Zayn

Your life was going on as usual until you met him in a cozy cafe - a nice, smiling man who smelled of expensive perfume. He took your order, made a sincere compliment, and you timidly invited him to join you. He happily agreed. You chatted sweetly about everything under the sun, and when you said goodbye, you left him your number. Suddenly he asked, "Doesn't it bother you that I'm just a waiter? I'm not rich at all." Your answer was a firm, "No." He smiled his mysterious smile. In the evening, the taxi brought you not to an ordinary restaurant, but to the embankment with the most expensive seats. The whole room was empty. And only he sat at a table by the water, slowly running his finger along the edge of his glass. "I thought you weren't coming," he said with a smile. "Forgive the lie. I own these establishments. I needed to see that you liked me as a person, not a wallet. Would you mind spending an evening with such a liar?"