Bancha

"It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences." - Audre Lorde

I nodded my thanks for the tea before turning my attention to the window. Everyday I would sit there wiling the hours away, listening to music, drinking pots of tea and nibbling on lemon cake. Except that day the café had run out of lemon cake, making me feel more miserable than I already was.

"Hello." I jumped and looked across the coffee table. I wasn't used to people talking to me, so the interaction caught me by surprise. I looked at him quizzically, taking a sip of my tea.

"My name is Dylan." He introduced, extending his hand to me. I just looked at it uncomfortably. He cleared his throat and slowly retracted his hand. I quickly took his hand in mine and shook it. He smiled widely at me. "What's your name?"

I took the pen from behind my ear and scribbled something on the paper napkin before pushing it towards him. "Ellie." He said slowly, as if testing my name on his tongue. "Cute name." I pursed my lips and looked down.

"Do you know me?" He asked, looking hopeful. I shook my head. His face fell slightly, but he kept a smile on his face. "I serve you everyday." He told me.

You do?

"Every single day you order the same Earl Grey tea and a lemon cake. You sit here for hours on end, staring out the window or scribbling away in that notebook for yours. What do you write about?"

Stuff.

"What kinda stuff?"

You don't want to know.

"So... um... I have to get back to my shift soon would you like to go out... for a cup of coffee?" He asked. I raised an eyebrow.

"Or tea?" He asked, scratching the back of his neck. I contemplated my decision before nodding. "Great so I'll see you same time tomorrow then." He grinned at me. And then he was gone. Just as fast as he came. I barely had time to blink.

In his wake he left a single lemon cupcake sitting on the table. I reached forward to pick up the perfectly iced, pale yellow cake, dusted with tiny white chocolate hearts. I glanced at him but he was serving a customer. Taking a bite, I savoured the sour yet sweet icing, the soft and warm cake filled with the tangiest lemon curd.

For some reason the cupcake tasted different to the others I had eaten in the café. I couldn't understand why. The cake was from the same café, was served by the same person and looked the same. Usually I'd nibble at my cake but that day I demolished it, ridding my fingers of the sticky lemon curd after.

I frowned at the memory of the encounter between me and the brown haired boy. No one had approached me before. Not that I gave them any excuse to, but I had been told I was too broody and miserable, too unapproachable. Taking a sip of my tea and wiping my hands on the napkin, I began scribbling away in my tattered notebook. As I wrote, I glanced furtively at the barista as he served the customers with a big smile.

For someone who was supposed to be very observant I was ridiculously unobservant. I was too busy watching the people outside I never thought to notice those who sat around me. Switching chairs, I now had a good view of both the café and the outside.

To me, the café had become a sort of haven. Somewhere to escape to. To others, the café signified many other things. To socialize, to conduct meetings, to relax and have a cup of coffee or just a quick stop before or after work. I had adopted the café as my home away from home. A place where I didn't have to feel, didn't need to. I could shut everything out and no one would question it. No one would try to understand it. No one would pretend.

What I hated most, more than life, was lying. Lying and pretenses and half truths. They were all the same to me. It didn't matter if the reason behind lying was out of good will. A lie was uttered and could never be taken back.

Once the words were said, the damage was done. You can't snatch the words from the air and shove them down your throat, no matter how many times you wished you could. I've seen many people try to take back their words but they could never see what they had done. In their distress of worrying how they came across to the recipient of those words, they forget how words have already been embedded so deep in grey matter, that not even surgery could rectify the damage.

I spent the rest of the day sitting in the cafe, but my eyes kept straying to the strange barista who thought a date with me would be somewhat enjoyable. As my eyes roamed the room, my pen ran across the page. That day I filled more pages than I would usually have done, but I felt no regrets. The words just flowed and my thoughts poured out.

Once I had finished my second pot of tea, I knew it was time to go. Regretfully I took one last sip of my Earl Grey and packed up my bag. I always left just before the cafe closed, and that day was like any other day. "Bye!" The barista called. I turned my head and waved before scurrying out the door.

