The Strange Man

Frank Ruins It

Charlie couldn't quite seem to understand what was happening; he felt calm and happy without drugs or alcohol. She must've spiked him with something... right? No. When would she even have had the chance?
'She must be a witch,' he thought, 'or maybe a magician...' He then began to get caught up in thoughts about magicians. "Are you okay?" Charlie was snapped back into reality by Dahlia's question. He shook his head, trying to get out of his head. "What?... oh, yeah! I'm fine!" He tried to act as though he hadn't just completely zoned out. "I'm cool... you know... chill." Charlie awkwardly pulled out some finger guns. He winked and clicked his tongue as he pulled the imaginary triggers.
"Finger guns," Dahlia responded, "very chill. Some people don't seem to like them, but I think that they can add a cool kind of flare to any conversation..." She caught herself beginning to ramble again and stopped herself, looking shamefully at the ground and shaking her head. "Sorry," she said, "I usually don't talk much, so I'm not very good at this." This upset Charlie. "Why don't you talk?", he asked. Dahlia looked up at him, surprised that he actually seemed to care. "Well... umm... you see... it's a mix of things. It's mostly because my brain sucks. Like, you know, social anxiety and general anxiety and stuff..." 'Dammit!", she thought. 'What is wrong with me?! I'm going to push him away!' Her eyes shot back down to the ground as she kicked at some pebbles. "Oh," he said as he tried to understand, "I can help you with that!" Dahlia looked back up at him, no longer focusing on the small pebbles at her feet. "What?", she said softly. "You can talk to me! Like, practice and stuff!", Charlie flung his arms up and smiled with widened eyes. He was very satisfied and confident about his idea. He was like a happy little puppy.
"That sounds... really nice," Dahlia said with a smile on her face and happiness in her heart. The two stood awkwardly. They stared into each other's eyes for a blissful moment before a voice ended it. "Hey!" The voice belonged to the short man... Frank was his name, Dahlia recalled. "What're you two doing?! Were you about to bang or something?" Frank's comment shocked Dahlia. 'Is that what's happening here?!', she thought. "No!", Charlie yelled. "Why does your mind always go there?!" He seemed equally as shocked and disgusted. Frank responded, "You can get kinda unpredictable! Maybe you've decided to move from huffing glue to banging strangers! I don't know!"
Charlie's face turned red with frustration and embarrassment. He turned to Dahlia to apologize and explain, but she was gone. "What the hell, Frank?!", he yelled. Frank shrugged and pulled a beer out of what seemed like thin air. "She's a fast one," he said. "Very nice, but very fast..." he began to trail off, staring into space. "What?", Charlie asked. He was both confused and slightly concerned before realizing that Frank did that kind of thing all the time. He rolled his eyes and walked back to the bar. Frank would snap out of it and find his way back eventually. He always did.