The bitter chill continued to unwelcome itself in the town of Salem, the change in weather so suddenly surprised quite a few people. Some were eerily accustomed to the cold like our two newcomers; Mackenson and Chansen. How they could adjust rapidly to the weather change was quite peculiar. These two were found in a somewhat cramped apartment where they had little decor and for two men, they kept it tidy and unusually clean. Chansen could usually be found in their living room area, body slightly curled upright on his laptop, the sounds of clacking at the keys could be heard. Mackenson however, was usually out and about, making his rounds with the townspeople, most women enchanted by his charm. When Mackenson would arrive back at their apartment, he always brought back a woman he picked up and this could cause Chansen to head out, laptop in hand, and towards their local cafe Witch’s Brew. Today was one of those days, Mackenson made it uncomfortably clear that he needed the apartment. Moans and groans seemed to echo throughout their place and bounced back into Chansen’s eardrum.
Chansen did not mind though, for when he was in this mode of research, this was all he could keep his mind occupied. His research seemed to focus on finding out more information on Camila and her shop. He had some trouble finding out any sort of personal information on her which led him to believe she had more going on than she initially led on. He needed to know why she was passionate about the paranormal and what led to her intense interest in such things. As questions began to swirl around his mind, a fiery-haired woman approached him with a pad of paper and pen in hand.
Ginger-haired woman: “You getting the usual today sir?”
Chansen never paid much attention to the woman before and often forgot this woman always took his order. Being caught up in his thoughts and theories never made him think of looking up.
Chansen: “Yes, just the usua-”
Chansen stopped mid-sentence to admire the woman before him and he soon found himself stumbling over his words, a feeling that was new to him.
Chansen: “I-I…I mean…yes, I wou-would like the usual please.”
Ginger-haired woman: “Of course, coming right up!” The woman chuckled a bit and went to get Chansen’s usual, which was a black coffee with some sort of sweet pastry to accompany it.
As she clicked her pen and turned to go fetch his breakfast, Chansen noticed her beginning to stumble but was unsure of what. Without any sort of hesitation, he grasped her before her face met the floor. They locked eyes with one another, both of them having similar green eye colors, her freckled face soon turning bright red with embarrassment and Chansen realizing this may be an awkward situation for her.
Chansen: “Sorry! I just didn’t want you to get hurt…Grace.” he said, letting go of her waist and reading her name tag.
Grace: “Oh no, no, no! Please don’t apologize, I am just thankful I didn’t meet the floor…again. I am quite the klutz.”
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With piercing eyes watching what the commotion was, Chansen quickly scurried back to his seat. Hating how he unintentionally caused a scene because he knew he stuck out like a sore thumb. His appearance alone; pale skin, style of clothing, and dark circles plastered under his eyes already made people double-take. With this, he suddenly shot up from his seat again and slammed his laptop doing so.
Chansen: “Listen, I’m sorry, I think I should head out today. I do appreciate you always remembering my order, but I-...”
Grace: “Don’t you dare finish that sentence! Stay put mister!”
Chansen was red in the face, surprised by how comfortable she was even after the scene they caused. He also noted how casual she was about everything, this was just refreshing for him to feel such. Rustling with his hair, he awaited awkwardly for what Grace had to bring for him. This was all new to him; these fluttering feelings of being noticed and given something. Chansen never had the best upbringing and was usually left with nothing. He kept to himself and preferred to be forgotten so they wouldn’t bother anyone. Feeling like he was just invisible to the world made him feel some comfort in a way, especially with some of his secrets.
Grace: “Hey! Coffee and one of our chef’s most popular “spooky” creations…please it’s on the house!”
Chansen: “Oh no, I couldn’t possibly take this for free…let me at least pay you!”
Grace: “Oh shush! You helped protect this face! It is the least we can do!”
Chansen grabbed the paper bag and coffee cup from her because he felt she would protest further if he did. Grabbing his laptop with his free hand, he bowed his head as a means to thank her and Grace giggled at the sight.
Chansen: “Thank you for your kindness, but you are sweet to do this! Thank you so much again.”
Grace: “Silly, you’re acting like I will never see you again. This is your regular spot! But hey, anytime Mister Reg!”
Chansen thanked Grace before leaving again and with that, proceeded to go back to his apartment. Preoccupied with his thoughts and emotions that made his stomach drop, he was still in a bit of shock. That girl seemed to make special note of him and he felt bad he didn’t even bother to recognize her in return. Feeling ashamed and even embarrassed that he was so engulfed in his research he didn’t bother treating her with the same regard. It was not intentional, he just never realized that someone could remember him.
With these thoughts swirling around, Chansen already found his way to his apartment. Jingling around in his pockets, he finds his keys to his apartment. Trying to think of anything else besides that interaction, he tries to think about that shop down the block from them and why that aura was particularly strong. Then the vision of that fiery-haired girl flooded his mind again and he began to rustle his hair with frustration. Why was this girl still on his mind and why could he non-stop think about her? It was just one encounter for crying out loud! Without realizing it, he had walked up a few flights of stairs and there he was in front of his apartment door.
Banging his head lightly on the door, he unlocked the door to his place to quite the sight. There was Mackenson, with a woman on the couch who began to make motions towards his pants. His lips locked with hers and slight moans escaped her lips as the motions intensified. With this, Chansen gently closed the door and slightly covered his eyes trying to make his way to his room. Slowly inching past them, he made it to his door and the click of it closing made the sounds stop.
Mystery woman: “Did you hear that Mac? Is someone here?”
Mackenson: “Naaah babe, just focus on me and you. We were just getting to the best part.”
With this, the two continued and Chansen just slid down his door defeated and flustered. Not only couldn’t he find anything more about that paranormal shop, but he was also unfamiliar with these newfound feelings. What was he to do?