I know your thoughts.

My talents aren't of the usual kind. I'm a decent singer, and I know how a few dances, but that isn't what sets me apart from the crowd. Actually, I don't seem to stand apart at all; I'm just an average person to most. I blend in, seemingly lost in my own world. The catch is, it's not my world I'm lost in.

It's yours.

The café is slower today than usual, but there are a decent amount of people to observe. Wrapping my hand around my mug, I inconspicuously forge a connection to the different minds around me.

The barista smiles as usual, but he's panicking about his rent. It's a week overdue, and he can't afford to get kicked out. I'll tip him extra.

A couple jokes at the table next to mine. They're both thinking about the other, big surprise, but one has an engagement ring in their coat pocket. She's planning on asking by the fountain in the town square, but she might be losing her nerve. They're cute together; I hope they work out. A small cheers to their relationship.

An old man is at the counter. He just moved here to help his daughter raise her kids. He loves his grandchildren a lot, and is going to treat them to some cookies. True kindness is a virtue, and I don't come across it very often. He should definitely get the chocolate chunk.

There's a girl in the back booth, sipping coffee with headphones on. Unsurprisingly, her thoughts are on the music: a German rock band. Her coffee is also very sweet, which reminds her of the time she broke her arm. Wait, how did she make that connection? Now I'm confused –

A weird tremor shakes the link. The girl glances up at me, glaring, and one very angry thought enters her mind before it's filled with a painful static.

I gasp and cut the connection, aware of the many eyes turned my way. I give them a weak smile and force myself to take a sip of my drink. My heart is pounding, sweat beads my brow, every nerve is jumping. I'm trying to convince myself it didn't happen, there was no way she could have been aware of what I was doing. As far as I know, I'm the only one with my ability. So why can't I stop trembling?

A minute later, the girl gets up. She heads to the counter and drops a few dollars in the tip jar, too many to be a coincidence. As she's heading out the door, she passes my table and slides a note over. Then she's gone.

I'm cold all over. Her note is short, the handwriting pressed and angry.