Stranger in the City

My evening routine consisted of climbing down the stairs at Andheri station, stepping into the west and walking for a few minutes till I reached a Starbucks outlet at Juhu Scheme.

I ordered a Caramel Frappuccino and took the cornermost seat. I flipped through the pages of a book I'd purchased.

I glanced over to look at a guy seated on the table near the door. He seemed to be in his early thirties and wore black t-shirt over blue denims. He stared at the laptop screen while pressing keys as if typing, occasionally running his hand across his prominent jawline as if in deep thought.

“Cappuccino for Roy” the counterboy screamed and he got up to fetch it. I caught a whiff of his cologne from the distance. He caught me off guard staring at him and I instantly looked away. Unfazed, he walked back to his table.
I saw him daily for a week.

The cafe was unusually crowded on Sunday. I failed to get a seat.

“We can share the table,”I heard a voice from behind.I turned around. It was him. He pulled the laptop away.

He stirred his coffee while I sipped the cold one. I felt awkward seated in front of a man whom I had never spoken to but knew exactly how much sugar he liked in his coffee and how black seemed to be his favourite colour.

"I'm not a local. I'm a writer on visit," he said. I see you're reading Austen."

“I prefer classics.”

“Or maybe you're just a romantic.”

“Maybe. I paused. Cappuccino is boring. You must try this.”

“Coffee is not really my thing. I just need it to write.”

“Are you always moving?”

“Yes, I hate settling."

“What brings you to the city?”

“In search for a muse,” he smiled.

A month had passed since he'd stopped visiting. Occasionally I'd smell the cappuccino on the counter mixed with a whiff of his cologne while his tall, athletic built hovered in the distance. His voice rang in my ears.

I left the cafe and walked back to the station. I noticed copies of a new book at a book stall nearby. ‘Stranger in the City,’ The gist spoke about a girl who roamed the old parts of the city, Austen in hand, seeking answers while on the verge of falling in love.

I spread it open.

'Dedicated to the girl who loves Caramel Frappuccino.'