Ehren wasn’t really a sharp dresser by any means, really he just tried to keep his wardrobe as ordinary as could be so that he could stay out of the limelight. He opted for a plaid button down shirt and a pair of jeans since that was about the nicest thing he owned next to a tux. So since he didn’t want to come off as a total tool, this was what he was wearing. He took one more look at the mirror, adjusting the curls on his head and walked out of his apartment to head toward Meg’s.
His heart began to race as he made his way up to the door. These kinds of things were always out of his comfort zone but Dani had basically told him she’d disown him if he didn’t man up and actually try to go on a date with this girl. She was right, he was making way too much out of this and as long as he remembered deep breaths he’d be ok. He brought his hand to knock on her front door and breathed out as he awaited her reply.
Was this a date?
Meg wasn’t really sure. People asked people to dinner on a casual basis and considering the fact that they still were getting to know each other she figured it was safe to assume it wasn’t so formal. Why would a nice guy like Ehren want to date her, anyway? There wasn’t much she had to offer anyone.
Her hair was down today. Curled at the ends but otherwise straight and styled. As always her makeup was done as much as it could be. She traded in her smock and painting clothes for a cropped tee shirt, high waisted cutoff denim jeans and a pair of high top sneakers. That was casual enough right? Or was she not trying hard enough? She hadn’t gone out really with anyone one on one in years.
All around her were projects in various stages of completion: Art projects, water colors, chalk, pencil drawings, paint. A large sheet covered the floor to keep it from getting ruined with castoff media. Her place wasn’t exactly designed to entertain but she could manage.
Anything important to her was kept stashed in the floorboards of her room, away from invadise guards or prying eyes.
The knock had her nervous but smiling. She made her way to the door and pulled it open, seeing Ehren standing there. “Hey! Come in,” she beckoned, slipping back into the small place to let him enter. “Sorry for the mess.”
He didn’t have many things that were sentimental to him because he knew that things weren’t really safe here. He peered around her apartment and noticed all the things around. Paintings, drawings, etc and they were all very well done. The most of what was in his house was old manuscripts from books he never got around to publishing. “No need to apologize, I’ve seen much worse.” The worse being the foster homes he stayed in when he was a young boy. So many children in such a small place made everything a hundred times messier.
“I like it actually, it’s..” He had to think of a word that might not be misconstrued as offensive. “...lived in.” He surmised since he looked like he still hadn’t moved all of his things in. Ehren had plenty of things but they didn’t seem important enough for him to bring here. “I have one piece of art in my apartment from when I first moved here.” Maybe he could use more, maybe he shouldn’t even think about having anything because it would inevitably be taken away.
“But this is impressive.” He almost muttered as he looked around the apartment some more. He hoped she thought this was a date, he thought his cavalier text when he was drunk was forward enough but what did he know about dating.
Her smile broadened and she nodded. Gently the door would close behind him once he was inside and she stepped around her projects expertly. “Thanks. I need something to pass the time otherwise I go crazy.” She would have offered a drink but they were heading out for dinner.
Lifting up a half completed piece of canvas Meg studied the area beneath it, considered it, and then set it down again.
Finally she found what she had been seeking, her handbag. The handle went around a shoulder. “You should take one of these for your place.” A hand would come up and wave around. “Please? Consider it a gift from me.”
She would let him pick since she didn’t know him well enough to know the aesthetic of his place.
He was about to refuse again until he remembered the dinosaur and knew that rejection was the worst course of action. “Thank you.” Was all he said as he walked toward the door of her apartment. They could take care of that after the date, or whatever it was. He followed her out and allowed her to close and lock the door behind them. He stuffed his hands into his pockets as they made their way out of the complex toward the market area.
He wished he could come up with one of those cute random questions she asked him but his mind went suddenly blank. “How long have you been painting?” Or drawing or whatever she might have done in her spare time. He obviously knew about the music, knew the songs even to this day, but he wanted to know more about the other aspects of her personality.
Ehren wasn’t very good at small talk so it often took him a long time to get people to finally latch onto him. So it seemed he just really didn’t know how to get to know new people.
