Hannah's eyes darted up from the page as the boy entered the café. Right on cue. She set her pen down on the polished mahogany table, and sat back in her chair. Watching. The boy scanned the room, pushing his long blond hair behind his ear. She knew he would do that. Then his eyes settled on her. As she predicted. Hers was the only table which had empty seats. She knew that.

"Mind if I sit here?" the exact words she anticipated. His clear American accent stood out amongst the chatter of the people, and a few turned to look at him.

She shook her head, letting her ice blonde hair fall over one side of her face. Leaning back over her work, she played along. If she did the wrong thing now, everything would be spoiled. It had to be exact. Or God knew what would happen to him. She smiled to herself at that thought. Of course God didn't know. The only one who knew was her.

"What're you doing?" behind her veil of hair, Hannah mouthed his words along with him. She looked up, pretending to be startled. "Oh, sorry, I was just curious…"

"Writing." She said, simply, gesturing with the biro towards the paper which lay in front of her.

"Writing what?" he asked, and a look of instantaneous surprise flashed across his features, just for a second. He wasn't normally so forward. His curious words surprised even himself. Hannah had to stifle a laugh. What was normal? He didn't know, but she did.

She gave him a rye smile. "A story."

"About what?" again, the burst of shock in his turquoise eyes. Why was he acting like this?

"People." She replied, leaning back once more, poking the edge of her lower lip with the end of the pen.

"Why?" she had to force herself not to speak the question simultaneously with him. She had memorised the conversation so well. But she couldn't. He would be even more confused then…

"Because it's fun." She had an urge to just stop there, and see if his new-found curiosity would establish itself further, but she knew it wouldn't, she hadn't planned it that way. A butterfly skipped in her stomach, and she inwardly prayed that she wouldn't give in to her temptations. She made herself continue, the way she knew she must. "Just imagine, you can create people, determine their characters, and dictate their lives. You can choose whether a person should live or die."

He stared at her, intrigued. "You say it like you're actually writing about real people. Creating them and killing them. Like God."

"Well, everyone was created somehow." She spoke softly, watching the reactions she knew would happen, watching the way his face moved, the way she had intended. His features moved in exactly the right way, creating exactly the expressions and impressions she had wanted. "Everything happens for a reason, but I don't believe in fate." Her icy blue eyes were cold, almost nonsensical as she stared at him, watching.

"I suppose." He shrugged, obviously feeling uncomfortable with the strange girl sitting opposite him.

"That's what writing is all about. Creating people, and defining their lives." She smiled at him. "Just imagine what you could do, with just a pen and paper…" she seemed to drift off into a daydream.

"Yeah, OK, whatever…" it was clear that the boy didn't believe her reasoning. She waited in the pause, waiting for the words which were to come, to end the conversation, still staring off into thin air, feigning dreamer. "I should be going now, see ya…" she heard the chair push back, and without looking she knew exactly what he would do, the way he would move, the way he would exit the café.

Hannah breathed a sigh of relief. It had been a first - meeting one of them. She had not known how difficult it would be, had not even known if it would work. She could have spoiled the whole story. But it had been OK, nerve-racking, but OK. It was good to see the way he moved, the way he reacted to his surroundings, the way he looked. He looked exactly as she had hoped. Hannah smiled to herself, picking up the biro and continuing the unfinished paragraph that lay on the table in front of her.

Laying down her biro on the mahogany table, Hannah waited. Suddenly a shriek of panic came from the street outside. People in the café looked up, some went to the door to see what the fuss was about. A gasp of horror came from a bald man with a laptop as he gazed out of the window. Hannah didn't need to look. She simply smiled. Just imagine what she could do with Zac…