You walk into a cacophony of music, talking and laughter. People were reading and browsing books at the bookshelves to the left and in the back others were looking through vinyls. The coffee counter was situated at your right and the second level of the store was for seating. You order from the counter an iced flavored something? Honestly the barista was talking so fast and animated you got lost to what you were actually ordering.
You and you drink walk through the bookshelves looking at what would strike inspiration. The current and hip indie music expands your minds mental storage of what to add to your playlist next. The thought is immediately interrupted by raucous laughter. You look to see what might be funny. This place is for cool artists that you desperately want to get know more of. But the pair while cool were not the kind you wanted to see. Nothing is more daunting then seeing your ex at a rad hipster book/music/coffee shop. Suddenly your hiding in a bookcase and your heart has sunken deep. You make careful steps to get out of the book area to the upstairs seating. There you hide yourself in a corner with your work. The happy indie music is not match for you sad playlist that rings out in your mid as you try to concentrate on work.
While sadly sipping on your iced something or other, your mind wanders into insecurity.
Why are they here?
Why am I here?
Do they not know my heart is broken?
I will be alone forever?
This all gets too much. You throw away your half drunken drink and slink out of the Culture Cafe.
You could not even start your word doc.
Ironically enough it starts to rain as you go back home and lay down in your sadness.