Chapter Two: A Strange Feeling
1012 Words
Joshua’s POV
For a few seconds after Symphony said those two words to my ear, I forgot how to think properly.
You’re late, not hello, not nice to meet you.
Not even the normal fake small talk strangers usually forced on each other.
I laughed because, honestly, what else was I supposed to do?
“Late for what?” I asked with a curious face.
She stepped back like she hadn’t just said the strangest thing I had heard all week.
“For your haircut, at almost ten o’clock at night?”
“You’re very weird,” I said to her, and a smile was on her lips.
“I’ve heard worse.”
For some reason, that made me smile too.
Talking to her felt like trying to catch smoke with my hands. Every answer she gave only created more questions.
She sprayed little water through my curls and started combing through them carefully.
Neither of us spoke for a moment.
The rain continued falling while soft music played from somewhere in the salon.
It should have felt weird sitting there with a stranger so late at night. But instead, it felt nice.
Maybe that was why I stayed.
Many people spend the first conversation trying to impress each other.
Symphony didn’t seem interested in that, she wasn’t asking about my money.
She wasn’t trying to flirt, neither was she trying to make me like her.
And that made me pay even more attention to her.
“You’ve been staring at me since you came in,” she teased.
I smiled.
“You’re staring back.”
“That’s because you’re sitting in front of my mirror.”
“You don’t smile much,” her eyes stayed on mine like she was trying to figure something out.
“I smile.”
“No. You smile now.”
I looked at her and said, “You’ve known me for twenty-three minutes.”
“Twenty three?” she blinked, then she smiled.
“I was joking.”
Something about the pause before her answer made me suspicious.
It wasn’t enough to worry me but notice
“You always pay attention to details?” I asked.
“Most times.”
“Sounds exhausting.”
“It can be.” she said in a tired way.
The kind of tiredness people carry when they have been dealing with something for a long time.
But before I could think about it, she was already focused on my hair again.
“So,” she said, “tell me about her.”
I felt off immediately.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The heartbreaking conversation.”
“You brought it into the salon.”
I laughed.
“That’s unfair.”
“You look like somebody who hasn’t slept properly in weeks.”
“That’s a bit rude.”
“It’s also true.”
Unfortunately, it was.
The last few months had been rough. Work helped, Daniel helped and Elizabeth helped.
But every now and then I still remembered walking into that hotel room and seeing Vanessa with somebody else.
Some memories stay forever, no matter how much time passed.
“She really hurt you, didn’t she?” Symphony asked.
I looked at my hands and kind of considered giving the usual answer. The one I gave everyone.
Which was I’m fine.
But this time, I didn’t.
“Yeah,” I admitted.
Symphony didn’t rush to fill the silence after that.
She just nodded like she understood, like she knew exactly what that kind of hurt felt like.
“Then she’s stupid,” she said so easily that i almost laughed.
I looked up.
“What?”
“If somebody spends two years loving you and throws it away, they’re stupid.”
A laugh fell from my mouth.
“That’s a very confident opinion.”
“I said what I said.”
That made me laugh even harder.
For the first time that day, the weight on my chest felt lighter.
She noticed, I could tell from the small smile she tried to hide.
The bell above the door rang, and both of us looked up.
A woman stepped inside carrying a wet umbrella.
She looked around before spotting Symphony.
“Oh good, you’re still here.”
Symphony nodded.
The woman turned toward me, then her eyes moved between both of us.
“Oh,” she said.
I pointed at her saying, “Why do people keep saying that?”
She laughed.
“No reason.”
That usually meant there was definitely a reason.
The woman took something from a shelf near the counter before turning back toward Symphony.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Drive safely.”
A few seconds later, she was gone. The salon became quiet again.
I looked at Symphony.
“Now I’m curious.”
“About what?”
“Whatever she was thinking.”
“Trust me. You don’t want to know.”
That answer only made me more curious.
The problem was that every conversation with Symphony seemed to end the same way.
With me wanting to know more.
By the time she finished my haircut, I had completely forgotten that I only entered the salon because I looked homeless.
I looked at myself.
“Okay. That’s actually nice.”
A proud smile appeared on her face.
“I know.”
I laughed.
The confidence was fun but it suited her.
I reached for my wallet and stood up.
Before I could say anything, Symphony looked at me and said,
“You’ll come back.”
I paused.
“What makes you say that?”
“You will.”
“And what if I don’t?”
She looked directly into my eyes, she didn’t look through the mirror but from across the room.
“Then I’ll be disappointed.”
Those words followed me all the way home.
And after the rain stopped, I still found myself thinking about Symphony.
It wasn’t just because she was beautiful, also because she was mysterious.
But because something about her felt familiar.
And I couldn’t explain why.
- Writer
