This day had started off going so smoothly. She had spent her morning looking her best and then had settled in the park where she strummed her guitar and sang a few songs about life and love, of loss and of dreams. Her playlist this morning seemed to be a hit. Her tips were up since yesterday and there was even an elderly woman who had perched herself on the bench across from her just so she could listen to her sing and play. She could remember the elderly woman looking up from her seat when Emmy paused, her eyes settling on her face. With the smoothest voice the elderly woman could make, she made a statement that made Emmy's heart hurt. "Now why is such a pretty young woman singing about things so dark. Sing something happy, child. Make an old woman happy." If only she could tell the woman that her life was nothing but sad.

She didn't tell the woman about how it was her supernatural tendencies that had caused her parents to kick her out of the house. She didn't tell the old woman that she had fallen in love and it was her own powers that had killed him. Instead of telling her that she was homeless and alone, she headed the woman's advice and sang a song filled with hope and promise. Perhaps she needed to hope that there was something more in this world for her...that she would find some sort of meaning. Perhaps she had to believe that she would come up on her luck, that she would find someplace to call her own. Perhaps even, she had to believe that she could make a career out of her music. Emmy didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise. And so, she sang until the woman finally got up off her bench and meandered away with her walker down the path.

Now that she had fallen face first in front of a busy bar, Emmy was certain that she would only ever account to the laughing stock of the crowd. While she wanted to make an impression, this was not the impression she had wanted to make. She simply picked herself up off the ground, brushed off her jeans, and proceeded to melt away into the crowd, hoping that no one seemed to care about her little fall and they were more concerned about their alcohol.

She thought she had gotten her wish until the sound of a young man speaking over the crowd of people hit her ears. Slowly, she rose her gaze to see where the voice was coming from. With a slow tilt of her head, she can see the man walking towards her out of the corner of her eye. She can see the way his gaze travels over her and it makes her slightly uncomfortable. She was a beautiful young woman and the looks were not uncommon. However, they still made her uneasy. She wasn't exactly experienced in the man department. Only Alex had stolen her heart.

But before she could say anything about her choice in alcoholic beverage, he was scooting into her booth directly across from her. She could feel her jaw drop, her mouth opening just slightly. Who did this guy think he was? This was her booth...her lunch...and her choice of drink. She is still dumbfounded when he states that he pegged her to be someone who likes white wine or perhaps champagne. This man thought he was all that â€" but he didn't know anything about her. She didn't even like alcohol...never had.

But before she can speak, he's waving down the bartender, asking for a glass, no a bottle, of champagne. She eyes the wad of cash he hands her and Emmy has half a mind to believe he's doing it just to show off that he is a man of many means. She's almost disgusted with him, thinking she was some cheap date. However, she has to wonder if at some point, she might have to stoop as low as solicitation in order to secure a roof over her head. It's a thought she's had before, not that she liked it. But it was practical.

When the waitress leaves and he turns his gaze back to her, she can almost feel his gaze on her like a crawling insect up her body. She shudders lightly. "Don't call me that. I have a name." Though will Emmy freely give her name, probably not. She's still too irked that this man had the balls enough to just slide into her booth and order champagne completely uninvited. "Creep, I can ask the same about what brought you over to my booth and interrupted my lunch." Was a bit sarcastic and a bit much, probably. However, at the time it seemed perfectly warranted.

It was then that her eyes darted to the waitress who brought back the bottle and the two glasses. She set them on the table before leaving, Emmy's eyes going back to the strange man who was still sitting in her booth. He asks if she wants to do the honors and she shakes her head. "I don't really drink...so you just wasted a lot of money on yourself." While the statement that she didn't really drink was entirely true, there was a sense of satisfaction about knowing that he had spent a small fortune on a bottle of alcohol that he would be enjoying himself.