"My name is Psyche! Pleased to meet you, Eros," she revealed.
My pupils dilated like I was high on cocaine. Her words struck me like a bolt of lightning.
Ain't no way! What were the chances of encountering the contract holder I needed most for my plans on the very first day of The Carrington Event?
Probably 3 percent or lower.
This contract holder could have been anywhere in the world, yet she resides in Manhattan like me.
At that moment, It felt as though fate itself was helping me, orchestrating this meeting and guiding us towards a shared destiny.
Truly, Lady Luck is smiling.
Maintaining an air of nonchalance, I responded, "The pleasure is mine, my love." While of course concealing my foreknowledge of her identity, I continued, "I know a great coffee shop nearby. Given the shit show at hand, most places are probably closed, but this one's owned by a friend. They'll surely let us in. It's just a short walk from here. We'll get you a towel and a hot beverage. I'd recommend ginger lemon tea—it'll boost your immune system and keep you from catching a cold.
So, shall we?"
With a nod and a smile, she agreed. "Sure! Let's go!"
As we walked towards the coffee shop, I scanned Psyche, observing her every move, searching for any nuances or vulnerabilities I could exploit to further my agenda.
Despite the gravity of my mission—world domination, the establishment of a cult, and uncovering the truth—I couldn't deny the fact that she was fucking attractive.
Maybe In another life, under different circumstances, I might have entertained the thought of dating her. But fate had other plans for me, and I was committed to the path set before me, regardless of personal preferences. It is just the luck of the draw.
As we walked, I couldn't help but notice Psyche's unique outfit, proof of her liking for the baroque/victorian dark academia style. Her choice of clothing—a wide-brim black straw hat, a unique Victorian black semi-transparent dress, fishnets, and black heels—told me a lot about her tastes and preferences. Decorated with a blue evil eye necklace and another necklace with a crystal pendant, it was clear that this girl was one of those crystal woo woo witchy girls and that she held beliefs in mythology, astrology, and Wicca.
Her makeup, consisting of dark smokey eyeshadow, sharp black eyeliner, and lip gloss, underlined her features with a simple yet striking allure.
Physically, she was a slim, tall woman in her mid-20s, with very pale porcelainish skin, hinting at a potential anemia common among many people nowadays because of their poor diets.
Also, subtle details like her dark circles suggested possible sleep or mental health issues, like insomnia for example.
With submissive-looking eyes—one pupil blue, the other grey, she looked unreal. Her small, sharp nose and plump, cherry-like lips added to that allure.
If I had to choose an animal that resembled her, it would be a raven, she had this dark elegance about her.
Yet beneath her enigmatic exterior, there surely hid a sense of abandonment, a cold forest vibe that hinted at deeper complexities.
With all this information gathered, one simple conclusion appeared: Psyche had unresolved issues, perhaps coming from her family—a yearning for a father figure to provide stability and support in her life.
Basically, daddy issues.
After a ten-minute walk, we found ourselves standing before the coffee shop, The Black Pearl, its windows and its doors firmly shut. I knew my friend Calypso was inside, despite the closed sign hanging on the door.
I removed my mask and pressed the doorbell,
"Hello, sorry we are closed," came Calypso's voice from within.
"Srrrrrrr. Ding Dong.
Open up, it is the police. You are under arrest for making the best cappuccinos in Manhattan." I replied, my tone carrying a hint of comedy.
A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing Calypso's silhouette.
With a quick nod of acknowledgment, she hugged me and she ushered us inside, her movements hurried yet welcoming. After exchanging greetings, I introduced Psyche to Calypso, who greeted her with a warm smile.
"Calypso, can I have the usual, and for the miss a ginger lemon tea please," I requested, settling into a seat as Calypso busied herself behind the counter.
"Right away, love," Calypso responded, "Psyche, my dear, feel at home."
"Thank you, Calypso, and thank you for letting us in. The weather is chaotic, and the people are even more chaotic than it," Psyche remarked softly, her words carrying a sense of unease.
As Calypso prepared our drinks, she glanced up at us with a knowing look, her expression mirroring the underlying tension in the air. "You're damn right! I don't know what is wrong with people! One small connection issue and everyone turned into Satan! Dark times are upon us, but I believe this will pass and we will be alright."
We both exchanged smiles with Calypso, appreciating her warmth and optimism in the face of the chaos outside. Calypso possessed a rare quality of unwavering positivity, a trait that I admired her for.
Despite my usual hesitancy to form close connections, because I didn't see meaning behind it.
She was to me, a token of hope in a world filled with cruelty. She was the embodiment of good faith and innocence.
With her long, curly blonde hair cascading around her shoulders and her big brown eyes radiating kindness, Calypso was a striking figure. Her wide, warm smile was ever-present, proof of her resilient spirit and compassionate nature. Despite being let down by others countless times, she never lost faith in humanity, and I envy her for that.
As Calypso placed our drinks on the table along with two croissants, her generosity shone through. "There we go, the drinks. The croissants are on the house, your favorite! Enjoy your drinks and your croissants," she said cheerfully, her voice filled with genuine warmth. "I'll be upstairs, gotta feed the dogs! If you need anything, just call me, and I'll be here!"
Psyche graciously thanked Calypso, expressing her gratitude for the hospitality. "Thank you so much, Calypso, you are so kind," she said with a genuine smile.
I nodded appreciatively, acknowledging Calypso's kindness. "Why thank you, love," I replied. "Before going upstairs, I'll smoke some ciggies here, you don't mind, right?"
Calypso reassured Psyche, extending her hospitality to her as well. "No worries, Psyche. Any friend of Eros is very welcome here," she affirmed. "Oh, and yes, love, you can. Have fun! I'll be back in 15 minutes or so."
As I savored the rich flavor of my cappuccino, I couldn't help but admire Calypso's coffee-making skills. It was as if she wielded a touch of witchcraft in every cup.
Turning my attention to Psyche, I noticed her hesitance to drink the tea. "You better drink that hot tea before it gets cold," I remarked.
"I can tell you're more of an iced coffee or a bubble tea person, but this hot tea will make you feel warm and will protect you from getting sick. Wait here, I will borrow a towel from Calypso so you can dry your hair. Be right back."
With a nod of agreement, Psyche waited patiently as I fetched a towel from Calypso and returned to dry her hair. She sat quietly, allowing me to tend to her, a moment of intimacy amidst the chaos of the world outside.
I then remarked, "Your hair isn't that wet, and that is probably because of your hat, that's a good thing.
There we are, as dry as the Sahara.
Keep the towel on your head for a bit, and when Calypso comes back, I can ask her for her hair dryer so we can tidy you up."