. His voice rising as he speaks clearer to Nikkie. “Nikkie. I’ll get your order”
He calls as he walks out to behind the shop’s counter, letting us wander around his arrays of flowers.
Nikkie’s eyes light with a mischievous grin on her face before he comes out with three small bouquets. Despite his undeniable awkwardness, there was at least some grace in the way he handled the flowers, his fingers gently shifting and adjusting their positions in the paper around their stems. I watched as he bunched my flowers, keeping them neat and correctly positioned in bundle. He looked up briefly, his eyes trying hopelessly to meet mine.
I turn my face away and Nikkie comes over grabbing at my arm and whispers. “He’s so into you.”
“Shush.” I hiss at her. “I know.”
She rolls her eyes and pushes off me slightly before turning to Liam. She walks over almost skipping as she smiles up at him, the excited thing that she is. But Liam looks at her with a slight disapproval. Probably at the excitement in his quaint store.
“These are so pretty.” She smiles down at the flowers. Grinning “They are always perfect,” Not even noticing his glance, she looks back at me trying to encourage me over to talk to him. I know what she’s doing, and I’m ignoring it. He likes me, she knows it and is trying desperately to get me involved.
Don’t get me wrong. Liam is conventionally attractive, strong jaw, nice dark green eyes, blonde, tanned, his facial features a little slimmer, but in a sharp, almost defined way. A slim but decently strong figure, big hands which would be a plus, if they weren’t shaking adjusting petals on flowers.
Liam however pulls aside the carnations for Nikkie. “This week we have in yellow and purple carnations.” He says putting on a polite smile for her.
“Perfect. Thanks Liam” She smiles as she looks back at me turning fully away from him. “Melly”
I turn back to her and she gives me a glance, flicking her eyes from Liam to me. It takes everything in me not to roll my eyes as she gestures to him. “You know, Melly,” she said with a hint of mischief in her voice, throwing a sidelong glance at Liam. “Today could be the day where you make a change. Add some spice to your life.”
She flicks her gaze at Liam again. No way am I making a move on him or even giving him a chance. But I need to stop her before Liam actually realizes what’s going on. Liam’s eyes are fixated on me, focused as I slowly walk over. “No thanks.” I say eying her. “I like my boring daisies.”
I say as I come right up to the counter swaying towards her giving her a warning look. I look down at my daises, clearly using them as a metaphor. As I walk over, Liam’s shoulders tense up as though I were a panther stalking him like he were a doe. As he cringes back slightly when I glance up at him giving a small smile and looking down at my flowers.
“You could… just give it a chance.” She says looking at me leaning on the counter, a playful look on her face. I shake my head at her.
“I could show you some other arrangements if you would like?” He leans in slightly his voice soft as he clears his throat trying to get my attention. I smile up at him trying to be polite, he has no idea what Nikkie’s even referring to. But his eyes are almost pleading with me.
“Thanks, but… these are my favorite,” I tap my card. As I wrap my hands around my daisies.
He gives a shaky nod, not taking his eyes off me as they follow me out of the store while I gather my daisies, bouquet of lavender and Nikki’s carnations with me. “No worries.” He speaks.
I slowly turn away from him and walk away with Nikkie “Come on girl.” She says her tone sharp as if I’m missing out on the opportunity of a life time.
“Enjoy the flowers, Melly.” Liam calls raising his hand in a jittery mess, as I make it to the door of his florist. I smile as I leave the boutique with Nikkie who’s glaring at me, disappointed.
As we stepped out of Parve’s Petals, I clutched the bouquet of different flowers, with Nikkie who’s frustration grew warmer and more immediate.
“You can’t even consider the poor guy?” Nikkie said, her tone sharp as she tugged me gently toward the sidewalk.
I shrugged. “He’s shy, Nikkie. I didn’t want to make things anymore awkward than what they are.”
Nikkie’s eyes narrowed with a mix of determination. “Awkward? Please, if you just gave him a chance, that would probably calm those nerves.”
