norbuspa07
lbdl - Day Four (Ben's Blind Date)
1. Nervousness is just a word. What Ben was feeling was something long forgotten; the last time he felt this was years ago, maybe when he was a child.
The taxi arrived. He jumped in and started explaining to the driver how it was of utmost importance that they arrive as soon as possible at the destination. The driver nodded and said something in a foreign language. Ben misunderstood the driver's acknowledgment as a conversation starter and went on a tiresome nervous monologue about first encounters.
The clock was ticking. He was late.
2. Still nervous, he forcibly calmed himself by looking at his watch. She was late.
A familiar feeling crept into his mind. It was coming. But how? He started his breathing exercises; he would overcome this. Today was the day he would beat this curse of his. He took another one of Jonathan's miracle tablets. This one would make him more alert. He had to overcome this.
3. Desperately trying to stay awake, Ben sipped his drink and peered around the dimly lit room. Behind Melissa, shadows danced on the walls, blinding sparks in the flickering light of the old chandeliers. His hypersomnia made it difficult to distinguish between reality and the creeping tendrils of sleep, but tonight, something felt different. There was an otherworldly presence that seemed to permeate the very air he breathed. For a moment, he thought Jonathan's medications were off. Was he lying to him?
Was Melissa who she said she was? What was wrong with the sixth player in the band?
As the minutes ticked by, Ben began to notice subtle changes in his surroundings. The once familiar patrons of the café now seemed distant, their features distorted by an unseen force.
A cold shiver ran down Ben's spine as he realized he was not alone in his perception. Across the room, an old man with wild, white hair and tattered clothing was muttering to himself, his eyes darting nervously. Their gazes met for a fleeting moment, and Ben saw a flicker of recognition in the man's eyes—he, too, was aware of the presence that haunted the café.
He shifted his look to Melissa. Something was off about her expression. He needed to snap out of it. He needed his A-game now. Now or never.
4. Just a normal question for many, but for Ben, in a desperate fight for his sanity, he knew what horrors could be behind that question. This was the unraveling point of the night. It was over. He had lost.
5. It started with a short blackout, as it always did. A short break in consciousness. A blissful, intoxicating feeling of cloudiness. His head needed support. With a serene smile, he mumbled, pleaded for a nice fluffy pillow. A plea directed at no one in particular: Melissa, the waiter, the demon in the band, anyone.
As expected, the date ended with Ben falling asleep.
Listen
The taxi arrived. He jumped in and started explaining to the driver how it was of utmost importance that they arrive as soon as possible at the destination. The driver nodded and said something in a foreign language. Ben misunderstood the driver's acknowledgment as a conversation starter and went on a tiresome nervous monologue about first encounters.
The clock was ticking. He was late.
2. Still nervous, he forcibly calmed himself by looking at his watch. She was late.
A familiar feeling crept into his mind. It was coming. But how? He started his breathing exercises; he would overcome this. Today was the day he would beat this curse of his. He took another one of Jonathan's miracle tablets. This one would make him more alert. He had to overcome this.
3. Desperately trying to stay awake, Ben sipped his drink and peered around the dimly lit room. Behind Melissa, shadows danced on the walls, blinding sparks in the flickering light of the old chandeliers. His hypersomnia made it difficult to distinguish between reality and the creeping tendrils of sleep, but tonight, something felt different. There was an otherworldly presence that seemed to permeate the very air he breathed. For a moment, he thought Jonathan's medications were off. Was he lying to him?
Was Melissa who she said she was? What was wrong with the sixth player in the band?
As the minutes ticked by, Ben began to notice subtle changes in his surroundings. The once familiar patrons of the café now seemed distant, their features distorted by an unseen force.
A cold shiver ran down Ben's spine as he realized he was not alone in his perception. Across the room, an old man with wild, white hair and tattered clothing was muttering to himself, his eyes darting nervously. Their gazes met for a fleeting moment, and Ben saw a flicker of recognition in the man's eyes—he, too, was aware of the presence that haunted the café.
He shifted his look to Melissa. Something was off about her expression. He needed to snap out of it. He needed his A-game now. Now or never.
4. Just a normal question for many, but for Ben, in a desperate fight for his sanity, he knew what horrors could be behind that question. This was the unraveling point of the night. It was over. He had lost.
5. It started with a short blackout, as it always did. A short break in consciousness. A blissful, intoxicating feeling of cloudiness. His head needed support. With a serene smile, he mumbled, pleaded for a nice fluffy pillow. A plea directed at no one in particular: Melissa, the waiter, the demon in the band, anyone.
As expected, the date ended with Ben falling asleep.
Listen