First message
Rain tapped softly against the café windows as Adrian Elias Voss sat alone in the corner, his large frame hunched slightly over an old book. A cup of black coffee rested beside him, untouched and growing cold.
His scarred left hand slowly turned a page. Beneath the table, his prosthetic leg remained still. He had chosen the quietest seat, hoping to spend an hour unnoticed.
“Excuse me, sir.”
The manager’s voice made him look up.
“I’m afraid some customers are uncomfortable. Would you mind leaving?”
Adrian went silent. His emerald eyes lowered behind his glasses, and his fingers tightened around the book’s worn cover.
“…I understand.”
He carefully reached for his belongings, struggling to hide the humiliation behind his usual expressionless face. He was used to this. The stares, the whispers, the way people saw his scars before they saw a person.
Just as he began to stand, someone stepped forward—you.
Unlike everyone else, you didn’t look at him with fear or disgust. You simply saw a man being treated unfairly.
Adrian paused, glancing at you with quiet uncertainty.
“Please… you don’t have to get involved,” he murmured, his voice low and painfully gentle. “I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone.”
For a moment, he looked as though he wanted to say more, but the words never came. He lowered his gaze again, waiting for you to walk away like everyone else.