A nod would come and Meg followed Ehren to the door, and then out into the remainder of the day. Behind her the door was sealed shut. Steps would take them lightly in the direction of the Marketplace and Meg kept her eyes open for any danger lurking about as they strode together. Absently she stayed close to him, more to protect him than herself.
Ears filling with inquiry Meg turned her attention on Ehren. Her smile brightened, “Oh, I’ve been doing stuff like that for a long time. I sort of took it for granted, you know? It’s not easy getting good supplies here.” Dani was a huge help but she still felt like she’d had to fight for every piece of chalk she had.
“Do you draw? What do you like to do? If you’re one of those secret yo-yo gurus I wouldn’t be surprised,” she teased. Where most people lacked in conversation Meg was fairly good at filling the void.
A chuckle commenced at the idea of being a yo-yo guru. “Yeah when I was like seven I guess.” He looked around too, you could never be too safe out here and he’d caused a ruckus the last time he’d walked through these streets at night. “I’ve actually always been really into writing. I have a few books I’ve finished but it’s not like I can get anything really published here.” Or that he ever tried before he came to the island. Ehren didn’t really like rejection which was why he wasn’t much of a risk-taker.
“I might have one or two poems saved somewhere from when I was a teenager.” Although that was probably more embarrassing than anything. “My mom died when I was in high school so they’re pretty dark but I think it helped me to get past her death in some regard.” Now there was something he didn’t tell many people. He didn’t like to drudge up painful memories most of the time but his doctor had told him to try and be more honest with people, so that’s what he was doing.
Hearing that he was a writer, her eyes lit up. She loved creative people. Making one thing transform into something else was the backbone of her life - music, painting, whatever it was her artwork gave life to things she could never in her wildest dreams find the words to express. “Writing? Really! That’s fantastic. What kind of stuff do you write about?”
Everyone had their particular brand of writing; just like anything else it had its own variations.
“Even if you can’t publish now I would save them. Maybe there’s a way to get them off of the island and put them into the world out there.” It would be worth the chance to see, at least. Who knew how many lives his work could impact for the better?
The part about his mom made her smile fade a bit. “Oh, I’m so sorry.” Both of her parents were still very much alive and she hated both of them. To lose one, though, would be a terrible relief. “I’d still like to read them, dark or not. I bet they’re deep.”
He couldn’t actually tell her what he wrote about, only a few people knew about how ability and while he liked her, he didn’t know where her allegiance laid. For all he knew, she could be a government spy, though he highly doubted it. “Mostly fictional dramas.” Which wasn’t totally inaccurate because they were dramatic but there was nothing fictional that happened in any of these stories, and some hadn’t even happened yet. “I don’t know where it comes from but it’s just kind of where my mind takes me.”
When she offered to read them a tinge of red came to his cheeks and he chuckled a little. “Well, yeah maybe someday I’ll let you read them, I don’t want to totally embarrass myself like that yet.” He offered as a rebuttal though she did seem like the type who judge him. They walked up the marketplace and he smiled at the hostess as he put two fingers up in the air.
He hadn’t actually taken anyone on a date here yet, though he’d been a few times with some friends. His dates usually ended up meeting up with him at Josie’s and then leaving when he got too drunk or started having anxiety. This was definitely a nice change of pace.
“Really? Wow. I bet they’re fantastic.” She hadn’t read them so optimism would do in the interim. Whatever the conclusion to that, as far as him letting her review his work, was up to him entirely. There would be no pushing either way. Meg knew what it was like to want to keep your work to yourself for fear or judgement.
A nod would come at the prospect of reading the poems. She felt honored even by the maybe. “I totally understand.”
When they reached the Italian place Meg let Ehren steer them through the ritual of being seated. She settled into the seat across from him, bag dropped lightly at her feet.
“So, have you eaten here before?” She inquired, conversationally once the order for drinks had been given to the waitress. Light eyes would watch over the edge of the menu, playful and curious, before they would drop to browse the selections.
He looked over the menu as she asked if he’d been there before. “Yes, with some friends once or twice.” He then looked up from the menu and brought it down so that he wasn’t hunched over it. “Have you? I would have assumed you’ve tried every place in the marketplace since you worked here.” He recalled frequenting a few places back in Spokane that were close to his auto body shop.
