Rosetta looked sullenly out the window of the cafe. She was in the same spot she usually sat at. Her red headphones were on her ears, drowning out every sound around her and blasting her playlist of lo-fi, joji, cavetown, and mxmtoon.
Roetta particularly liked her outfit today. It was a soft, fluffy pastel pink sweater coupled with tight black pants and black ballet-esque shoes. Her sweater had a cute picture of cherries on it, which was her favorite thing in the world. On her arm she had two emergency scrunchies, one the same pastel pink of the sweater and the other black. Rosetta wasn't exactly a fashionista, but she knew how to color match. But I digress.
Today in particular was slightly chilly, it marked the transition to the fall season. The leaves in the trees were beginning to turn shades of reds, oranges, browns, and yellows. Rosetta couldn't help but think that they were too beautiful, too aesthetic, too perfectly crafted against the background of the rising sun to be real. A few cars drove past, but it was still early and the passing car or two only added to the evanescent beauty emanating from the scenery.
Yet here Rosetta sat, in the corner of the cafe. Watching from the sidelines, as always. She never knew if she even really existed. Nothing held her down, she had made no friends. School years had passed by with her not saying a word to anyone. They had tried, trust me. They tried. But in the end she never spoke, just watched as everyone else did. It creeped everyone out- according to what some people had told her. They called her things like "mute girl" or "rose thorn" or, her personal favorite, "Mrs. talks a not" (like talk a lot? But not? Rosetta would giggle thinking about the strange elementary stupidity of it)
She supposed they were right. It had been years since she last spoke, she wasn't even sure if she was able to anymore. Her job as an digital comission artist and animator allowed her to message people instead of talking directly. Even with her own family she would rather observe than to fraternize. Her grandmother was actually mute so Rosetta's childhood days were so quiet that you could hear a drop of water all the way from the other side of the apartment.
The only thing between her and the consuming silence now was her cherry red headphones. The soft music filled her with a sense of vibrancy and awakenness. It was the only thing between her and oblivion, her and the everlasting silence, her and screeching realities.
Sensing a motion beside her, Rosetta snaps out of her ritualistic morning trance and away from the window. It was the waitress that usually takes her order.. But something about her was different, the way the light hit her just right, the way her silhouette was framed in that perfect moment. Rosetta's breathe caught in her throat, her heart stopped. She fell in love then and there.
The waitress, accustomed to the silent girl's morning habits, smiled and handed Rosetta the vanilla bean frappechino she would always order. The waitress wore not only an award winning smile, but also a nametag that read 'Hello, may name is: Alice'.
Rosetta finally, for the first time in a long time, took off her cherry red headphones. She looked at the waitress quizzically, as if to say 'but i didn't order yet..?'
The waitress winked and said, "It's on the house."
Rosetta hesitantly returned the smile. Her face felt weird, it hadn't done that smile thing in a while.. probably not ever, actually. Not a genuine one, atleast.
Rosetta opened her mouth to croak out two simple words, but her vocal cords had been resting for so long that Rosetta sounded strange and sickly, "Thank you."