beginning.

Acrid smoke hung languidly in the air and an etude played serenely from a gramophone. What was the piece playing? Something by Debussy? Liszt? Chopin? Bach? It wasn't important. What was more important, at least to the young man sitting in the corner of the cafe that evening, was time. It was half past eleven and the person he was supposed to meet nearly an hour ago, at her request no less, was nowhere to be seen. Blowing a strand of jet black hair away from his eye, he looked around, his face leaving his wrist-watch for the first time since sitting down at his table. 

The smoke began to dissipate. There were two waitresses. Twenty-somethings, making much small talk with the patrons. Their warm, yet empty smiles kind of bothered him. It was like the glow of neon lights, he thought - artificial. He quickly blinked away the idea. Intellectually, he knew he shouldn't judge at face value. However, he couldn't help it. This place was far removed from intellect. The patrons of the place puffed on their pipes, played cards and laughed raucously all around. 'Why do they have to be so loud?' came the all familiar question.

"They're just having fun." 

He looked beside him to where the small, mousy voice had come from. Had he actually spoken the question out loud? Stupid! It was a petite, brunette girl who had spoken up, wearing plain, unremarkable clothes and having even plainer, more unremarkable features. She had just sat down at the table next to him and almost looked statuesque, the shadows of the lingering smoke adding a marble-like characteristic to her already pale complexion. Arching a brow nonchalantly, he opened his mouth to say something, but then stopped himself, simply turning away. 

"What do you have against fun?" she piped up.

He looked back towards her and grimaced. He really didn't want to have this type of conversation today. "I wasn't judging them," he said as calmly as he could. "I honestly just can't figure out why people have to be this loud." He looked back at the noisy crowd. "It's an unnecessary expenditure of energy, as the same sentiments can very well be communicated with a regular speaking voice." He paused for a moment. "It also must be very exhausting."

"But if you've never been exhausted, then how can you say you've ever really done anything?" Her eyes were lively and warm, almost a complete contrast to the artificiality the waitresses gave off. Their glow, he thought, more than made up for the plainness of her other features. 

Still, he didn't see the need to continue with this diversion. "Crazy," he muttered, brushing off her remarks.

"Like a fox."

"A fox with dementia," he said as he moved to get up. Without another word he had left his table, moving past the crowd to the front entrance. It was obvious that the person he was supposed to meet wasn't going to show. This was definitely the last time he'd reply to an anonymous internet forum message. What was he thinking? Being stood up by someone he's never even met before, with no leads, the week before he had to turn in his research. What could be worse than this?

As he reached the exit and lifted a hand to turn the doorknob, he felt a dainty finger poke twice his shoulder. He looked back and saw, as expected, the tiny, statuesque girl. "Hi Len," she said simply. "I'm Jade, the one that contacted you about your research."

At that point he knew the answer to 'what could be worse than this?'