Cara- her name. Brown eyes, light brown hair, no one really paid her much attention. She was as ordinary as humanly possible. She wasn't strikingly gorgeous, but attractive if you took the time out to look carefully enough.

Twenty-Eight- her age. She had gotten into NYU after high school, and had attempted an arts degree. She didn't pass. Mainly because there had been a day where she met

Ben- her boyfriend. Many of her friends would consider him an ex, but she didn't. She was so totally infatuated with him that she forgot about her studies. But he couldn't take any notice of her because he was really into

Rue- her best friend. Slightly more bubbly and vivacious than Cara, but other from that the only obvious difference was Rue's eyes were a deeper blue and seemed more perky. She always hid her emotions for Ben, as, of course, she was still in her opinion, poor Cara, quiet Cara, hopeless Cara's only hope. No one even thought for a second maybe she was two-faced, as she came across so downright honest.

That's what I've been given, sitting here in Kreamy Koffees for the first time, as I look over to the dishevelled Cara sitting there drinking her Vanilla Latte by herself.

They say she's waiting.

She's been waiting there for six years. For Ben.

She's been waiting for him to come back and hug her tightly and tell her he won't ever leave her alone again.

Everyday, she buys two drinks. A Mocha Truffle for Ben, something for her. Everyday, two drinks would sit on the table.

And everyday, one would always get thrown away.

She always sits next to the large window, watching the world pass so quickly before her weary eyes. Watching other people live their lives, letting hers waste away slowly. She doesn't seem to realise that all thing have an end, that nothing lasts forever, she doesn't seem to realise she's trying to hold onto a hope that doesn't even exist.

But then one day, both chairs are empty.

No brown hair.

No coffee.

No Cara.

The same question floats restlessly around the cafe continuously throughout the day. "Has he...come?"

She had disappeared, she had gone somewhere where nobody could find her. Perhaps Ben had found her.

Perhaps she had gone to find Ben.

She haunts the shop now. Not like a ghost or anything, she's just always there. Nobody sits at her chair or her table. Her presence lingers wherever you least expect it, then all of a sudden she hits you wit the question that had gone 'round and 'round in circles in her mind every night she had been tucked tightly into he sheets, forcing her eyes shut, trying to clear her mind of the one thing that had mattered in her lifeless existence.

"Did he ever?"

A/N: I hate interrupting and saying stuff at the end of stories like these, but I just didn't want alot of weird questions in reviews about the last line. This whole story is really vague, and I just want you to make your own assumptions. They're usually the best.

Review.