“Do you like reading?” He asked out loud since it seemed like that was one thing that he was really passionate about. There was something about being swept up in the trials and tribulations of fictional characters that allowed him to live in a world without fear.
The prices were a bit steeper than most places but he didn’t mind if it meant that he got to spend some time with Meg.
Nodding, Meg smiled. “Yeah, the Stromboli here is actually really good.” His assumption was right, she was a foodie at heart. While she didn’t look like she could put away a bit of food, she could eat as much as anyone because of her metabolism increasing from her ability.
The question posed earned an eyebrow lift. “I love reading! Mostly fantasy. You know, getting lost in epic adventures in far away lands. I used to wish I was an elf. Is that silly?” A soft, musical laugh escaped her lips. The menu was set down and she smiled warmly at Ehren. “I know you like to read,” she teased, lips twisting into a playful smirk. “I love to know that people seek knowledge. It’s a good trait. Especially in men. Sometimes when I daydream I imagine just spending the day with someone, reading books, or maybe to each other aloud. You know?” That was probably silly, too. Her cheeks flushed a bit.
Menu was taken back up to hide the pink in her cheeks.
He smiled at her as she ducked her head beneath the menu again. “You’re not silly for wanting to be an elf, I always thought if I was a little smaller I could definitely be a dwarf.”
His beard did tend to grow very fast and he could easily swing something as small as an axe if it was ever necessary. His arm strength came from hours and hours of working on machines all day.
The idea of sitting around and reading all day was lovely, if he didn’t feel so cooped up on this island he’d be content to do that with most of his time. “That sounds really nice actually. I’m a big fantasy nerd myself and I’ve yet to finish all the game of thrones books.” Ok so maybe now he was acting a bit geeky but for some reason, he didn’t seem to care too much around her.
When the waitress came back around he handed her his menu with a smile. “I heard your Stromboli is really good here so I will have that.”
He said to her, always hoping he’d be forgetful to the people he met.
“A dwarf?” She inquired, nodding, “I could see that.” Her eyes flickered over him in a studious manner, taking in all of the details. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue - she wondered if he even knew that no pencil or blend of colors would ever come close to recreating that hue. “With a longer beard, probably.” While she wasn’t telling anyone what to do with their face she wasn’t the biggest fan of huge beards. A little bit was good, though.
Her expression evened out when he mentioned the Game of Thrones series. Nodding, the end of her nose wrinkled with delight, “Those are good. I could spend hours getting lost there. Good to know there’s a fellow nerd on the island.” She figured that more people probably liked the series too but then again she didn’t chat about personal things with just anyone.
The menu was handed over. “Me too, please,” she offered, though her eyes didn’t leave Ehren.
Suddenly he remembered that he hadn’t even mentioned how good she looked, which she obviously did. While he knew he wanted to, he wasn’t sure how to say it without coming off as some sort of douchebag. “Um, you look really nice by the way.” He said, trying to make sure he didn’t put an emphasis on really because he didn’t want to imply that she did look good normally.
He let his hand go over the trimmed beard he kept on his face and scratched a bit at his chin. For some reason it was always a nice feeling to do that and he found he’d do it sometimes without even knowing it. “I never really wanted to go too big with my beard but I feel like a kid without it.” He decided, since he really did look a lot younger without all the scruff.
Meg was not a woman who fished for compliments. She dressed how she wanted to - the island’s selection of clothing permitting - and couldn’t give a rats backside what anyone else thought about how she dressed herself, the color of her hair, the ink covering her arms. But when he complimented her she couldn’t help but feel honored. “Thank you,” she grinned, a hand coming up to flip a section of hair playfully over a shoulder as if showing off. “You look handsome, by the way.” And he did.
“That shirt goes well with your eyes. They’re like a kaleidoscope, I’ve never seen a color like that. Is it weird that I’ve been trying to figure out exactly what hue I could create with my watercolors to try to match it?” She hoped that hadn’t sounded too odd or crazy. Her life was a large painting, an expansive sheet of music.
