Rude People Aren't Born They Are Made

As Vincent's mood eased with the enchanting music, he drew a deep breath and glanced once more at the digital clock—it was the sixth time he had checked it.

The hour was now well past midnight—3:00 AM. Vincent couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps he had mistimed his visit to the cafe.

Though he had willingly chosen to sit here and explore its peculiarities, an unexplainable sense of heartbreak lingered as time crept by.

The anticipation of something elusive felt like a waking nightmare, a sentiment Vincent knew all too well.

His cold coffee mug sat empty before him, and with a blink, Vincent thought to himself,

"Maybe I should wait a little longer to see if someone arrives. Surely, my luck can't be this bad!"

Though he couldn't comprehend why hope had been so fleeting after just being reignited, the challenge of waiting without knowledge of the reward tested his resolve.

Vincent's gaze drifted from the floor to the silent, empty street outside—solitude enveloped everything in a palpable hush.

Restless with the weight of unexpected fate, Vincent's fingers tapped nervously on the table.

Before he could succumb to despair and rise from his seat, a voice reached his ears, audibly clear yet seemingly meant for him alone.

— "Hello!"

It was a woman's voice—sweet, lovely, yet tinged with a hint of dramatic allure. Startled, Vincent turned his gaze around, searching inside the cafe for the source. He found no one beside him, yet the voice persisted.

— "May I know who I'm speaking with?"

The voice, thin yet resonant, emanated from the other side of the partition. Vincent listened intently, taken aback by its flawless timbre—the most pleasant he had ever heard from a woman.

Gathering his wits amidst a surge of nervous excitement, Vincent replied, his voice betraying his anxiety.

— "Yes, of course. I'm Vincent!"

Vincent detested the tremor in his voice, a sign of this unprecedented experience disrupting his usual routine. His gaze fixated on the black partition, scanning it intently.

— "Oh! I'm Vanessa! Lovely to meet you, Vincent!"

Before Vincent could fully process Vanessa's mention of his name, the cafe's lighting suddenly shifted, casting a cool blend of golden and cherry-red hues—a perfect tableau for a romantic rendezvous.

The ambiance was now suffused with a calm, yet bittersweet romantic atmosphere.

As Vincent glanced overhead, he noticed the lights sparkling like a rainbow.

— "The lights changed all of a sudden."

Vincent remarked slowly, prompting a casual response from Vanessa, whose face remained unseen behind the partition.

— "It's quite unexpected, isn't it?"

Vincent glanced at the partition and spoke again.

— "Um, yes. It's actually my first time here at Wabi-Sabi Cafe. I've never been before."

— "Really? It's my first time out of the house in two years."

— "Two years?"

Vincent questioned with a mix of surprise and curiosity at Vanessa's revelation.

Vanessa paused momentarily, either hesitant to share more about herself or uncomfortable with the personal nature of the conversation, hidden as they were behind the partition.

— "Basically..."

Vanessa began to explain but hesitated mid-sentence before continuing.

— "I stay home most of the time, only going out for important matters."

Vincent caught the hesitation in her voice and replied politely.

— "I see."

Silence lingered between them for a few moments. Vincent realized that conversing with a total stranger was more challenging than he had anticipated. He gathered his thoughts and asked hesitantly,

— "By the way, should I call you Vanessa, or do you have a nickname?"

From the other side of the partition, Vanessa's sweet voice echoed again.

— "You can call me Vanessa. So, what brought you to this cafe?"

Vincent's eyes widened at the sudden question. He hadn't expected Vanessa to inquire about his reasons.

To clarify his thoughts, he spoke softly, ensuring his voice carried through the partition.

— "My reason?"

— "Is anyone else here besides us?"

Vincent couldn't quite grasp why Vanessa's tone had turned sharp or even annoyed. Vincent deliberated whether to be truthful.

Ultimately, they were strangers, and revealing his feelings wouldn't change anything. He decided to speak honestly.

— "I've been feeling dull and burdened with life. Today, overwhelmed, I noticed this cafe for the first time despite passing by it countless times. I felt compelled to visit."

He paused before asking,

— "Vanessa, what brought you here?"

Vanessa scoffed lightly, her expression clouding.

— "Tired of my life as a prostitute, so I thought I'd step out for a few hours."

Prostitute? Vincent was taken aback, almost in shock. Was Vanessa a prostitute, the owner of the voice he had been admiring?

He couldn't fathom that the voice belonged to a prostitute, let alone such a soothing and sweet one.

— "You mean... you're a pro... prostitute?"

— "Yes, I am. Surprised? Now you'll run away or refuse to talk further? Or are you interested in sampling my services?"

— "What? What are you saying?"

Vincent was completely caught off guard by Vanessa's candid remarks. He had never imagined that a voice as sweet as hers could say such things after just a few minutes of conversation. Vanessa's response was even bolder this time.

— "Don't pretend to be innocent. I know how men are. They all want one thing but won't say it outright."

Vincent vehemently objected to Vanessa's assertion.

— "Not every man is the same. If that were true, I wouldn't be sitting here, still a virgin."

— "Oh, offended, are you?"

Vanessa retorted, though Vincent remained silent, disliking her assumptions about men. Vanessa sensed the tension despite not seeing Vincent's expression.

— "Well, I'll concede, not every man is the same. But in my experience, they're all the same—selfish bastards. But you have a point."

Vincent continued the conversation in a calm manner, acknowledging Vanessa's perspective.

— "Well, now I can agree with you too. As a prostitute, you've seen the worst side of men."

Vanessa was curious and asked,

— "But what is your profession, Vincent?"

Vincent hesitated slightly before responding,

— "I am currently unemployed. Today, my manager fired me from my job."

Vanessa's voice echoed again from the other side of the partition,

— "Oh! Did you do something to get fired?"

Vincent explained,

— "I was a hardworking employee, always ready to do anything asked of me. But despite my efforts, I never received the respect I deserved. Today, I unintentionally made a mistake, and my manager insulted my parents and me. I couldn't control my emotions and ended up yelling at them, which led to my dismissal. Despite six years of hard work, I received nothing in return except mistreatment from greedy colleagues and managers. I became depressed about my life, so I decided to come to this cafe."

Vincent didn't understand why he was revealing so much, but he chose not to mention his suicide attempt.

He felt ashamed and didn't want to share such personal details with Vanessa. She responded with a mocking tone,

— "So, you get depressed in life over just a few things?"

Vincent tried to maintain politeness but couldn't help but respond with a hint of frustration,

— "Everyone's sorrows seem monumental to them. Your grief is significant to you, just as mine is to me."

Vanessa's confidence was palpable as she spoke,

— "Yep, that's true. But in that case, you should listen to my story. I bet you won't be able to say that your life is hard."

Vincent responded,

— "Are you challenging me, Vanessa?"

There was no immediate answer from the other side of the partition. Vincent found it difficult to discern Vanessa's movements due to the partition that separated them.

He knew little about her besides her captivating yet contradictory demeanor.

— "I'm not saying it's a challenge, but I just want someone who will listen to me. However, if you prefer, you can leave your seat, also I live nearby area of this cafe."

Vanessa replied, her tone fluctuating from somber to proud. Vincent was perplexed by Vanessa's behavior.

They had just met at the Wabi-Sabi cafe; shouldn't they engage with a bit more formality?

Vincent had no idea what a prostitute's life entailed; it was entirely foreign to him. He wasn't fond of Vanessa's brash attitude, but he was intrigued by the story behind her demeanor.

Vincent recalled a quote about rude behavior,

"Rude people aren't born with rudeness; they are made by someone."