You Could Make a Grown Man Cry( Open/ Casual)

[MONA LISA DRAGOTI]

Mona didn't go out often, in fact if she could then she would stay locked away in her home till she died. But it seemed that her stomach had other plans. She had been quietly sitting on her bed throwing a tennis ball at the wall separating her apartment and the neighbor's. She liked doing it because it annoyed her neighbors, and that was the only reason she needed. It was a silent task too, another thing Mona liked. Yet her precious silence was broken by the loud growling coming from her stomach. She had ignored it for a while until the pain started. Once the pain had began she knew that she couldn't of ignore her stomach any longer. She crawled off her bed and took the short, 10 step, walk to her small corner that held a refrigerator and microwave.It was only when she reached them that she realized that they held no food, she would have to go out to eat or starve.

But she was suicidal, not a masochist.

Her apartment was a tiny, one room, one bath, located in the bad part of New York. She'd once lived in a larger apartment, but after her attempted suicide, she decided that she couldn't live in the same place as her best friend.

Mona had left her apartment after pulling on some pants , she was only in PJ's before, and walked down the street to a small crappy dinner that would serve her food quickly. Then she could go home and continue doing nothing.

When she entered the dinner, everyone stopped and looked at her. She ignored them and stared with blank eyes while moving to sit in a booth in the back. The bright and bubbly waitress came over and asked what her drink would be. Her smile annoyed Mona, no one needed to be that happy, it was unnatural. She would know she had spent year plastering that same fake smile on her face. So to get rid of it Mona replied , whatever you didn't drink to give you those thighs.

She had a new waitress a few minutes later after the blonde barbie ran off crying.

Feeling like a job well done, Mona told the new waitress that she wanted coffee black. Then she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She shouldn't of been tired , all she did most of the time was sleep. Yet she always felt tired when she went out in the world. It was the opposite for most people, but then again Mona had never been most people.

She didn't move or open her eyes when the waitress put her coffee down. Just waved her off and stayed where she was. Her stomach wouldn't mind waiting a few more minutes.

[EDWARD ROCHESTER]

Edward hadn't felt like staying in his hotel room that night, so he grabbed his trench coat (Adele was forever calling it The Columbo Coat) and stepped out into the damp night, walking wherever his feet took him, wlaking nowhere and everywhere. He went past high-end strip clubs where shifty-eyed men in expensive suit jackets were greeted at the door by an immpossibly skinny girl in an impossibly short tube dress covered in gold sequins. He walked through allies that stunk of garbage and bad food and feral cats where hard-faced drug-dealers leaned against dumpsters waiting for their customers.

He walked on and on for what seemd like forever and a day, when he came across a small diner, the kind that probably had a linoleum floor and long checkered counter inside, its neon sign flickering half-heartedly against the black night sky. He walked in silently, for no other reason than to get warm, and maybe see if he could get something to drink.

Almost as soon as he walked in, he noticed a blonde, rather perky looking wiatress running into the back room in tears. The staff and the few patronsp resent all had there eyes focused uncertainly on a sour-faced young woman in a booth by the door clad in shabby pajamas. She scowled and ordered black coffee from another waitress and waited in silence. Edward went to the counter and ordered a cup of Earl Grey tea, which he was surprised to know they actually had. As his order was being processed, he sat down across from the girl without a word and smirked at her. "I know girls like that must make your head hurt," he said casually, as if they had been friends, "But don't you think that was just a little mean?"

[MONA LISA DRAGOTI]

Mona instantly felt the glare come upon her face, even with her eyes closed anyone would know that she was not a happy camper. Taking a deep breathe to calm herself she lifted her head and opened her eyes to stare at the man in front of her. To say that she was impressed with him would be a lie. She wasn't impressed with any man, she couldn't be. To her they were almost a waste of space, the only use she could see for them was reproduction. Yet she couldn't deny that this man had a regal air about him . Like he should be siting on thrown and not the cracked vinyl seats in the dinner. And that fact about him made Mona's blank stare turn into one of ice.

"Only a little mean. Damn I must be losing my touch, Maybe I should try harder next time. Oh I know, I'll talk about the fact that no matter how long she and her boyfriend are together she'll never get him to marry her, cause he has about 3 bitches on the side catering to his every need"

Mona didn't know the exact number of women that the man must of had, but she knew he had to have some. The blonde was beautiful, no matter how much she annoyed Mona. And she could see clearly that the man didn't care for her other then getting laid. She could see even now the blonde crying into his shoulder while he was checking out the ass of a passing waitress.

It disgusted her.

She could never be straight, hell even bi, because most men made her sick. They always had, ever since they beat her up in the parking lots of schools, or her father pushing her down stairs, or the thugs who put her in the hospital. How could she ever stand to be touched by the very gender that had hurt her so bad.

Thinking of this made a bright hatred burn in Mona's eyes as she turned her gaze from the waitress and her boyfriend to the man sitting across from her.

"Now what the fuck do you think your doing at my table? And how in God's name do I get you out?"

[EDWARD ROCHESTER]

Edward grinned. He had taken worse barbs than this girl was throwing at him right now. Maybe they both just needed some company.

"You don't," He said in response to her query, just as an uneasy waitress came over with his tea. He thanked and carefully sipped it. Not bad. I little bland for his taste, but at least it actually tasted like Earl Grey.

"The way I see it," He continued after placing his mug on the table top, "We've both had bad days - my whole godamned week has been bad, actually - so we might as well keep each other company. It's so much more fun to wallow in your sorrows with another person. A steady supply of strong alcohol wouldn't hurt either, but that's neither here nor there."

He looked at the girl earnestly. Something much worse than just a bad day was in her life. That was the only way someone young could be so angry.

"Something must be going on in that head of yours. It me over 40 years before I got as bitter as you." Edward took another sip of his tea, picked up the bottle of honey on the table and squirted a healthy dose into his mug. He looked back up at girl with the dead glare, pausing only a moment before holding out his hand.

"My name is Edward by the way." He said casually, as if he had just met her in some nice quiet coffee shop rather than a secluded diner where she was insulting the staff.