Fourth

x

I thought Elise and I were done discussing my resignation, but the next day, during breakfast, she did not stop asking questions like, if I was feeling good, or if my decision was final. There was still a month before the effectivity of my registration. With that time, I would work on finding another job. However, I should get ready first for the meeting I was assigned to attend on this day.

One month wouldn't be tough. I survived years of working with her, I could handle a month for sure.

"Hey, by the way, I'm going to hang out with my friends after work. You can join in the fun."

"Thanks, but I'll pass. Francis has asked me out tonight." I chimed in not looking at her. I was trying to figure out if I put sugar on my cup of coffee. I didn't remember getting one.

"Francis?" she asked, astounded.

I looked up to see her reaction, and it was painted on her face that she was a bit perplexed upon hearing the name.

"The officemate,"

"Sort of reminds me of Francis, your journal guy. I wonder where he is now."

The thought of Francis and the journal incident came to mind once again. I was still hopeful that he had the chance to read it, or even peeked at the words inside it. I refrained from checking his name on the internet anymore, doing that would just let my feelings resurface again. It would turn me back to the time and memories when I was so overwhelmed with my feelings for him.

Maybe he was somewhere in the states now, living his good life. Working with the job he loved, and probably was with somebody he liked. Francis was the kind of guy who did things he preferred the most. He would be the risk-taker; whereas, I was the one who was too indecisive to make my own choices. Certainly, we won't make a perfect match.

It was just a bit funny to work with someone who was also named Francis, they have the same first names, but they differ in personality.

I wonder if Francis, the journal guy, was doing well.

And then suddenly, I came to realize that I did put sugar in my coffee.

"Wait, don't tell me that you and this Francis, the office guy, are dating," Elise announced.

The kind of look on her face showed she figured out something from the past while holding her spoon.

"Nope, not the idea you have in mind. We're good friends."

"You say so, hope you won't write a book of poems for him, as a good friend." she teased me.

That was the worse advice she had given me. I could not help myself when I feel too many emotions. The feelings were so unique, that I could not even utter words. So, what I tend to do was put them into writing. The poetry compilation "A Year with You", the journal, was the first and last book I wrote for Francis many years ago.

I had promised myself the next time I would write, that would be for someone who was made for me. Not the someone I would admire from afar, but for someone who would be there for me physically, not just in my reverie, to understand and accept the types of Alexander Dominique I had in me.

Selfish to wish for someone whose eyes were fixed on me, selfish to think there was someone who would see me as his twilight and dawn, someone who would drink coffee with me every morning, and just talk about how blessed we were to have each other.

It was selfish to think that there was a guy who would be the Prince in my untold story. I had been fond of fairy tales, and dragons, and unicorns when I was a kid, but those things didn't seem to fit in the story of my life; it was not magical, just pipe dreams. I didn't own a pink horse, and there were no genies to grant my stupid wishes.

X

Great.

I was tasked to attend a meeting, to represent my boss. This meeting had something to do with the publishing of a new book, by a new author. Like a debut novel. I had not heard of the book title or the story plot, my boss just asked me to go and give her feedback. The usual stuff I do for her.

I arrived early at the venue. There was still ample time for me to idle, so I spent it by viewing the frames displayed in the lobby. This office was known bigtime to publish a lot of books, some well-known, and others were works of aspirant writers. After quite a moment of viewing the displays, I decided to head to the meeting room, maybe some of the attendees were already inside, waiting for the meeting to begin.

I had no problems with attending meetings. I liked to take down notes and do the minutes, I liked to talk to almost everyone especially when the topic was about books. Stories. Anything that could fill up the pages of blank a sheet.

"Good morning, I'm looking for Ms. Janice," I announced to the lady sitting behind a neat as a pin desk, she was engaged with something on her laptop.

She turned her gaze on me, "Hi, good morning. Is it about the book launch meeting?" she inquired, smiling.

"Yes," I replied calmly.

