IT ALL STARTED FROM THAT BALCONY

It was one of those sticky, humid mid-October nights where even the air felt like it was pressing down on me. Almost midnight, everything was drenched in darkness, except for the faint yellow streetlight across from my house that barely lit up the small restaurant on the corner. I sat on the balcony in my lousy oversized shirt and jeans, hair pulled into a messy ponytail, pretending to revise for my exam. But who was I kidding? My eyes kept drifting from the pages to the guy across the street, the waiter.

He was in his mid-20s, I guessed, wearing an all-black uniform. His brownish curly hair shimmered under the streetlight as he wrapped up chairs and tables, getting ready to close the restaurant for the night. There was something about him, though. I couldn't see his face clearly, but I just knew he was handsome. Maybe it was the way he moved, casual but with purpose. I kept eyeing him, waiting...no, hoping that he'd notice me sitting up here. But nope, not even a glance my way. Seriously? I wasn't invisible! Every time he ignored me, it stung a little more. "Whatever, like I care," I muttered under my breath, even though I totally did.

After a while, I'd had enough. I snapped my book shut and stood up, storming off the balcony with an annoyed huff.

"Fine, don't look. Your loss".

I mumbled, feeling both embarrassed and irritated. As I headed inside, I didn't even bother to glance back. What I didn't see. What I had no clue about, was that the second I left, he sat down on one of those chairs he'd just wrapped up. Lighting a cigarette, he leaned back, and finally, finally, his eyes were on me, watching from the shadows as I disappeared inside.