1. Follower

                                    

                                          
"You ready to follow Captain America into the jaws of death?" 
                          
"Hell no. That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight. I'm following him." 
———
                          
My narrowed gaze followed the people who walked by, studying one for a mere second before moving on to another. I spend most of my waking hours doing this. Just watching. People-watching, I suppose. Like how people just stare blankly at birds while they peck at seeds on the ground. There was no reason to do it, they just did. Was it fascinating? Maybe. I wouldn't know. I don't watch birds. 
                          
I noticed that some people gave me strange looks when they passed by. Hateful glares, awkward stares, and everything in between. It was like I was a disgusting bug on the sidewalk that they were scrutinizing and based on the look in their eyes, they wanted to step on me. I no longer felt safe here. I wanted to leave. My head spun a little when I stood up in a hurry. Dizzy spell. Quick wave of nausea. Then I was off down the sidewalk. 
                          
I don't know where I'm going, I have nowhere to go. There's nothing to follow except the people walking past and the honking cars in the street. 
                          
It's too loud. 
                          
I don't know where I'm going. I feel like I'm being suffocated by the hordes of people around me. Their mingling voices, thick winter coats, and unforgiving stares threatened to drag me down. Swallow me whole. I needed to get out of there. 
                          
I found refuge in a coffee shop on the corner. Didn't bother reading the name. When I stepped inside, I was immediately greeted by a flurry of warm and inviting scents. I felt my anxiety easing up. Something about this place was... calming. Maybe it was the heavenly smell of baked cookies. Or the bitter but rich scent of freshly ground coffee beans. 
                          
Either way, I felt at peace here. 
                          
I tucked myself away in a corner, where a small leather chair and side table were, and just sat and watched. I looked out the front window for a little while, watching people go by, before glancing over at the counter where a woman was working. Her hair was pulled up into a messy bun and she wore a pair of dark-rimmed glasses. I don't think she noticed me coming in. 
                          
After a few minutes of silence, I felt the need to cough. My throat itched, begging for me to cough, but I refused to break the silence. I held it at bay for at least five minutes before I just exploded outwards into a rough coughing fit. It sounded like I was starting to get a cold. My scruffy cheeks turned a little red out of embarrassment when I noticed the woman staring at me and I shrunk down further in the chair, wishing I could just disappear. 
                          
"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't see you come in! Can I get you anything?" She asked, a cheerful smile on her face as she leaned over the counter. 
                          
I stayed quiet, not making eye contact. I kept my shoulders hunched forwards and my gaze straight ahead, my mind going into shutdown mode. I didn't notice her walking over until she was suddenly standing right next to me. 
                          
"Sir—" 
                          
I tensed, my bionic arm instinctively gripping the arm of the chair. It tore the leather clean off, scattering stuffing everywhere. I froze, unsure of what to do. I defaulted to the fight or flight mindset and chose flight, immediately getting up from the chair. "S-Sorry..." I quietly muttered, before sprinting out of the shop. I shoved past people, ignoring the curses they flung at me. I needed to get away. My throat burned and my lungs strained with each breath of frigid air, but I kept running.