🎧 We can be heroes – David Bowie
Daniel sprinted down the stairs of Royal Riverside College, narrowly avoiding a faceplant because of an untied shoelace.
Backpack slung over his shoulder and earphones plugged in, he left the building behind, heading for the pedestrian path along the Thames. Skilfully weaving through the crowd of people moving in all directions, he narrowly avoided a group of reckless young skateboarders before finally reaching Kaffeine, the café where he had been working part-time for several months.
Swinging open the weighty glass door of the café, he was enveloped by the rich scent of brewing coffee and freshly baked pastries, a harmonious duet that wafted through the air. The soft hum of conversation from the various tables provided a comforting background melody.
A fuchsia neon sign at the entrance flashed a familiar Bowie lyric: "We can be heroes. Just for one day." Yet, a particular table by the window always managed to draw his attention away.
And there he was. The redhead. Earphones in, marker in hand, lost in his world.
Daniel’s heart skipped a beat.
With a tight grip on his backpack straps, Daniel stood there, utterly spellbound. From the very first glance, he was captivated by the mysterious stranger before him. The vivid red hair, those piercing blue eyes, and a charming trail of freckles scattered across pale skin just above the nose — there was a quiet charm that was truly captivating.
"Danièl," called out Santiago, his Argentine colleague, his voice rich with a lilting accent that always seemed to place the emphasis on the wrong vowel. "What are you waiting for? Go and talk to him!"
Santiago's voice was teasing yet urgent. Daniel felt his heart pound, not sure if he should approach the captivating stranger. The moment was tense, feeling like both a challenge and an invitation.
Nervously, Daniel moved behind the counter, looking down to avoid the redhead's gaze. "No, I can't."
"You're muy tonto, you know!" Santiago teased.
Daniel let out a heavy sigh, his arms falling to his sides. He knew that if he wanted to get closer to the boy, he'd have to make the first move. But he was scared. Scared of what they might talk about, scared of the day when the boy might stop coming to the café.
He didn't even know his real name. Every time he asked, the boy would jokingly tell him something different.
Throughout his shift, while preparing coffee, Daniel would often steal glances at the redhead. His attention remained fixed until the boy decided to leave.
Before exiting, the redhead briefly locked eyes with Daniel and flashed a subtle smile, then merged with the bustling crowd outside.
Once he'd left, Daniel, heart racing, quickly moved to the vacated table. He picked up the discarded paper cup, always left behind, and smiled at the intricate doodle on it: a tangle of stylised musical instruments, all connected by a keyboard that coiled around them like a musical staff.
Daniel was fairly certain that such talent revealed a sensitive soul, capable of seeing beyond mere appearances. This was starkly different from his schoolmates, whose priorities seemed limited to partying and having sex. Daniel found them dull and uninspiring. But this mysterious boy, he seemed different.
The lyrics from David Bowie's song echoed in his mind: once more, he hadn't managed to be a hero.
At the end of his shift, just before dinnertime, Daniel made his way to the residential area where Elle, his only true friend since primary school, lived. He passed a row of identical red-brick houses, each with black doors and bow windows, and entered the courtyard of the only house with a white door.
Elle's mother welcomed him, a phone wedged between her cheek and shoulder and a bundle of papers crammed under her arm. With a quick nod from her, Daniel felt at home and was free to head upstairs.
He flung himself onto Elle's mattress, face down, arms stretched into the void, and clutched the decorated paper cup he'd brought with him. He wanted to add it to his collection.
"Let me guess," Elle began, trying on a mini black dress in front of the mirror. "The mysterious boy came in today, and you couldn't muster up the courage to speak to him, right?"
Daniel responded with a muffled groan.
"You can't carry on like this," she chided. "Next time you see him, why not try striking up a conversation?"
"What could I possibly ask him without sounding like a complete prat?"
"You could compliment the drawings he leaves around."
"I don't know..." Daniel hesitated, setting the cup on the bedside table, his hand sweeping across his forehead. "What if he finds it annoying?"
"Dan, you've got to take chances in life. Stop overthinking and take some action! Or someone else might swoop in and nab him."
Elle had a point, but Daniel's deep-rooted insecurities always seemed to create barriers. He wasn't even sure if the captivating redhead swung his way. Moreover, while Daniel wasn't necessarily plain, he also wasn't the epitome of classical beauty. With his unremarkable looks and lean frame, he often doubted he'd catch anyone's eye.
Once Elle was ready, fully dressed and all dolled up, the two took a Uber to go to a party. Daniel would've preferred to skip it, but Elle was adamant about attending Joshua Edward Taylor's eighteenth birthday bash.
Josh, the golden boy of Royal Riverside and, unfortunately, a constant thorn in Daniel's side for the last two years.
Every single day, Josh found a new reason to mock Daniel — whether it was his sexuality, the quirky T-shirts he wore, the music he vibed to, the comics he devoured, or even his distinct sneeze. It was hard to believe they were once friends.
The sudden change in Josh's attitude baffled Daniel. He fondly remembered their laid-back afternoons, engrossed in video games and indulging in fried chicken, back in the final days of secondary school.
Daniel once believed they were forging a genuine bond, but the ties unravelled unexpectedly. Josh pulled away, renouncing their once-close connection. Even more hurtfully, he egged on his new mates to mock Daniel at every turn.
Given this history, it was puzzling that Josh had invited Daniel to his party alongside the whole school. Maybe Josh assumed Daniel would never dare to show up.
Reluctantly, Daniel found himself entering the grand lobby of one of the tallest and most distinct skyscrapers in the Southwark district. Even from the outside, Daniel was fascinated by the arched shape of the glass building — nicknamed The Boomerang — which was recognisable even from miles away. He was certain that the upper floors would offer a splendid view of the Thames, dividing the city in two.
But as he and Elle entered the Taylors' flat on the seventeenth floor, it wasn't the sweeping cityscape that struck him. Instead, it was the din of chattering guests and thundering music. He pondered how anyone could strike up a conversation amidst such chaos.
Surveying the scene, Daniel noted that most guests were either dancing or drowning in their drinks. Tucked away near the kitchen, some couples were lost in each other, snogging without a care.
Though he wanted to admonish Elle for bringing him to such a place unbidden, he remembered the many times she'd been his protector at school, especially against Joshua. Elle might be petite, but she was undeniably fierce, always at the ready to defend and stand her ground.
While Elle lost herself to the rhythm in the room's heart, Daniel declined her invitation to dance with a shake of his head. He'd never felt the urge to dance and didn’t want tonight to be his debut.
Signalling to Elle that he needed a breather, he threaded his way past the throng, eyes catching a staircase beckoning him upwards.
With every step he took on the polished wooden stairs, the blaring music diminished, replaced by a distant murmur. The cooler air was a relief, though he knew he shouldn’t be wandering uninvited. But the throbbing in his head drove him forward. Reaching a door, he hesitated, praying he wouldn’t find anyone shagging behind it.
To his relief, the room was vacant.
It seemed too sparse to be Josh's — just a bed, a bedside table, and a desk. The balcony door stood ajar, tempting him with the promise of fresh air. As Daniel stepped onto it, the cool breeze caressed him, offering a brief escape.
The familiar scent of marijuana suddenly clouded Daniel's thoughts.
Spinning around, he nearly bumped into a guy leaning casually against the glass balustrade.
Dressed in a shadowy hoodie and ripped jeans, the guy was deeply engrossed in smoking a joint. The scant evening light highlighted the fiery hue of his hair.
A sudden lurch in Daniel's stomach mirrored the feeling of plummeting on a rollercoaster. It was surreal — the intriguing redhead from Kaffeine was right there, within arm's reach.
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