>Author note (as of: 03/Oct/2025) I do not have plans to update the rest of the chapters to match my current revised versions of DR, but tis the season, I did want to at least update this one to better match the setting to the season TPA takes place during. It's not much, but I hope this first chapter better gets you all in the right headspace for what I'm going for. If you would like, I could post the updated version on my patreon, so let me know, and I will make the effort to do so as all of DR is the first draft when posted here and on Wattpad.<

Today is calm, yet I can’t seem to shake the feeling that it shouldn’t be. That things are seconds away from shifting into something far worse.

It’s not uncommon for me to feel like this. I often have a feeling of panic lying under the surface when all around tells me I have nothing to worry about. So, I’ve learned to deal with it as I am now by keeping myself focused on what’s at hand, and reminding myself that nothing urgent needs to be done. That is besides the post I’m working on now, but, even that isn’t the end of the world if it stays unfinished today.

I’m at my usual spot in a small cafe I’ve come found of. It’s not too much of a popular place, so the noise stays low when you come at the right time. Too much noise has a tendency to cloud out my thoughts. A crowded space, too many bodies and voices accompanying and it’s as if my brain shuts down completely.

The aromas of baked goods and coffee linger in the air with the occasional breeze coming in when someone new comes through the front door.  The slight chill tells that fall has finally started to settle in. It has always been my favorite season, and when you live in the South, it’s always something that seems to come later each year.

Chatter beginning to pick up around me as many begin to pull in for the evening rush, I take it as my cue to wrap things up before too many do.

I grab my coffee, about to take another sip, before I realize that it’s already finished. I've been trying to cut back, but today's not going to be one of those days. Coffee is what helps me wind down, and I’m definitely wanting a bit of that for the evening.

I'm definitely going to need another.

I decide first to finish this post for my blog Walking every day with Christ. This week I'm writing about the struggles of overcoming anxiety, or more so, learning to deal with it with the help of scripture and prayer. It’s hard when you are in the middle of an attack, but I have found that with practice, it does help.

Once I’m done, I gather my things to head on my way. I’m at the front counter when I notice a gentleman with medium brown hair, straight with a bit of length to it, at a table several feet away to my left. I’ve been curious about him before and today with his eyes occasionally on me, I can’t help but watch him from the corner of my eye. It might just be a paranoid habit of mine, but his attention makes me nervous. Really, anyone’s usually does.

Why does he keep looking at me?

‘You’re thinking too much into it.’

Maybe, but what is his interest in me? Is there something on my clothes? Is my skirt bunched up? Did I do something wrong?

‘You probably did.’

‘Or he’s stalking you.’

You’re being paranoid.

‘Ignore him. You’re about to be gone anyway.’

Trying not to look back, I can’t help but keep feeling my eyes wanting to. Almost like a magnet keeps pulling at them, and it’s taking all my will power to keep them anywhere else. Thankfully my coffee is done, and I get to head out. Only I don’t noticing mystery guy’s location chang until he’s crossing my path and runs right into me. Coffee spills all over my combat-style boots. Thankfully, them being water-resistant, the coffee simply runs off the surface and doesn't seep into the boots themselves. Wet sicks is the last thing I want, so I try instead to be greatful for that instead of frustrated for the mess.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" Mystery guy’s voice is set in a deep tenor tone when speaking.

My eyes finally find where they’ve been wanting to be, only it’s a lot harder with him right next to me. He stands a few inches taller, and I meet his hazel-colored eyes for only a quick second when looking up. I’m not one to find it easy to talk to strangers, so it takes me a moment to respond.

"Ye-, yeah, I'm fine."

I feel his eyes glance over me and notice him smile. 

"What if I buy you a new one?"

Nervous, my comfort level drops worse than it even was before. He seems sweet, and it only makes me feel more conflicted in the moment. I’m tied between wanting to leave and taking the chance to get to know him a bit more. To not leave him as a stranger whose life I’m always at the edge of.

"What do you say?"

“Sure.”

I take a chance on him, yet I can't muscle through to say anything more at the moment.

We walk to the counter and I’m sure to keep a slight space between the two of us. Taking glances at him every so often as I try to figure him out.

Once our coffee is ordered, we wait. The silence though doesn’t last long as he takes no time to try and exchange information.

"My name's Matt, what's your's?"

"Madison."

My answers are short which leaves him to be the one that does most of the talking.

"Well, Madison, what do you do for a living? I'm going to guess a writer or blogger by how often I see you here with your laptop."

His statement confirms my assumption that he ran into me purposely.

If he has seen me here enough times to say that then it's less likely a coincidence and more tham likely that it was a purposeful move to spill my coffee.

I wouldn’t say I’m mad, but baffled as I don’t understand why he didn't try a different approach to introduce himself. Surely there are better ways.

Lightening up with the more words we exchange, my response comes easier.

"Well, you guessed right. I'm a blogger."

Handing him back his question, my curiosity about him grows.

"What do you do?"

Matt is hesitant with his response.

"I'm a photographer."

Our order is called, and I notice something of disappointment come across his face. Or is that frustration?

 "Well, I guess, I'll see you later?"

I’m about to pick up my coffee and leave before he grabs it instead.

"Wait! Here's my number. You should text me sometime."

He hands me my cup, and I scan over his handwriting before smiling up at him. I notice freckles on his face that I didn't pay attention to before. They're cute and make him seem younger in a way.

I respond one last time, before heading to the door.

"I'll do that."