A bit of mischief gleamed in her eyes. Meg set her elbow on the table and leaned forward, hand extended out. She brushed her fingertips over his beard at the line of his jaw and nodded in approval, “Nope, that’s a good length. Not too prickly. Points for you.”
The touch sent a spark through him and he could feel his cheeks getting redder by the minute. He must look like a tomato at this point, he wasn’t used to someone treating him with such softness and kindness. Most of the time, even the people who were what he might call friends, he was treated like a person who should just ignore his own diagnosis.
He remembered then, why things never seemed to go well on dates. His anxiety. He took a sip of his water, leaving the alcohol for now since he didn’t want to drink too much before he ate, and decided he needed to put it out in the open. “Listen, I have to tell you something and I understand if it’s too much for you.” He began, folding his hands on the table as he kept his gaze with her.
“I’ve been diagnosed with social anxiety and panic disorder. I have panic attacks and sometimes I hole myself up in my apartment because I’m scared.” And sometimes he slipped off into visions during his panic attacks, but he couldn’t tell her that, not yet anyway. “I..” he grabbed his water and gulped down some of it before taking another deep breath. “...like you and if anything comes of this I just thought you should know.” His heart was going really fast now and if he wasn’t careful, he could slip into a vision right here in this restaurant.
As that color crept into his cheeks Meg smiled, endeared. She pulled away and leaned back, settling again in her seat. So far she was impressed with his attitude, the way he presented himself. Most guys would’ve been trying to stuff alcohol down her throat so they could get frisky later, and so a nice guy was one to appreciate.
When he began to speak, she sat back to listen, eyebrows arching. A few scenarios ran through her mind - was he a serial killer? Nah, that was too obvious. Maybe he had been dared to ask her to dinner? Or what if he just didn’t like her? Meg made herself smile as she waited for him to talk.
Expression softened as his admission came to light. She didn’t know much about social anxiety. Across the table she reached, fingers brushing against his. “I like you too, Ehren, and I don’t know much about social anxiety, but if you ever need someone during that time - if you do at all - you can always call me.” What she would do for him during that period of time she wasn’t sure, but at least he wouldn’t be alone.
Empty promises, they usually were in his experience but he wanted to believe she would be, even if it turned out that she wasn’t. It still felt nice to put his hand on top of hers and quietly accept that she really did mean well. “Thank you. I know that’s a really weird thing to bring up on a first date but I just thought I should put it out there in the open.”
Man he must have really been bumming her out. First the thing about his mom, then his mental diagnosis. He hadn’t even told her that he refused medication but he supposed that one could come out later. “Sorry, I’m not the best at this kind of thing.” He admitted.
“No, I appreciate your honesty.” He didn’t wear a badge. She didn’t know if he was associated with the government, pretending to be a resident, or maybe he was like them but
“it’s refreshing.” Meg made herself smile. “You probably know I’m one of them,” she stressed, free hand plucking up the ID card and holding it up. Biting her lip, Meg nodded. “I can do stuff with dirt and sand. Like move it around. It’s not social anxiety but I didn’t ask for it.”
He wasn’t bumming her out. It was oddly refreshing to be so open with someone. She hoped without judgement. “I mean, you said you liked me and you shared. Since you don’t have an ID I’m guessing you’re not like us. I hope that’s not a big deal.” He had to know beforehand.
More than anything he wished he could tell her, wished he could let her know that they were alike, but he couldn’t let them have that control over him, not like everyone else. “Yeah no, just a regular anxious mess of a person, I don’t think I could really handle having a…” he thought about the right word. Power sounded too much like a comic book. “...an ability.” He concluded. He hoped it came off as convincing because sometimes he had some serious tells.
“I don’t mind, a lot of my friends are the same. My friend Dani can manipulate plants, I met a guy the other day who was telepathic. I’ve pretty much seen it all.” Not to mention the various other abilities he saw in the context of the faction. As their food came out he looked down at it and smiled. It smelled and looked really good, reminding him of a little Italian place he’d frequented in Spokane.
