Short Changed || #ONC2022

Chapter III

Walking out of the restaurant was like entering a new world.

Trees flanked the street, their leaves dancing from branch to ground in a flutter of gold, berry-reds and browns. Annabelle felt the breeze along her face, rich with the smell of damp soil, and stared up. There were no stars tonight – just a vast, stormy quilt of clouds against a night sky.

Perhaps that had been a warning from the universe. Because, the second she started to move towards the cars parked along the street, she heard him.

"Hey."

Al Moitzi.

Her catfishing, identity-thieving, talking-with-food-in-his-mouth date.

She didn't even turn to face him as she said, "What do you want?"

He sighed. She felt his shadow fall over her, cold and dark.

"Look, I've thought about it," he said. "And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied about who I am. I've just been rejected so many times because of the way I look and... I didn't know what to do."

Annabelle shrugged. "Stop faking your identity. That's all you have to do."

"Please. I'm sorry. Just give me one more date. One more chance to make it up to you."

"No."

"Just one more. I swear."

"And I said no."

She knew she sounded like a cold, cruel person. But seeing the way he lied, the way he spoke to the waiters, the way he commented about her job—

"Don't be stubborn," he insisted. "You'll regret this. We have something—"

"And I said—"

That night, her favourite waiter had saved her multiple times. He had saved her from burning down the restaurant, to helping her scream it all out in the bathrooms, to burning her date with some chilli.

So she shouldn't have been too shocked when she heard his voice, and his elegant accent, roll through the air.

"Miss," he called out. "You're short-changed for the drink you ordered."

Annabelle froze, her lips pursed.

Surely he had told her before that there had been no need to pay for the drink? Had there been some sort of misunderstanding?

Then, when she turned to face him, she caught the glimmer in his eyes. The gentle concern.

Let me help you.

Annabelle turned to Al. Waved away his outstretched hand. "I better go inside and sort that out."

"Do you want me to wait out here or—"

"No."

He curled his fingers, shaking his head. Scoffing. "So, that's it then? No second chance?"

Annabelle felt the change in her bones.

His fists were shaking. His face was glowing bright with unadulterated fury. And he was stepping way too close for comfort.

He was going to hurt her. She was sure of it.

"Miss? Please come inside and sort the bill out."

The waiter's voice. Reaching out for her like a lifeline. Pulling her back into her shoes.

Annabelle raised her gaze up to Al. "I need to go. And if you wait out here, I will call the police."

Then, she turned on her heel and marched right back into the restaurant.