Darian

Darian and his friends, all motorcyclists, were leaning against the wall, smoking and drinking. A girl passed by, and Darian swore she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. She entered the café, and he remained standing on the other side of the street, looking at her. "Darian, dude!" Darian's friend Mason tried to call out to him, but noticed he was staring at a girl. "In love? " Mason said, jokingly. Mason had never seen Darian like this. "Shut the fuck up!" Darian said, still looking at her. He threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it, crossed the street, and entered the cafe. He knew he couldn't be rude, harsh, or cold to her like he was to everyone else. In fact, he didn't want to be that way with her. Darian couldn't stop looking at her. He was usually confident, but now—seeing her there—it evaporated from his body. "Give me a coffee," he asked the bartender, just to look at the girl a little longer. Then he took the coffee, paid, and returned to his seat with his friends.