I didn’t mean to stop and stare like that - but I couldn’t help it. It was… hypnotic, to say the least; every word rang out harmoniously, every note resonated vigorously - yet, despite all that colour, it remained calm in nature, his words eloquently cutting away at my worries and distractions till all I could do was focus on him.

Alas, it didn’t seem like the world wanted me to feel such peace for very long. My phone, its vibrations dragging me right back to the present moment, rang out in rude defiance, reminding me why I was here in the first place.

“It’s about time you picked up, Serah,” his sly, mocking voice pinged in a distorted tone, “I’ve been waiting.”

It was hard to hide my frustration at hearing his voice and a sigh escaped my lips against my will, “Just cut it out Sebas. I’ve brought the money so tell me where we’re meeting.”

His stupid chuckle made me want to be sick.

“What’s the rush, hun? I’m not going anywhere. This is a cause for celebration, don’t you say? How many generations has it been - three? Four, even? Finally, you guys have decided to end this feud.”

His words made me shudder, which I guess he must’ve heard, since he began cackling animalistically.

“Well, I say ‘you guys’, yet really it’s just you, isn’t it? Ah, this is truly golden - all this just to hide one measily secret from your family.”

“Disrespectfully, go fuck yourself.”

“Feisty one, are we? Careful now - you wouldn’t want the price of my silence to rise, would you?”

I bit my tongue at that, less to keep silent and more to find some sort of outlet for at least a tiny portion of of the bubbling pot of frustration I was feeling.

As if to make it worse, the man was packing up his equipment now - I never even realised when his angelic voice ceased to paint my background in hues of pink and orange.

I walked over to him, blending in with the crowd of people he seemed to have summoned around him so naturally, and slipped a tenner into the cup I saw.

It was an intriguing cup; it seemed to be a simple paper cup at first glance, yet the more I looked at the cup, the more I felt uneasy - like watching a moth get closer and closer to an open flame, idly floating towards it with blissful ignorance to the danger it was putting itself in for the sake of sneaking one extra look, closer and closer until it inevitably—

“… Miss?”

His voice dragged my focus almost immediately away from the cup, snapping my head upwards with stirred ferocity, only to fling it right onto his poor chin, sending the both of us clutching for our faces in pain.

“I - I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me—“

“Don’t… don’t stress it, Miss, it was a simple mistake. Are you okay?”

He looked even better up close.

Stopping my jaw from hanging like a limp arm was a conscious effort; everything from his deep, polished mahogany eyes, to his chocolate-smooth skin. Not to mention his voice; here I was praising his singing, not even wondering just how refined his speaking voice could possibly be.

Jeez, I sound like some desperate fan girl.

“I’m fine, really… oh, right, have this,” I finally put the tenner into the cup, followed by his genuine gratitude, “Your voice really is something else… you should make a career out of this if you can.”

“I’ll definitely keep it in mind. It’s a shame how family and responsibilities can get in the way of your freedom though.”

Never has a sentence resonated with me on such a deep level.

I gave a general, people-pleasing laugh, realising o didn’t have time for any more small talk. Try as I might, there’s no avoiding the harsh reality of my situation right now.

It was a lovely café all in all - it’s a shame this is where I have to make such a one-sided choice. The money doesn’t even guarantee me his silence, it just buys time for me to get my mess of a family together and stop them from destroying themselves from the inside out.

Who knew time could be so expensive.

“Ah, you came after all. Have a seat - I made reservations.”

I turned around to meet his narrow, slit-like eyes goading me to sit down. The only thing stopping me from putting a foot through that stupid skull was the fact that it was a pretty public place - as well as the fact doing that just wouldn’t benefit me in the long-term.

Reluctantly, I sat across from him, my heart beating for all the wrong reasons. I took the envelope out of my purse and slid it across from him, “You’ll keep your promise, will you not?”

“Telling you I will won’t change the doubt you have, so just see this as a temporary contract if it helps you better,” he laughed, irritating me that much more.

“Before we part though, there’s someone I’d like you to meet; I’ve figured you might go behind the deal and report me to my family Patriarch, so I’ve decided to bring him here to show the officiality of this deal. How about that, Sarah?”

My heart stopped.

I hardly get to see my own family Patriarch - let alone the one of our enemy. This could go so wrong, so fast; for all I know, this whole café could be under their jurisdiction, every single person here one of their own, waiting for their Patriarch to give the signal before they do the unthinkable.

I needed to get out of here; and fast.

“Woah, woah, woah there,” he reached over the table, grabbing my arm as I began to sit up, “What’s the rush? Where’s the feisty girl that spoke to me over the phone? Are you **trying** to make a commotion **here **of all places?”

Chills went down my neck at those words; was I right? What could he possibly mean by that? No, I had no time to think about that - I have to get out of here.

I tore my arm from his grip and hurriedly stumbled out of the café booth, heading straight for the door. I could see him getting up out of the corner of my eye - presumably to chase after me - but I had no time to stop, no time to think, no time to—

**_BAM!

_**I fell onto my back, stunned temporarily as I tried to figure out what on earth just went down. Wiping my eyes, I looked ahead only to see the same guy busking earlier - beautiful face and all!

To say I was confused would be an understatement. He got up before me, helping me up to my feet before also recognising me and breaking into the hottest chuckle I’ve ever heard in my life.

_(… I gotta sort myself out…)_

“Seems fate decided to have you continuously injure me today, hasn’t it?”

I laughed nervously at that, dusting myself off, “It would seem so, I’m really sorry about all this…”

“I-It can’t be…”

That voice snapped me right back to about 5 minutes before my second run-in with Mr Heartstopper - wasn’t I just running away from Sebas??

I looked back at him, wondering if I had any time to quickly slip past Mr Heartsnatcher (_wasn’t it just Heartstopper a paragraph ago?_) and make a run for it, but after seeing those sly, coin slot-like eyes so panicked, a sense of satisfaction and confusion came over me.

“… Patriarch..?”

…No, I must’ve heard that wrong. There are plenty of words he could’ve meant; maybe Pastor, Patrician, maybe even just parachute - see? Plenty of words he could’ve meant. I **must’ve** heard that wrong - no, I **definitely** heard that wrong.

The silence that rang out was beyond just deafening. I couldn’t tear my eyes off Sebas - I didn’t have the nerve to look anywhere else, nor the nerve to look back at Mr Wifestealer (_okay this is getting ridiculous now_).

“Sebas… why aren’t you sat with the client? You told me we were meeting someone. I didn’t rent out a whole café for nothing.”

He put his arm on my shoulder, and I swear to you I’ve never been so close to crying. What kind of timing is this? God must be rolling in his golden bed because there’s no way he’s not pulling my leg here.

“Well, about that—“

“Before that,” he interrupted, spinning me around to face him, “I’m very sorry about all this, I’d love to catch up later but I’m currently on some struck business… music-related business you could say.”

“… What..?”

“No, sir,” Sebas quickly interjected, “You don’t understand—“

“Silence, Sebas. Can’t you see I’m talking to a good friend of mine?”

“… Good … friend..?”

“I’m afraid we must catch up later,” he pulled me closer (_ohmahgodohmahgodohmahgod_) and whispered into my ear, “Just pretend you know me, you kinda got yourself in a sticky situation; under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t allow you to leave, but just promise to pretend nothing happened here; I trust you.”

I nodded, as confused as physically imaginable, and waddled out of there unscathed. The second I felt fresh, free air on my cheek, I sprinted out of there with such efficiency I’m surprised I didn’t break any world records on the way.

… Maybe God doesn’t hate me after all.