I am trying to write a story recently so if I make any mistake in the story please forgive me.

The characters in this have nothing to do with real life. If someone does not like the book, you can leave without spreading hate. ______________________________________

The café buzzed with the familiar morning routine—coffee machines humming, the soft clatter of cups, and the quiet murmur of customers starting their day. Sunlight filtered through the large glass windows, casting a warm glow over the wooden interior.

Ishan moved behind the counter with practiced ease, pouring a fresh cup of coffee while balancing a plate of croissants in his other hand. He had worked here for nearly four years, ever since he had arrived in this town with nothing but a small suitcase and a vague sense of who he was.

“Order for table two,” he called out, setting the tray down.

A woman in her thirties smiled at him. “Thanks, Ishan. You always get my coffee just right.”

He returned the smile. “Glad to hear it, Priya.”

At that moment, Abhishek strode in from the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. “I swear, if I have to listen to another customer complain about their coffee not being hot enough, I might lose my mind.”

Ishan chuckled. “You work in a café, Abhi. Complaining about coffee complaints is like complaining about rain being wet.”

Abhishek shot him a look. “That is a terrible analogy.”

Before Ishan could respond, the café door swung open, and a gust of cool morning air followed a new customer inside. An elderly couple shuffled in, the man leaning slightly on a cane, while his wife clutched her purse tightly.

Ishan immediately recognized them—Mr. and Mrs. Rao, longtime regulars.

“Good morning,” he greeted warmly. “The usual?”

Mrs. Rao beamed. “Yes, dear. And an extra sugar packet, please. My husband’s trying to cut back, but he’s miserable without it.”

Mr. Rao grumbled but said nothing as he took his seat by the window.

Ishan quickly prepared their drinks and carried them over, setting them gently on the table. “Here you go. Let me know if you need anything else.”

As he turned to leave, Mrs. Rao’s gaze lingered on him longer than usual. There was something in her expression—curiosity, maybe even confusion.

“You remind me of someone,” she murmured, her voice thoughtful. “But I can’t place who.”

Ishan felt an odd prickle of unease crawl up his spine. He forced a small laugh. “I must have one of those faces.”

Mrs. Rao didn’t respond right away. Instead, she continued studying him with an intensity that made his skin itch. Finally, she smiled and patted his hand. “Yes, maybe that’s it.”

Ishan nodded politely and walked away, but the discomfort stayed with him.

Abhishek, who had been watching the exchange from behind the counter, smirked. “What was that about?”

“She thinks she’s seen me before,” Ishan said lightly, though something about the interaction unsettled him.

Abhishek rolled his eyes. “Well, you do have a ridiculously pretty face. Maybe you’ve got a long-lost twin somewhere.”

Ishan chuckled. “Yeah, right.”

But as he returned to his work, a nagging thought whispered at the back of his mind.

What if she really had seen him before?

And what if he just didn’t remember?

----

The afternoon sun had softened to a golden hue, casting long shadows across the quiet street outside the café. Inside, the morning rush had died down, leaving only a few lingering customers sipping their coffee or working on their laptops. The soft hum of conversation mixed with the distant sound of traffic outside, creating a peaceful lull that Ishan had always found comforting.

Abhishek leaned against the counter, flipping through his notebook. “So, what’s the plan after work? Another exciting evening of reading in your tiny apartment?”

Ishan smirked as he wiped down the espresso machine. “It’s called a peaceful life, Abhi. You should try it sometime.”

Abhishek snorted. “Nah, I prefer chaos. Keeps life interesting.”

Before Ishan could respond, the café door swung open with a sharp jingle. A man walked in—tall, well-dressed, with a strong presence that seemed to command attention without trying. His sharp gaze swept over the café, pausing when it landed on Ishan.

For a moment, Ishan felt as if he were being pinned under that stare, a strange sense of familiarity tugging at the back of his mind. But he was sure he had never seen this man before.

The stranger strode up to the counter, his expression unreadable. “I’ll have a black coffee. No sugar.” His voice was smooth, controlled.

Ishan nodded, moving quickly to prepare the order. As he poured the coffee, he felt the man’s eyes on him, watching him too closely.

“Do I know you?” the stranger asked suddenly.

Ishan’s hand hesitated slightly before he placed the cup on the counter. “I don’t think so.”

The man studied him for a long moment, then gave a small, almost knowing smile. “Maybe I’m mistaken.”

Something about the way he said it made Ishan’s stomach twist. He wanted to ask who the man thought he was, but before he could, the stranger had already turned away, settling into a corner booth.

Abhishek leaned in as soon as the man was out of earshot. “That was weird.”

Ishan exhaled slowly. “Yeah.”

Abhishek nudged him. “You sure you don’t know him? He was staring at you like he expected you to recognize him.”

Ishan shook his head. “I have no idea who he is.”

But as he glanced toward the stranger again, he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the man knew something he didn’t.

And that terrified him.

---

The café had quieted even more by the time the mysterious man finished his coffee and left. Ishan had tried to ignore him, focusing on the remaining customers, but the feeling of being watched lingered long after the man was gone.

Abhishek stretched his arms and groaned. “Alright, my shift’s done. You need a ride home?”

Ishan shook his head. “Nah, I’ll walk. It’s not far.”

Abhishek eyed him suspiciously. “You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Ishan forced a small laugh. “I’m fine, Abhi. Just tired.”

His best friend didn’t seem convinced, but he let it go. “Alright. Call me if anything weird happens.”

Ishan nodded and watched as Abhishek grabbed his bag and left. The café had emptied out, and the last few minutes of his shift dragged on in silence. He wiped down the tables one last time before grabbing his own bag and stepping outside.

The air was crisp, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink as the sun dipped below the horizon. The streets were quiet, just the occasional car passing by. Ishan pulled his jacket tighter around himself as he started walking toward his apartment.

Halfway home, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

He pulled it out, expecting a message from Abhishek. But when he looked at the screen, his blood ran cold.

Unknown Number: “Stop looking for answers. It won’t end well for you.”

Ishan’s breath caught in his throat. His fingers tightened around the phone as a chill ran down his spine.

Looking for answers? He hadn’t even started looking.

Yet, someone thought he had.

His mind flashed back to the stranger in the café, the way he had looked at him, the knowing smile. Was this connected? Was someone watching him?

His eyes darted around the empty street. Nothing seemed out of place, but suddenly, the quiet didn’t feel comforting anymore. It felt dangerous.

Swallowing hard, he forced himself to keep walking, his heart pounding with each step.

When he finally reached his apartment, he locked the door behind him and leaned against it, exhaling shakily.

His world had always been simple, ordinary. But tonight, for the first time, he felt like a stranger in his own life.

And he had a terrible feeling that it was only the beginning.

Should I continue the book or leave it like this

To be continued.....