The first time I met Cassian I was sitting at the bar with my new friends, too tipsy to tell if he was actually looking at me or one of them. I was newly twenty-one years old, and was incredibly fresh to the bar scene around my new apartment. A spur-of-the-moment move across the country with my now ex-boyfriend had ended in heartbreak and an even more embarrassing move back home, to where I now rented a cold and dank one bedroom apartment in the basement of an old town house. It was lonely at times, and I quickly discovered that next door to my house there was a bar with some pretty cool people.
I met one of the bartenders on a random Tuesday night when I had stopped by alone for a drink. Sure, the counters were a tacky red color and my shoes stuck to the floor as I walked across the room to sit on a peeling bar stool, but it strangely felt like a comfort to be at the cheap little tavern that was housed next door to me. As I sat and ordered, the young bartender told me her name was Violet, and we immediately hit it off. She was one of the first friends I made after my move to the city where I didn't really know anyone. We connected and she invited me out to the bar a few nights later when she was off and would be with her friends.
This happened a few times. I met Violet's extensive group of friends and realized just how popular she was around our little city. For the most part, the girls welcomed me in and I became an honorary member of Violet's gang, meeting up with them every Thursday night for karaoke and cheap beer.
I noticed that if we ended up staying out too late - much, much later than I should have ever been out - a handsome man would appear outside the tavern doors, seeming to talk to some other customers who had stepped out front for a smoke. A lot of times he would pause out there and look into the bar, almost as if taking survey of the scene and then deciding whether or not it was worth the hassle to come inside and order a drink. A lot of times he didn't and ended up walking away without ever coming inside the tavern. But occasionally, he would venture inside, and order a gin and tonic.
As a few months went by with my new friends, I had started to see this man almost on a weekly occurrence, always captivated by him, never brave enough to ask anyone who he was. He was tall and had a charming face, surrounded by long dark, straight hair that fell past his shoulders. He would wear a black suit and coat, always appearing to look professional but dark and somewhat mysterious. He carried himself like someone of importance, someone who was someone, which was even more captivating to me seeing as I was a no-one. His age was impossible to decipher, even though I knew he had to be at least thirty, there was no way to really know the exact number. I was enamored with him, and I could swear that sometimes when he would stand out there in the dark, the city asleep around him as he gazed into the tacky tavern, that he was looking at me.
Violet and her friends and I were all at the tavern late one Thursday for a mildly hectic karaoke night. Violet, as it turns out, was a singer in a band when she wasn't bartending cheap beer, and owned the stage during karaoke night any chance she got. Was there nothing that she couldn't do? Her friends and I all stood around the tiny stage, cheering her on as she finished her song. The DJ (a close friend of Violet's) took a moment to rave about her in front of the small crowd in the bar, inciting a symphony of cheers from us, Violet's biggest supporters.
I let out one last "whoop" for Violet and turned to grab my drink. Suddenly, I felt eyes on me. I could feel the gaze on my back heavy and hot. I turned back around to face the front of the bar, drink still in hand, when I saw him. The dark mysterious man was back yet again, staring in through the windows and appearing to make eye contact with me. I choked a bit on my drink and quickly looked away, chills tingling up and down my arms and spine as I made an effort to appear calm. The image of magnets came to mind - like calling to like. I don't know why this man made me react this way, but I did know that nothing good could come from it, so I went back to celebrating Violet with my friends and doing my best to ignore the pair of dark eyes staring at me from the front window of the bar.
I was hoping that the man would act upon his usual routine of talking outside for a bit and then leave to disappear into the night mysteriously. Instead, when I glanced back over to the front door he was opening it, kicking snow off his boots as he entered the drunken crowd of college students. He immediately stood out among us, his older and mature face looking down on a sea of drunk young twenty-somethings. His sharp suit stood out in contrast against the bright pastel and neon colors the girls wore, the skin and cleavage that was shown as students danced and drank together in front of the stage, worshiping the less-than-good karaoke singers.
Panic tore me apart as he appeared to come closer and closer to me. I did my best to ignore him and join in on the conversation Violet's friends were having - a mindless yet heated debate about one of the girls in the group who was considering getting her bellybutton pierced.
Even though I wasn't looking at the man, I could still feel him coming closer, still feel that hot gaze on my back. I was terrified but enamored, simultaneously hoping that he would walk right past me and stop and introduce himself. He was a walking enigma, and had been haunting me for what felt like far too long.
I watched in awe and horror as the man approached our friend group and gave Violet a hug from behind, surprising her. A hug? They knew each other? Confusion and a tinge of jealousy fled through me as I watched Violet jump a bit and then swivel around, a huge grin coming over her face when she realized who was touching her.
"Cassian! You scared me!" Violet halfway shouted. She turned around the whole way and leaned into the hug, embracing him back. I slowly looked up at his face which was pointed towards me, staring at me with that same intensity from outside, even as he hugged my friend. The dark hair surrounding his face, his black suit - I had to look away. These reactions were not healthy, and for some reason I felt like he knew what he was doing to me.
