BIRDIE looks up at the strange, foreign man who had ordered himself the same cup of tea she drinks and two cookies for him and her. She recognises those irises for some reason, but she can't tell how. He looks at her with those emerald green eyes, smiling slightly and it catches her off-guard. "Are you staring at me?" He asks, running his hand through his dirty blonde hair. "I'm afraid I am..." He leans closer, bending a little down due to their height differences, despite her wearing heels that are at least two inches. "Swooned,"

"Oi," A voice catches their attention. Birdie and the foreign man look at the counter, where Platypiss, real name is Peregrine Beck and is often called Perrie, is standing in front of the cashier, who is subtly grinning behind his fingers just seeing the show-down between Birdie. "It's strictly no flirting in this café, kid," Perrie crosses her arms, clenching her jaw.

"I—"

"It's either you take that shitty high heels of yours out to the pub or you get yourself a fuckin' drink and a table," Perrie disregards the man's presence and looks at Birdie, who rolls her eyes. "Yeah, this café, my rules. No flirting at the counter, thank you very much," She punches in the order quite violently and she looks between them. "Who's going to pay? I'm not running out of business over some stupid, shitty chemistry," Perrie clears her throat.

Birdie and the man fumble for their payment. Both producing credit cards and they look the same only, the numbers are different. Perrie sighs. "No cards here,"

"What?" The man exclaims.

"It's just her intimidation," Birdie rolls her eyes and exhales. "Excuse me, Madame Baker, will you kindly accept my card as a way of payment?" She bats her eyelashes, seeing Perrie tilt her head for Birdie to finish her sentence to which, she sighs. "Please?"

"Why, of course!" Perrie's attitude changes, accepting the man's card.

"Hey—!"

"Now, go settle yourself upstairs and we'll send you your things," Perrie hands them a wooden number.

Birdie picks it up before the man can and she ascends the stairs that have an upstairs area where people, who often need to go away from the hectic scenery below, want to wind down. She goes to her favourite spot by the windows, where she can see the lake that is not far from the café. It's the best view she's ever seen, even from when she first stepped into this place, this was their spot. Birdie sat here, studying for her business class and as time had passed, she saw that the night time had come and forgotten her friends had left. She looked outside the window, the lake reflected the illuminating light.

"May I sit?" The foreign man asks, attracting Birdie's attention.

Birdie looks at him and shrugs, knowing that her exhaustion is overwhelming her irritation from before. "What have I got to lose? I'm really fucking exhausted from day's work and... I can't even catch myself a break," Birdie groans, sinking into her seat and her legs spread. Their knees touch upon the man taking his seat and Birdie jolts up into her sitting position that is proper. "S-Sorry... that was improper of me,"

The man chuckles, rubbing his fingers through his patchy beard. "What's got you really exhausted, Miss...?"

"Love," She says.

"Trouble in love-town?" He coyly smiles.

"No!" She kicks his shin yet he laughs upon the pain. "That's just my last name!" Birdie exhales, crossing her arms. A click of a mind and she remembers her appearance. 'Fuck,' She thinks while pulling out her bag and a compact mirror. She brings out a makeup remover and removes all the foundation and contour, blush and eyeshadow, and even the smearing of the eyeliners off of her face.

"Wow..." The man elbows the table, looking at her in fascination while Birdie raises an eyebrow. "Never saw a woman take their makeup off during our date,"

"I—!"

"Two chamomiles and two cookies," The cashier appears by their table, placing down the steaming mugs and a plate of cookies onto the table. He gets thanked by Birdie before disappearing off downstairs.

Birdie places her hands onto the sides of the mugs, feeling her cold hands warm up. "I've been cooped up in my office for so long..." She sighs, feeling the chamomile's mug warm her up and her body just from a sip. "I didn't realise I forgot to bring a coat. It's not even nearing winter,"

"Well," He pulls out his phone, scrolling through something. "Predicted weather in an hour is to—" Before can finish, tiny droplets begin to drop onto the windows beside Birdie and by the flash of their eyes, rain begins to pour heavily. "Rain..." He looks at Birdie, who looks unimpressed, giving off an expression that he had caused the weather. "S-Sorry..." He clears his throat and drinks his chamomile tea before biting a bit of his cookie. "I know you're not going to ask me,"

"You're right," Birdie reaches for the other cookie but she gets smacked in the hand. "Hey, I thought that was mine!"