I was determined not to change my routine and come earlier to the cafe, in fear that I would look too keen. I strode through the door, as casually as I could manage, avoiding any eye contact with my fellow caffeine addicts. I went to sit in my spot, only belatedly realizing it was occupied. Sitting in my chair was the dark haired barista, pouring a cup of Earl Grey and placing it across from him. He wasn't in his uniform, instead he wore a simple blue T-shirt, that brought out the blue in his eyes, and dark jeans.

"Morning Ellie," He grinned at me. His smile already lightening up my morning.

Good morning. I scribbled down in my notebook before passing it to him.

"So any plans for today?" He asked, lifting the china cup to his lips. He blew on his dark coffee for a moment before taking a sip.

No. I was just going to sit here and write. And drink tea.

"Well I took a day off today so we are going out." He announced.

We are?

"Yes now finish that delicious brew and of course your lemon cake before leaving." I nodded and pulled out a sprig of lavender from my pocket. Tearing the flowers off, I sprinkled them in the pot before swirling the dark brew. I inhaled the scent of lavender and bergamot before adding a few more flowers to my cup. We sat in a companionable silence, drinking our hot beverages, watching each others movements.

"Is your name short for anything, Ellie?" He asked.

It's Elise. But most people call me Ellie or Elle.

"From now on Ellie, you'll be know as Elise in my presence." He grinned.

Do you ever not smile?

"Smiling is good for you."

Is that so?

"It's been clinically proven." He told me proudly.

I don't really believe you Mr Einstein.

"What's there not to smile about?"

A lot of things. Death, war, earthquakes, disease.

"Okay then Miss Unhappy. What's got you down?"

Nothing. I just don't feel the need to smile.

"There doesn't have to be reason to smile. You just do. I smile because it makes our customers like me. I smile because it makes other people smile. I smile because it makes me happy. Most of all I smile because I can." He said, smiling.

I don't smile because, I don't want to. I want to feel unhappy. I don't care about other people. Not anymore. I don't smile because there is nothing to smile about.

"Then give me twenty one days and I'll show you there are lots of things to smile about." He told me determinedly.

What happens after the twenty one days?

"If you don't smile at least once. Then I'll leave you alone."

But if I smile?

"Then I'll have the pleasure to see the most beautiful thing in the world." I blushed at his confession. "I can see that you want to smile." He grinned at me.

I do NOT. I glared at him, for making me blush.

"Well if that statement is still true in twenty one days. Now this changes my plans slightly. But only slightly. If you're done then I have a few things to show you." He stood up, extending his hand out to me. I took it and allowed him to assist me. I whipped out my phone.

Where are we going?

"That's for me to know and you to find out." He replied after reading my message.

But I want to know!

"And you shall. For now just enjoy my company." He grinned mischievously. I rolled my eyes but continued walking beside him. We lived in a large city, with bustling streets and traffic jammed roads. To me it was like any other city. Loud, polluted and busy. There was nothing special about the city. Nothing more special than the next.

The park?

"Yes, the park." He grinned happily. The park was empty except for a few late dog walkers and an elderly couple. It was, after all, a working day.

What did you want to show me?

"This." He looked down at me.

The park?

"To you it just looks like a park but by the end of the twenty one days we'll come back and then you can tell me what it looks like." He said.

Dylan?

"Yes Elise?"

What has this got to do with me smiling?

"It has everything to do with you smiling." He smiled. Despite his overly cheery composure, I didn't feel annoyed that he was always happy. It made a good contrast to my sombre and dark mood.

We were strangers in every possible way. We were opposites in every possible way. We shouldn't have met. And yet here I was standing next the stranger wanting to know everything about him.

The nearby church rang the bell twelve times, signalling the start of the afternoon. "Now it's noon."

Thanks for stating the obvious.

"Just letting you know that twenty one days starts from now. We'll come to this park in twenty one days, exactly at noon. Now we need to get back to the café. I left something important there." He lead the short way back to the café and took me round to the back. We slipped through the back door and entered the kitchen. He grabbed a basket from the pantry and lead me back out again.

