Synth: Chapter 1

Sometimes, two people, from opposite ends of the Earth, from drastically different lives, find themselves in the same place at the same time. There’s something that led them there. Maybe it was a niggle within them, an intuitive pull that made no sense. Or if you were Klara Kraljev, it was a need for a cosy little nook in a cafe in Copenhagen where she could read to the percussion of baristas making coffees, the scent of the fresh brews mixed with toasted sandwiches-to-go, the sight of locals coming and going. She adored observing people from behind her latest read. Their clothes, their mannerisms, their usual orders; whether they greeted the barista with a grumble, whilst on their phone, or with a boisterous hello followed by a rundown of their last twenty-four hours. Some people observe, and then forget about what they saw. Klara observed, and used what she saw as inspiration for characters in her own novels. Perhaps it was the way someone did their hair one day, or it was the conversation they had with their friend as they waited for their order to be ready, or it was the ideas these real-life characters prompted in Klara’s mind when they walked out the door and into the rest of their day. She loved to guess where they would go, what they would do, the sort of people they would meet on their travels. It baffled her that there were people who didn’t do the same, who didn’t constantly have plots, ideas, conversations between characters in her head, or spur of the moment ideas at 1am for a new novel idea. What went on in their brains instead?

-

In the front corner of the cafe sat a character she had noticed in recent weeks. They often shared pleasantries from across the room, acknowledging smiles that they saw each other without ever exchanging a word. She usually had her nose stuck in a book, glancing up at intervals sparked by cold breezes, whistling coffee machines or from nudges within her to spot the source of some new character inspiration. What she did observe from this character was that his silver Macbook, whilst he carried it in a black travel pouch, didn’t have any protective casing. It was a stark reminder that not everyone was as clumsy as she was. She needed what she affectionately called ‘tradie-level protection’ for all her devices. She was prone to dropping and spilling, especially when she tried even harder not to drop or spill something. It was like wearing black clothes. Others say wearing black was great because stains wouldn’t show as easily. It was quite the contrary for Klara. Her white clothes? Pristine. Clean. As though they had just been bought. Her black clothes? Well, they looked like she had just tumbled through a kindergarten during fingerpainting hours, proceeding to attract all the dust from the tightest corners of the room and then rolling through the mud patch outside.

-

‘Excuse me?’

Klara looked up from her book. A girl with a yellow Kånken backpack, long blonde hair and a striped beige t-shirt stood tentatively in front of her. Her fingers tapped against her lime green iPhone case.

‘Hey!’ Klara responded, in an octave higher than intended.

‘Are you Klara Kraljev?’

‘Indeed, I am.’

The girl turned to her three giggly friends hanging by the cafe’s display stands. Each had a similar styled backpack to her, their hair done up in whatever the latest high school hair trend was on social media. They shuffled over, avoiding other cafe patrons collecting their orders.

‘We’re really, really huge fans of you. We watch your Youtube channel all the time and Marie’s even got your book in her bag. We didn’t know you were in here. I promise. We’re on a study break and I was hungry and…’

Klara burst out laughing and stood up from her seat. She rested her knee against it and gestured the girls closer. ‘Oh mate, you sound like me with my friends. I was always the hungry one and the one who would go up to whichever celebrity they saw too.’

‘Really?’ the blonde girl, who also mentioned her name was Sofie, asked, leaning her hand against the railing that separated the seated area and the waiting area.

‘Oh yeah. When you grow up in Melbourne, there’s always someone or something. I always saw people as people, so it was never a big deal to me.’

The girl’s eyes widened and pointed to her. ‘I’m the same! My dad always told me that.’

‘Mine too!’

In the usual fashion, the girls asked for Klara’s autograph and a photo, before thanking her profusely and continuing on their way- with their much-needed study snacks in tow.

-

Klara sat back down, cleared her throat and proceeded to continue reading her book. Barely a paragraph in, she sensed someone hovering in front of her. She counted to three before she glanced up again. This time, it was a man, around 6 feet tall, wearing a linen cream blazer, striped baby blue and white button-up shirt and white pants. His hands were tucked into his pockets, and a permanent smirk sat on his face.

‘I hear you’re a bit of an enigma around here.’

‘How’s that?’

‘I saw those girls before. It’s promising to see that the younger generations have real female role models. You know, the ones who don’t make their money by posting photos in lingerie and selling those detox teas.’

