Scott had no emotion. Usually this wouldn't be out of the ordinary for Scott. But, he seemed to be deep in thought. Distanced. Not in a way as if he was above everyone. But it almost seemed he was lost. Scared even. Him being scared made me scared. What was he scared for? I watched his eyes dart as he followed the cars.

My left foot lost grip and began to slide. It slid across the top of the table, causing my weight to become off balanced. The side of the table tilted, my other foot immeditately followed. The legs if the small table snapped as I began to follow. I tried to grip onto the railing but it was too slippery. And I lost grip. The table slid from beneath me now, the remains of the table legs splintered. I slammed against the ground, the small pot plant smashing on impact, sending shards of terracotta and dirt across the balcony.

He placed a hand on my leg, rubbing it comfortably. It was clearly meant as a friendly gesture but it immediately sent alarm bells ringing in my mind. Could he just move his hand? Wasn't he aware how uncomfortable he was making me feel? I continued to eat the soup, trying to remain calm.