"Oh, the venue has been moved to the third floor. Seems like you were not informed beforehand," she explained.

Then she offered to walk with me to the new meeting place, but before she could even stand from where she was seated, someone had appeared before us.

"Hi, good morning. I have a meeting with Ms. Janice," the newcomer stated.

He was professionally dressed for this occasion. I thought of having a dream, that this was not the real situation I was in, but he looked a bit like him. But how come he was here when he was supposed to be somewhere else? Abroad. Wait, I should erase the thought that this guy was him. The journal guy, as Elise referred to him, would probably be in another business world, and not in this kind of work that I was into.

He seemed to notice my presence and smiled at me. I thought I looked familiar to him too, but I was not. Certainly, we were strangers to each other.

"I'm also to attend the meeting." I smiled back at him, "And she informed me that the venue has been moved to the next floor," I was referring to the lady whom I did not dare ask for her name.

"Is that so? We can go together. By the way, I'm Mike from the Summer Publishing House. I've never seen you in the past meetings here."

He held out one hand, and we shook hands.

After that, we went to the venue together. We forgot that a lady at the information desk had offered to escort us to the board room. We both laughed because we were not able to thank her.

I almost told him he did look like someone I knew from college, but I held back and shut my mouth.

X

The meeting went well, as expected. The story plot was interesting, not the usual one expected in a book, though the ending was unexpected. By all means, the debut novel would be a bestseller.

The next thing I knew, I was walking inside a coffee shop. I wanted to treat myself to a cup of coffee after a long productive day. The meeting adjourned just in time, so I had enough hours to spend it alone before going back to the office. After this, I would be back to the drawing board. I could already picture myself sitting on my office chair, typing on my laptop, and waiting for the time to pass as quickly as possible. Or perhaps, I could go home after drinking coffee and rest, maybe that was me hitting the nail on the head. Yes, maybe.

While in line, trying to think of what I should get, I scanned the area for possible vacant chairs. But I failed to look for a vacant table for myself. I ordered a drink when I got my cue and decided to sit outside, where the available seats were awaiting me. Maybe some customers didn't want to watch people as they pass by the coffee shop at the time from the outside, so they had decided to stay inside and just enjoy the ambiance.

I placed my things on my seat, and then suddenly I felt that I craved to eat something sweet to satiate my appetite. I decided to get Elise something, she was a lover of sweet food, aside from the fact that sweets could light up her mood, it would be my way of thanking her for last night.

I wandered back towards the coffee shop. Surprisingly, the line was beginning to shorten. Good thing, I would not wait long in line to get a slice of cake and a treat for Elise. While I rummaged through my bag, for my phone, I accidentally dropped my coin purse. It flew right in front of the table across me.

I was picking it up when something caught my attention.

There was a familiar book laid down on the table. No one was occupying the table, and there were no signs of things that could belong to someone except for the book. The table was free for customers to use it. Without thinking twice, I sauntered toward the table and checked if I was not just seeing things. After confirming that it was the same journal, I wrote for Francis years ago, I gasped. If hearts could speak, mine would let out a shriek. My heart wouldn't go with just saying "wow", but it would probably scream itself out of my chest. I felt the warmth of my face, my heart was abnormally doing a cartwheel.

What was this journal doing in this place? At this point? How did it get here? I immediately scanned the place to search for someone, for a person that I would probably recognize once I see him. But I failed. No one like Francis was inside this coffee shop. I held the book with a trembling hand and hoped that this was not happening, that it was all an illusion. And someone would pinch me to wake me up from this bad dream. Or might as well slap me hard.

"Excuse me, have you seen the person sitting here a while ago?" I asked the teenager seated on the chair adjacent to where I was standing.

Without a doubt, this place was jampacked with people earlier when I came in. There was no available seat at that time. If Francis was here, he could still be somewhere near the area.

"Sorry, I haven't," the teenager replied, shaking her head.