Klara placed her book down, ensuring the bookmark was tucked in tightly towards the binding. She warmed her hands up beneath her thighs and smiled up at him. ‘Well, I do my best.’

‘That’s all anyone can really do, can’t they?’ he leaned forward onto the chair opposite her, resting his hands against the wicker.

Klara knew the sort. She had dealt with them before. She dated one before. One of the best things she ever did was to dump him. She couldn’t stand them, yet somehow the more disinterested she acted, the more they thought she was inviting them into her inner sphere. ‘Of course.’

The character in the corner watched the scene from behind his laptop. The moment the linen blazer walked into the cafe, he knew that the place wasn’t his usual stop. He didn’t belong in the area. He needed something more upmarket, not one with tasteful nostalgic paraphernalia of the greatest music, film and pop-culture icons in history. It was the role model comment that forced him to rest his chin on his palm and cover his lips with his knuckles. Just as well for the ambient music, otherwise they would have heard his stifled chortles too. He didn’t envy the girl in the red summer dress and combat boots, but she was handling herself well. With the gaggle of girls from before, he figured she was used to all sorts of colourful figures approaching her.

Klara locked eyes with the character in the front corner of the cafe, the one she had shared acknowledging smiles with. She took a deep breath and calmly exhaled, turning back to the man in front of her, who had eventually introduced himself as Carl-the-Tech-Entrepreneur, and hoped he would wrap up his self-absorbed spiel sooner rather than later.

‘Your accent is very beautiful, I must say. Australian accents are my favourite. Margot Robbie, Isla Fisher, Kylie Minogue…’

‘Thank-you.’

‘Klara?’

Her subtle-yet-no-so-subtle call for help worked.

‘Oh my God! Hey!’ she greeted, her voice going in that octave higher than she intended to.

‘I’m so sorry I’m late. Pongo didn’t let me leave the house until I played eighty rounds of tug-of-war with him. You know what he’s like.’

Klara laughed, standing up and hugging him. ‘You’re forgiven. My little puppy is always priority number one.’

‘Puppy? He’s ready to be a security dog now with the size he is.’

‘Pongo? A security dog?’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘Don’t insult the poor thing.’

Carl-the-Tech-Entrepreneur puffed his chest out and cleared his throat.

‘Oh sorry, Carl. This is my good friend…’

‘Kasper. Nice to meet you.’

Carl-the-Tech-Entrepreneur nodded with a grimace.

‘I wasn’t interrupting anything, was I?’ Kasper asked.

‘No, no. I was uh...I was just leaving. Klara, it was nice to meet you. I’ll be sure to see you around.’

‘Likewise.’

Carl-the-Tech-Entrepreneur walked down the aisle and to his left, lingered around the display stand staring up at the menu, and left, thinking nobody had noticed the fact he hadn’t ordered anything.

Klara sat back down on her seat like she had just finished playing a rugby game. ‘Oh my God, that was amazing. You’re a lifesaver,’ she laughed, running her fingers through her hair.

‘You looked like you needed a bit of help. I mean, you looked like you were handling yourself quite well for what it’s worth, but you know, the look was enough.’

‘I’m impressed that you registered it. Did you want to take a seat?’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Of course. Sit, sit, sit.’

‘Do you deal with many of those sorts of guys?’ Kasper asked, placing his laptop on the table with his phone on top.

‘Unfortunately, yes. I used to date someone like that.’

‘And what happened?’

‘Realised he was like that.’

Kasper chuckled. ‘Figures.’

‘Kasper, was it?’

‘Yeah, Kasper. And you’re Klara? I did hear those other girls right?’

‘Yeah, it’s Klara. So, what brings you here? I see you all the time,’ she paused and pouted her lips. ‘That came out creepier than I expected. I apologise.’

Kasper burst out laughing. ‘No, no. I got you. I see you all the time here too. But I like this place. It’s different. It’s a nice place to get stuff done without feeling like you’re an imposter. And the music is great. What about you?’

Klara inhaled the scent of the place: the coffee, the perfume, the freshly baked pastries. ‘Me too. I like that it’s like you step into another era. I feel more me here. And I seldom get pompous tech entrepreneurs trying to chat me up.’

‘On a scale of 1 to ‘he’s-hanging-around-the corner-ready-to-break-my-kneecaps’ for ruining his chances with you, how much do you think I ruined his day by coming over?’

Klara leaned back in her seat and cackled. ‘Oh, he’s probably got his posse coming from all around Copenhagen in their Teslas ready to pick you out.’