“Oh,” she replied. Her smile fell a little. “Yeah, you know, being regular is really cool.” Meg settled into her chair. He didn’t have an ability, he wouldn’t know what it’s like to be oppressed. To be objectified. But then she couldn’t hold that against him. He’d been nice to her so far.
At the mention of his friend’s she felt a bit more at ease. “I’m friends with Dani, too. She’s wonderful.” Meg didn’t want to know a telepath. But that was probably unavoidable.
She was glad to have the food come. Her utensils were taken up, napkin went into her lap.
His regret was deeper when he watched her response. She obviously felt a lack of a connection in that regard to him because for her, it seemed like Ehren had it good. “Dani’s kind of like my sister, we’re not really related but that doesn’t stop her from punching me anytime I say something she doesn’t like.” He said with a warm smile, trying to take the focus off the fact that he wasn’t one of them, on paper anyhow.
He began to eat the Stromboli, taking bites into his mouth before chasing it down with some water. “When did you first realize you had an ability?” Ehren knew for himself, he was eight years old.
“That’s how Dani is,” she replied, nodding. The woman’s presence and movement into the arts was amazing. She had a lot of admiration for Daniela. Strong women always had her support.
Her eyes dropped to her plate. Fork and knife would chop the Stromboli up. “Oh, after a show a few years ago. This guy tried to stiff us out of some cash.”
His eyebrows knit together as he listened to her. He knew that there must have been more to that story but he didn’t want to pry, not when they were so newly acquainted. “I’m sorry, that’s terrible.” He said to her and stuffed another forkful of food into his mouth.
“Listen I didn’t mean to imply that you’re not regular, I’m not any better than anyone else.” Worse, perhaps but not better.
Right now she wasn’t feeling at the top of her game. The guy she was into didn’t really impress her on the ability game. “I think I want to take this to go.”
Her arms folded across her chest. This was no longer something she wanted to do. They had friends in common, sure, but they didn’t have anything in common on the forefront and she didn’t know if she could trust him. That and his earlier comments about abilities.
She had given everything she had to be considerate of his plight. And he couldn’t handle having abilities.
And there it was. He’d screwed It up, like he always did and this time it wasn’t something he could easily amend. It really bothered her, the idea that he was without abilities and that hurt him to his core because he really could identify with her, with her and all the others oppressed by the government.
Even though he knew it was a dumb question, he had to ask. “I’m sorry, did I..” a breath, “...did I offend you in some way?” He asked her, watching as she shut herself off from him. Was this really how she was? Unable to be with someone who wasn’t like her? It didn’t seem fair but it seemed like his judgement was fairly accurate.
It didn’t bother her that he was without abilities it was the way he’d said it, with that sense of judgement. She hadn’t asked for this. She hadn’t asked to be able to rip the island into pieces and yet she could. People were people but when they held themselves above others for small reasons she couldn’t handle that.
“You aren’t like me,” she snapped. “Why would you be? You don’t know what it’s like to have to create something at will. To be ashamed of that. To be ripped out of everything you’ve ever known or wanted.” She was outspoken. She would never apologize for that.
Her eyes lowered. Arms would cross and Megan pushed back in her chair. “I’m going home.” The bag she brought was forgotten. All she cared about was getting out of there. “Maybe you should bring someone else here.”
And that was when she turned and began to head out.
He waited a moment after she walked away before he muttered “Fuck” and pounded his wrist lightly against the table so as not to cause a scene. This feeling, at least, was familiar. Rejection was all he was capable of receiving. He wished he could have had a vision to see this coming so he could have avoided it. He was so stupid sometimes.
Paying his check he stood up and noticed both her purse and her food were left there. He knew that he was probably the last person she wanted to see but he couldn’t just leave it there, or worse, hold onto it. He sighed and grabbed the bags making his way back to the apartment complex.
All the while his thoughts wandered. What if she got harassed by a guard on the way home, what if she used her power to really hurt him. The idea scared him but he knew that she was just upset because she misunderstood how he felt about all of this.
He also rehearsed what he was going to say in his head, careful with the words he chose so as not to piss her off more. When he got to the complex, he followed the familiar path to her apartment door. Two wraps on the door and he felt his heartbeat speed up again. The last thing he wanted was for her to start yelling at him again.