A basket? That was the important thing?

"Not the basket. The contents of the basket are important. At first I was going to take you out on a date. Now I realise I have something more to work towards." I frowned at him.

"Don't frown. You'll get lines." He said. I glared at him and slapped his arm. Instead of glaring back he just chuckled. He picked a spot close to a tree yet still in the midday sun. From the basket he took out a checkered blanket and lay it on the ground.

That's very clichéd

"The clichéd things are the most romantic." He winked, grinned at me. I removed my shoes and lay them beside the blanket. I took out my notebook and slipped the pen behind my ear. As I wrote down my thoughts about the boring park, Dylan laid out the food he had made. "You can stop writing now because we're going to enjoy this picnic."

It's just a picnic with food and drinks, and a clichéd blanket.

"It's not just any picnic. It's a picnic prepared by Dylan, the picnic basket extraordinaire!" He swooped his arm upwards towards the sky and took a bow. I just raised an eyebrow. "Okay anyways, close your eyes." He instructed. Immediately I shook my head.

"It'll be fine. Trust me."

I just met you. How do I know I can trust you?

"Because trusting someone is important. Without trust, I'm not going to be able to show you how to smile. And I need you to trust me." He pleaded, with a hopeful smile. I sighed and nodded my head.

This better be good.

"Oh it will be." He smirked. Slowly I closed my eyes, becoming blind to the world. "Open your hand." I was tempted to peek, but obliged anyways. On my open palm he placed a spherical object. My fingers closed around it, rolling it in my hand. "You can eat it you know." Hesitantly I placed it in my mouth and bit into it. My taste buds exploded with the juices from the grape. The sweet yet slightly sour juice filled my mouth. I opened my eyes and saw Dylan grinning at me.

It was a grape.

"I know it was a grape. I gave it to you. Now what did it taste like?"

It was sweet.

"You write all day. Surely you can give me a better description?" I thought for a moment before answering.

It was sweeter than any other grape I have eaten. The skin was slightly sour which enhanced the sweetness of the juice inside. The seeds added a hint of bitterness, but wasn't over powering. It was firm, giving the grape some form. There was a hint of tartness to it too.

Dylan was grinning at me, knowingly. "Now try this grape." He gave me a grape which looked exactly like the other. I placed it in my mouth and closed my eyes. As I bit into it the taste was completely different. It was still sweet, yet there was something different about it.

Why does it taste different?

"It's a grape. It can't taste any differently." He replied.

But it does.

"Then tell me what it tastes like."

It tastes sweet. The skin tastes slightly sour and the seeds are bitter.

"That's exactly the same description as the other grape." He laughed. At this I frowned. I couldn't describe why it was different even though it was the same. I wracked my brain to find something to describe why the grape tasted differently to me.

"Don't think too much." He said. "The grape is different because it is. There is no other explanation to why it's different."

That doesn't explain anything. He shook his head, amused. From the basket he picked out two apples and held them in two hands.

"There is something different between these two apples even if they look the same, taste the same, were grown from the same tree. It's different because they're two apples. There's no reason for them to be different, they just are. Each grape you eat, you will realize that you will never find a grape that is the same as each other."

I don't understand.

"Lesson number one. Everything is different, no matter how similar they look, feel, taste or sound, you just need to appreciate it because differences are what makes us unique."

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I know, I know. I haven't updated Aurora but I'm updating this. But in my defense I have written a few chapters of Shades of Tea, they just need editing. I have to warn you though. The updates are going to be very infrequent. Don't hate me please. But I have just started Medical School and it's hectic. With midterms in a few weeks and anatomy taking up my life, I just don't have time to write. Maybe after midterms are over I'll have some time. Right now just bear with me because I will update.

Hope you enjoyed this start to Shades of Tea. Please comment and let me know what you think. Should I continue? Where do you want me to take this? Also the little star is waiting to be clicked.

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Neha.

Keep Smiling :)

Update: just going through the chapters, editing little bits because I'm thinking of entering this for The Watty awards.