It was a windy late afternoon. The bar was nearly empty except for a mysterious figure crouched at the far end of the corner, towards the emergency exit door. He was busy lost in thought as he gingerly held an intricately carved fountain pen and kept spinning, looping it between his slender fingers. His back was to the main seating area.
One could only see his long exquisite black coat and black boots with silver work on them. He had tethered book with tattered pages in front of him and the markings of some words inked across them in a strange script. He was wearing a fedora hat that hid more of his face. His profile gave away only long locks of hair that fell across his face.
A few workers finishing the day’s early morning shift walked in, loud and noisy and looking quite happy to be at the bar. There were three of them and worked as loggers. All of them were heavily built from their laborious work and sat down in front of the bartender who was busy wiping glasses and putting them away. The bartender was new and had moved into town about three months ago. The mysterious man in the corner had turned up just a week ago.
The youngest among the three workers was barely 23 but built like a tank already. He had been the soccer team captain at the university, the most popular and eligible boy that every girl wanted to date. He was not very good at studies but excelled at every type of sport including swimming. He wasn’t too fond of swimming though. Everyone assumed he would remain in the city after graduating and pursue a career in sports and modelling.
But to everyone’s surprise and disappointment, soon after graduation, he had to return to this small town to be with his ailing grandfather. He was the most handsome boy in this town too and all the women could not stop gushing over his good looks. Even young girls as young as 13 wanted to grow up quickly to become his lady!
His life had been alright all these years, and he pretty much got whatever he wanted on a platter. He had dated many girls, he never really had to try as nearly every one of them would literally throw themselves at him. His female teachers were no exception.
At the young age of 23, he was tired. Tired of being objectified wherever he went. No one wanted to really look at him. Not just his handsome face, but beyond that. He tried to date all kinds of girls, pretty, not so pretty, tall, short, rich, poor, smart, not so smart, but not one of them wanted to really know him.
Most of them wanted to sleep with him or jump to marriage talks and make babies with him. He did try to make conversations but the girls only giggled and acted coy. He was more of a trophy to show off than a man with thoughts and dreams.
He changed girlfriends like he would shed his clothes after a good game. Most of his guy friends over the years had also become quite shallow. They loved and enjoyed his company as most girls tried to befriend them to get close to him. Many even agreed to dates with them to get a chance to get introduced to him. They did not care about him as a real friend should. He had simply grown to accept this.
He longed to someday enjoy chasing someone and trying to impress a girl. Someone who would make him try harder to get to bed. Someone who would enjoy more talks with eye contact and try to read his true feelings. Someone who would make him gush and blush. He had resigned to the fact that he may never find true love. He once wanted to know what it was like to blush! To sit at a beach, hold hands, stare at the stars and just ramble on about life! Share a soft kiss and lie down on her lap as she would caress his hair and listen to his innermost thoughts.
He had started working with the logging company a year ago and enjoyed a drink at the bar every day with the other men nearly twice his age. Today, he was especially low as one of the workers had gotten injured when a log slipped and fell. He had to automatically fill in and do two persons’ workload as he was the youngest and strongest among all the middle-aged men.
As they settled down in front of the bartender, the other two men continued their loud and noisy banter. He sat a little away from them and waited for the bartender to walk up to him. The bartender was busy smiling at his colleagues and taking their order. He finally got a chance to look at the bartender properly for the first time since he had started working here.
He was startled to notice that he had hair that flowed all the way to his hips. They were long and almost dark silvery grey. They were almost bluish-grey. Or maybe a mix of blue, grey and silver? He could not decide but he concluded that they were exquisite. He had tied a tight bun with half his hair and the rest flowed. There were stray locks of hair that fell across his face reaching just below his jawline. Jaws!
His jawline was incredibly sharp but he also had high cheekbones. His eyes were smiling and nearly became slits when he grinned while his lips felt like butter melting. They were thick but soft and almost translucent pink. His face looked like a painter had spent all his life creating his favourite masterpiece. Beautiful, pretty, wait a moment. How could a man look this beautiful?
He looked so soft and child-like and yet there was a strength about him that made him manly too. He was trying to squint at his earrings as they dangled like tiny pendulums teasng his jawline. Suddenly, he was staring directly into a hypnotic set of eyes as the bartender locked his sight on him! His heart froze.