Untitled

I watch the drips fall to the tile floor. What have I done?!

“A-are you okay? God I’m so sorry, are you alright?” my voice is panicked into a higher pitch. The man in front of me stands about four inches taller…six feet? Maybe.

His curly dark hair softens his sharpened face; sharp nose, cheeks and jaw. His peach lips pursed with shock for a moment, pausing. “Yes, sorry you startled me.” He speaks calmly through a faint Spanish accent. “I am so sorry.” The sympathy practically dripped off my face. I sounded pathetic.

After the shock sets in I notice a very strong pull in my chest, like there’s a wire between me and the man i just spilled my coffee all over. The pull afeels so strong that I have to actually try to stay still where I stand.

My eyes searched the airport lobby, desperate to find something. “Here,” I say, looking at the airport consignment shop. “I’ll buy you a new shirt!” My grip on his wrist tightens as we plunge to the shop entrance. The tall man opens his mouth to say something but I drag him off before he gets the chance to oppose my offer. I don’t remember grabbing his wrist…When did I grab his wrist?

The man shakes his hand free of mine. “It’s okay, really. I don’t-``″No.” I cut him off. “Lets just pick a new one.” I say.

I fold the receipt up and shove it in my pocket.

“Thank you, You really didn’t need to do that.” The tall man reaches his hand for me. On a closer look he appears to be younger than I thought. “My name is Rigel, and you?” He’s charming as he speaks. His hand smoothly extended towards me in welcome. “Pistol. Again, really sorry about your shirt, Rigel” I smile, shaking his hand firmly. “Are you named after the star?” the question falls out of my mouth. Rigel raises an eyebrow. I laugh it off. “Sorry,” I giggle in an attempt to cover myself. “Random question.”

He shrugs. “I have no clue, my parents aren’t really into astrology so I doubt it.” He smiles as he turns to change his shirt. I glance at the number seven on his shoulder inked in blue. I stand quietly waiting for him to finish changing before asking him another personal question.

“Well,” he laughs at my question. More of a scoff actually. “You might not even believe me.” I nod to the side with confusion.

“I don’t actually know anything about this tattoo. I have no idea how it got there, but it’s been there all my life.” I furrow my eyebrows. “Yeah, sure.” i say doubtedly. Rigel blinks with surprise. “I’m being serious, my parents have convinced themselves it’s a crazy birthmark.” I place my weight on my hip. My eyes shifted directly in line with his. “You’re lying.” I spit. His face wipes to shock. “What?” He blinks. “You’re lying.” I say again. “How would you even know that?” He stands, carrying his voice with him.

“Because I know what you are.” He halts. His bags drop as he turns to me. “I have no idea what you are talking about, goodbye.” Does he know that I know?

I hang my head, only for theatrics though, I know this guy is lying to me. “Oh god- I’m sorry!” I called after him. “I don’t know why I said that, I thought I recognized something about you.” He pauses again. Our eyes meet. “I thought you were a star-soul.” I say, but quiet enough for it to only matter if he knew what I meant; which he did.

“What? Sorry, what did you say?” His eyes are wide and he seems… nervous? Or upset? He swallows whatever spit was in his throat. “Well nothing, i dont know. I’m sorry.″ I wave him off. “No.” He says. “Tell me.” I sigh. “Well I don’t know, I just thought it was crazy that you are named Rigel and that you have an unknown tattoo of the number seven, which is also coincidental cause Rigel is the seventh brightest star visible to us… Do you follow? Like at all?” I explain swiftly. Rigel takes a step closer to me. “Pistol.” He says quietly. “Yes?” I look around confused. He draws closer to me..

“Are you a star-soul?”

I take a breath. “Yes.”