Verse 10

I was halfway through my fries—crispy, oily. To think some poor sucker spent over 20 Kraps for crisps.

“So… what are you performing later at the Open Mic?” Elena’s voice cut through the beat in my ears.

I blinked. Looked up.

She was staring at me, elbow on the table, chin resting on her palm, like she’d been waiting a while to ask that.

I suddenly noticed that there were only the two of us left. The other students had already left, probably to prepare for that open mic event thing.

“What?” I pulled out the earbud. “The Open Mic?”

“Yeah.” She nodded, brushing a strand of hair back. “We talked about it earlier, you said you would come.”

No I didn’t. I said no such thing.

“You could do like a poetry thing right?” she continued.

I laughed. An awkward, choke-on-a-fry kinda laugh.

“Me? No way. I’m not really good at talking in front of people”

“Doesn’t have to be talking,” she shrugged. “Could be music. A monologue. Or... spoken word.”

I tried to read her tone. Was she teasing me? Genuinely asking? Or just making small talk?

I would do a killer monologue if I was completely honest. Maybe I should ask what she was planning to do? It might be better If I let this die down so I can go back and get some sleep. Tomorrow we were going to be starting our classes after all.

I noticed she looked to the side, her hand cupping her cheek. She looked a bit sad. Was it me? Highly likely. I was boring the poor girl to death.

Well, it's probably for the best, by this time tomorrow she will be having fun with her friends, enjoying her youth, going to parties and whatnot. And I will be at my hostel watching a series or something. Natural order of things will finally be restored.

I was finally done with my food. I looked at hers and she had only eaten a piece of it. She’d only touched the fries and her juice. Everything else was still untouched. I can’t believe I paid for all this food and she didn’t even eat. How did I even end up paying for the food anyway? It’s not like she’s my girlfriend or anything. That sly vendor and her sharp tongue, bewitching me with her words, “Oh, handsome”, “ask your girlfriend?” Tricks to get me to spend what would have been my week budget. Women uniting to bleed me dry.

I stood up ready to go. I put my earbud in and everything when She suddenly exhaled, long and slow, as if she'd been holding something in since we sat down.

“You know,” she said, her voice softer than before, “when I was young, I loved listening to music a lot. Like, all the time. I’d sneak out of bed just to put my dad’s old headphones on and play the same song over and over. It was like... the only thing that made sense to me back then.”

She smiled a little, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“My parents used to fight a lot. Like, screaming matches in the living room. But I’d put the headphones on and pretend I was somewhere else. Somewhere I could just... exist without feeling like a glass about to shatter.”

She paused.

“I guess that’s why I love events like this. Open mic, performances... It’s not really about being good. It’s about being heard. You know? For once. Even if it’s just noise. Someone might be listening somewhere.”

That hit me in a weird way.

Like... I wanted to respond, say something, anything. Something meaningful. But I was drawing blanks. It got weirdly quiet, like all the noise from my head was gone.

She bagged the food she hadn’t eaten.

“I have to take this to my roommate, she eats like a pig,” she added quickly, like she realized she said too much.

Then she turned to me again. “Will I see you later at the Open Mic?”

I thought about it.

Long.

Hard.

I usually don’t care what people think about me, but for some reason... I didn’t want to disappoint her. I wanted to be there. I really did.

“I’m not sure, we’ll see,” I answered.

But I was sure.

I always was.

“Okay then, I have to go get ready. Um... goodbye.”

She leaned in and hugged me. It was a long hug, i think. Then again i don't have much experience in these situations.

I froze. My arms were still down at my sides. Maybe I was afraid to hug her back. Or maybe I just didn’t know how to.

She let go, turned, and walked toward the girls’ hostels

I stood there like a misplaced chair.

Then turned, shoved in my other earbud and hit play. I bought another juice at the stall, only Apple juice this time and went back to the hostels.

For some reason, the walk back felt long.

Longer than when I was with her.