I go to interrupt her and remind her that he’s been 2 years I have been going to that flower shop and nothing has changed. But instead of letting me argue she presses a finger to my lips and continues speaking “Bup, bup, bup…The guy’s been practically dropping hints since forever. He’s been pining over you for so long. He’s cute, and he’s into you. What’s the harm in letting him know you’re interested?”
“That’s exactly it. I’m not interested.” I say to her speaking up as I roll my eyes.
She shushes me again chattering through an animated expression. “Well, you should be, he is good looking, he’s sweet.”
I shook my head. “Too sweet and too awkward. And those looks only go as far as his ability to use them.” I frowned, recalling Liam’s fidgeting behind the counter, his posture screaming anxiety.
Shoulders drawn in as if trying to disappear, every time I glanced up. Eyes widening with a pleading, fragile desperation. And when I thanked him, his face flushed and he trembled, unable to mask his textbook case of pitiable charm.
Nikkie’s face twisted into a grin. “You’re one to talk. His experience is probably as good as yours.”
“Hey!” I frown at her, glaring.
“It’s true. You never go anywhere to meet anyone.” She speaks. “You spend your time getting off on a well-organized bookshelf.”
I glare at her. She’s right. I don’t do anything spontaneous. I am social if you count talking to my neighbours when I walk past. But that’s about it. I don’t give myself much opportunity to date. And I wouldn’t exactly call Mrs. Faris, my sixty something year old neighbor an option.
“So… perhaps it’s time to bring someone else into your life, someone just as quiet and simple as you.” Nikkie nudged me playfully, trying to maintain her upbeat demeanor despite my frown. In protest I push her carnations into her hands.
“I’ll stick to just me.” I tell her speaking clearly.
She rolls her eyes, giving in, accepting defeat. “Melly you know you can’t be alone forever. I don’t want you to be all alone in your little world when you have people that would die to be part of it.”
She glances up towards Parve’s Petals one more time. Leaving with it the thought of Liam in my mind before she walks away with her bouquet of carnations. And the next thing I know. I’m sitting on a train back towards my neighborhood, face down staring at my sketchbook, blank, listening to the repetitive chug of the train.
I can feel a slight tremor in my fingers as I hold the pen, my mind clouded with a fog of distraction. It’s as if a faint, unsettling awareness is gnawing at the edges of my consciousness. A stark expanse of white beneath my pen, that seems to swallow my thoughts whole. Occasional murmurs of passengers, a distant buzz, leave me in a cocoon of uneasy silence.
It’s just Nikkie getting in my head about Liam. I’m sure of it. The page’s white shudders, under the evermoving shadows outside almost mocking me. Luminous hues scarce as darkness peruses the paper. I push the thought away, I’m not letting this get to me. I am not interested in Liam anyway, the thought of being with him makes me ail. But why am I so bothered? Is this what’s bothering me.
I stare into the blank page as if it has the answers to my question. In response it flickers back under the light, harboring no answer. Only presses back to me a rising discomfort, something unseen. Something prying on my skin, pricks my back, pinning each bump of cartilage up my spine.
What is wrong with me? I think to myself as my mind spins. I don’t want to change anything, he’s a dorky boy at a flower shop I go to. He’s hardly a man, spending all day arranging flowers. Seriously why is this getting on my nerves.
A wave of goosebumps crosses my skin in a mockery. Slowly creeping up to my neck my face is jerked up to meet a cold blue. Eyes of a stranger, locked on me through narrow slits.
I feel every nerve in my body flame. Every muscle tense as my world closed around his eyes. Incursion riddling, as it tears through me. And I’m suddenly feeling raw, like my flesh is not my own and the clothing I wear no longer is enough to cover myself.
Not even lingering for a second before his eyes turn away, snow like locks following. And he’s gone. Leaving me exposed.
He was watching me.
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And that is the end of part one. I hope you enjoyed. My novel starts off quite slow but I promise in time it'll be worth it.
Thank you so much for supporting me and post soon!
-Mianto
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