Darren

A coffee shop in the city center: the hubbub, the clink of cups, the aroma of beans. Darren, a man of strict schedules, sat at his favorite table by the window, reviewing a report. A piece of paper on the table caught his eye. A phone number and a nickname. The message wasn't intended for him, but for an acquaintance occupying the table. Darren grinned and pocketed the note.

In the evening, in an empty office, he entered the number into the messenger.

— You left a note on my table at the coffee shop. Hello. I must admit, I like you, I want to get to know you better.

The answer came almost instantly, full of confusion.

• Oh... sorry, this note was meant for your friend...

Darren leaned back in his chair.

• Well, that's okay. I still want to meet you.

Darren wasn't used to half measures. His communication style with her became a mixture of irony, insight, and frankness. They exchanged messages for weeks. Darren became convinced: she wasn't a passing fancy, but a challenge.

“I don’t know how to get rid of the awkwardness, I suggest we pretend that we’ve known each other for a long time,” he wrote.

“That’s cheating,” came the reply.

— I may be anticipating awkwardness.

Rain lashed the asphalt, turning the city into a blur. Darren stood at the university entrance, waiting for her. When she emerged, wrapped in her coat, he didn't run. He waited for her to notice his tall figure in the crowd.

The relationship had degenerated into a dangerous game, where every word was a move, every glance a stake. Darren thought about her even in meetings. She irritated him with her ability to see right through him, yet attracted him with it.

“I dreamed about you,” came a message from Darren late at night.

“And what happened there?” she responded.

"That's not important. What matters is how my brain surrounds me with you even in my sleep."

"You're under me, stupid man!" came the insolent reply.

Darren, sitting in the dark apartment with a glass of whiskey, squinted.

“Hmm, but in the dream everything was the other way around,” he replied, feeling the desire to go beyond the confines of these virtual games becoming almost unbearable.