LABYRINTH | Scarlett Johansson x Daughter

1 | grindhouse café.

Kenzie

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as I sat alone at the table across the front window, watching as every individual walked by my favourite café in Manhattan.

Baristas calling out people's names and the toddler screaming into his mother's ear seemed to fade into the background as I hoped my own biological mother would walk in.

My ears perked up every time the squeaky glass door would open and let in a breeze of the autumn air, but I began to feel defeated as the minutes passed and she didn't show. In fact, I was beginning to get annoyed. She was the one who wanted to meet with me in the first place and I will be royally pissed if she's made me get my hopes up for nothing.

My knees bounced underneath the table and my chin rested in my right hand as my left tapped the screen on my phone. Nine-seventeen A.M.
I've been waiting for nearly twenty minutes.

Usually I'll try to remain optimistic, but when what little hope you have left about maybe having an adult figure in your life that you can rely on disappears, it's a little tougher.
With that, I slide my chair out and pick up my favourite tote bag from the floor with a huff.

I feel stupid for holding out hope and I feel especially stupid for writing down topics to talk about in my notes app incase any awkward silence between us would occur.

I walk through the hustle and bustle that is the Grindhouse Café at peak hour on a Saturday morning to get to the door and leave. However, I'm stopped in my tracks when I see Scarlett about to walk in.

Anybody could tell that we're related. I'm the spitting image of her...apparently.

The same blonde hair, green eyes and nose. The only noticeable difference in our features is that her lips are a lot more full than mine. I must have inherited my fathers mouth.
Whoever the hell he is, I don't know.

"Kenzie?"

Her voice is exactly as hoarse as it is in the many interviews I've seen of her.
I haven't watched her movies. I'm not a huge movie fan, primarily due to the fact that I struggle to sit still for more than half an hour at a time.

Also, I had no idea who Scarlett Johansson was until a few weeks ago when she reached out and told me she birthed me.

Lucky for her sake, I already knew I was adopted otherwise it would have been a fun surprise.

"Hi," I breathe. My grasp on the straps of my bag is firm, feeling suddenly uneasy and uncomfortable. It's real now. I've always wondered what my biological mother was like and now I'm about to find out. It scares me.
I almost hope she's this horrible, selfish and arrogant person so I don't have to get mad at her for leaving me with the parents I unfortunately landed.

"Hey," she says. The smile resting on her lips is warm and I already know that I'm going to have to get mad at her.
Nobody has a warm smile if they're a horrible person.

I turn on my heels and step back inside the crowded café. Scarlett let me choose the time and place and I chose to come at peak hour for a couple of reasons. The first being I would be able to make a run for it if need be. The second being that people are too caught up in themselves first thing in the morning therefore I feel as though less people would be aware of the fact that a big celebrity name is having breakfast with a strange sixteen year old girl from Jersey City.