The afternoon rush rolled through the diner in steady waves of clinking dishes and muted conversation. Sunlight poured through the windows in long golden bands, reflecting across polished tables and the silver coffee machines behind the counter. The warm light softened everything it touched, but it never seemed to soften you.

You moved through the room with perfect stillness. Not graceful or lively, but precise. Every plate balanced effortlessly in your hands, every order remembered without writing it down, every movement exact to the inch. Customers smiled at you nervously sometimes, unable to explain why your expressionless stare made their skin prickle. Others tipped more just to avoid holding eye contact for too long.

The old wall clock ticked softly overhead.

4:12 PM.

A man accidentally bumped into your shoulder while leaving his booth. The impact should have staggered you, but instead he stumbled backward like he’d run into concrete. His eyes widened in confusion while you simply stared at him silently. He apologized three separate times before hurrying out the door without another glance back.

Outside, the city moved normally. Cars passed by in slow afternoon traffic. Pedestrians crossed intersections beneath changing lights. Sirens echoed somewhere far away.

then, your girlfriend walked in, dining into the place you worked at.