She came out of the cinema and walked a few blocks to her stop.
She was always happy to go to the pictures on her own. She never felt the need for company, unless she had a current boyfriend, which she hadn’t. Her last one was a disaster. Why couldn’t these guys be like the ones she saw on the big screen, she thought, romantic… caring. She was thinking about some of her idols from a decade ago. Now, they were the sort of men that could really make a girl’s heart flutter! It had been a matinee show and she probably had enough time on hand to stop at a café before heading home. She was checking out shop fronts when she spotted him. He was sitting cross-legged against a wall on the other side of the street. A down and out. No cap in front for collecting coins, but definitely a down and out.
She had to ask herself why she was paying so much attention to him. He did seem familiar in a strange way. Her first thought was that he could have been one of her teachers, the age would be about right. She slowed her pace until she was opposite him. He had moved his head back with his eyes almost shut as though he was sunning his face. It was certainly a face she knew. Then it came to her. This was the actor that dropped out, the one that suddenly disappeared from the big silver screen, something about drugs. He would certainly fall into the category of heartthrobs she’d been thinking about. How did he end up here? Maybe this was always his home town; even stars had to live somewhere, right?
She stood there, with so many questions and thoughts running through her head, not least, the question as to whether she was right. Was she just kidding herself? If she was right, she would have been around seventeen and he would have been in his early twenties, back then. Call it five or maybe six years difference. Now, she at twenty-six would make him thirty or so. That all sounded about right, and he looked to be that age… but was she right?
Only one way to find out, of course. She crossed the street slowly, taking in his every facial feature. His eyes were closed now, he was probably still enjoying the sun. He hadn’t shaved for a bit, but the blemish on his right cheek was visible. Then there was that break in his eyebrow. She stood in front of him, trying not to throw a shadow. If he woke up, what would she say?
His eyes snapped open and he stared up at her.
She blurted, “Are you…”
He waved a hand, “Don’t say it.” he interrupted. “I get enough of that.”
She gawped. “You really are him, aren’t you?”
“I really am,” he said, smiling. “Did you want to take me home and look after me?”
“No, but we could start with a cup of coffee?”