"Two cookies for me, you should've bought one for yourself," He sticks out his tongue that has leftover traces of cookies that aren't ground up by his teeth. "I've had a shitty day myself. So, having rain like this and a cup of tea with a woman... it's kind of a nice change of atmosphere and to end the day on a good note,"

"How was it shitty?" Birdie simply asks, sipping her tea.

"Well," He hums. "There was this company that I wanted to show my script to the art team and they suggested that they needed to bring their chief executive officer in too because, well, they handle the creatives much like them. I heard that they've got an insanely creative mind or something," He bites a chunk of the cookie and looks at the rain droplets while Birdie's mindlessly sipping her tea. "So, they called for them and by the time they came back to me, they told me that the officer asked me to set a proper appointment because it is very..." He hums. "What is the word...?"

"Inappropriate?" Birdie sips her tea for a second before she freezes. 'Fuck,' She thinks while frozen in that position. She looks above from her tea and sees the man's smile. "Alright, mister... are you stalking me?"

"Stalking?" He looks offended yet there is a grin on his lips. "Whoever said I was going to stalk someone ungrateful like you? Merciless creature," He flicks a crumb of his cookie and it lands onto her head. "I'd get that for you, but I think you need to fix your attitude," The man laughs once more, but he stops when Birdie simply pulls it off and places it onto the plate of the cookies-gone-missing. "Hey, no hard feelings, I was just kidding..."

"Oh, no," Birdie shakes her head, clearing her throat. "Teases as these remind me of my brother and me when our father was around," She sighs, looking at her hairline's reflection over her tea. "He'd say the simplest thing that would shut my brother's trap up and, well, save me from being oversensitive. He'd always say,"

"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle," Both of them recite. Birdie looks up at him with a cocked eyebrow. "You know Plato as well?" She asks.

"Not personally," The man simply smiles, bringing the cup to his lips. "Just remembered a girl I met at this party and she was the sweetest person. Told me that her father was a philosophy major and that's when her mother met, how Invictus was created,"

Birdie looks into his green eyes, the dirty blonde hair. No wonder she can't recognise him. He's all grown up now. He's not like Peter Pan, he didn't refuse to not grow up. "How many years has it been?" She smiles. "Twenty?"

"Twenty-five,"

"Why'd you come back?" Birdie asks. "I mean... sorry, inappropriate question,"

He chuckles. "It's alright. I came back... well, because of you," He says. "When you told me that your mother created a company solely off of a philosopher's words, who knows what else could be the possibility of anyone's dream? Of course, back then, we didn't have the internet yet... so all I read about Invictus was in the newspaper my Pop's read," He continues. "Produced this movie, that movie, endless movies and... well, I picked up the writing bug," He pulls out something from his bag and produces a thick item, layers upon layers of papers that are compacted into a document. "I thought I'd be able to get Invictus to produce my movie... but you weren't available..." He says, nicely saying that is. "I didn't stalk you or anything, to be honest, I just heard this café's really good,"

"Sure, you didn't," Birdie rolls her eyes with a smile. She grabs the script, seeing on the cover page, written in a typewriter typeface: Fountain Memories. Written by Lupin Graves. "You wrote this whole thing by yourself?" She asks, flipping through the pages while he nods. "Fountain Memories... that's... a fresh title," She smiles. "If you had told my assistant about you, I would've spared some time,"

"You'd say that now, but if I had said that earlier when you were in the office, you wouldn't recognise me," He chuckles. "You didn't even recognise me when I ask for a cup of tea,"

"You've... got a point," Birdie smiles. "I'll give this script a read. Can't promise by tonight. If I like it, I'll get my team to contact you so we can have a meeting," She settles the script into her messenger bag. "Do you mind if I get your email address?"

"Ah, here," He pulls out a business card from his wallet and hands it to her. "It's got my email address and phone number. Who knows, maybe you'd like to have another tea session with me?" He smiles, standing up and carries his knapsack "I'd better go now. My roommate downstairs won't like it if I don't go back home and find the kitchen messy again,"

"Downstairs?"

"The cashier," Lupin smiles. "His name is Cedar Borne. Don't forget that name, alright?" He ruffles her brunette hair before strolling away.