‘Eh,’ he shrugged. ‘It’s worth it.’

‘So, tell me, what do you usually do here? I always see you on your laptop.’

‘Just work projects. The usual.’

‘What do you do for work?’

‘I’m a freelancer.’ Kasper had no idea where the answer came from, but he was glad he said it. It sounded better than what he should have said: ‘I don’t know’. ‘What about you? What do you do?’

Klara hesitated. ‘I’m a writer. You know, just blogging. That sort of thing.’ She could see the way Kasper’s eyebrow arched. ‘Alright nope, that’s a lie. I don’t know why I said that.’

‘Oh, I figured. Nobody in Copenhagen gets that much attention for being a blogger.’

She dropped her chin and then glanced up at him. ‘I am a writer, but I write books. I’m also a Youtuber and,’ she sighed. ‘An actress. I’m sorry. I hate answering that question. I always feel so...pretentious.’

His eyes widened. Klara Kraljev. The actress. ‘Holy shit, I think I just had a Hugh Grant in Notting Hill moment.’

‘I think you’re just missing me spilling the coffee all over you. No wait, you spill your coffee onto me.’

‘That was it. The worst thing is I watched that movie last week.’

‘It’s a great movie. But yeah, I just find when I do say what I do, people get weird about it. They get judgemental or awkward. Especially blokes. They either usually wrap things up pretty quick, or they start saying how hard it is to make money from what I do.’

‘I’m not like that, am I?’ he asked, leaning forward in his seat. ‘I didn’t just do an awkward face or anything?’

‘N-n-n-no. You’re all good. You’re the only one who has never flinched. Except for that minor realisation, but that was just the Notting Hill reference. Do you actually have a dog called Pongo?’

Kasper shook his head. ‘No. I lied about that one. I watched 101 Dalmatians with my niece and nephew and that was the first dog’s name that came to mind.’

‘I love that movie. I love anything Disney.’ Klara observed the man in front of her. For weeks, she had observed him from afar, hidden behind her book. Little did she know he had done the same from behind his laptop. ‘What kind of freelancing work do you do?’

He mimicked her resignation at his own lying. ‘I’m actually a...uh...well, I do a lot of media research for the broadcasting station like planning shows, online content, all that stuff. It’s a nice way of saying information checker, really. It’s not much, but it’s a stepping stone.’

Klara’s ears perked up. He was from her neck of the woods. He understood her work. So many people she met were fascinated by what she did, thinking it other-worldly, thinking it some intergalactic anomaly that very few managed to impersonate.

‘It’s really no big deal. I do plan on getting more into scriptwriting and having my own shows. I don’t know if anything will eventuate from it.’

Klara nodded sympathetically. ‘Can I ask you something?’

‘Of course.’

‘Can we not lie to each other anymore? Now that you’re you and I’m me?’

Kasper nodded. He wished for nothing more. Whatever this was. He wanted honesty. He made himself comfortable against his seat again. ‘Did you really date a guy like that?’

She slowly nodded. ‘Yeah. It was a weird 18 months. I don’t even recognise that version of me anymore.’

‘If it makes you feel any better, I dated someone like that too.’

‘Okay, now if you’re thinking I wouldn’t date someone like that, then what the hell am I meant to think of you? I could not picture you with anyone stuck-up.’

Kasper paused. He had already said more than he usually would. Her energy pulled it out of him. But she asked that they wouldn’t lie to each other anymore. ‘Yeah, for four years. He broke it off out of nowhere, but it was for the best. I learnt a lot from it.’

‘I’m so sorry. That’s awful.’

‘Then I dated this other girl after him which I realised was a rebound and not my wisest decision. But oh well, everything happens for a reason. I’ve adopted a ‘what’s meant for me will never pass me by’ way of life and I’m liking it.’

‘You’re taking the words right out of my mouth, let me say that.’ The more he spoke, the more Klara realised they had in common. Whatever this would be, even if it was a passing acquaintance, it was comforting. She found a friend in Copenhagen. Two people, in the same place on countless occasions, finally interacting in the perfect moment.

He shuffled in his seat and rearranged his phone from sitting on top of the laptop to beside it. ‘Forgive me if this is a bit too forward of me, but are you doing anything tomorrow night?’

Klara straightened her posture. She felt her cheeks blush and hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it. ‘No. Why?’

‘Did you want to maybe go out for dinner with me? And then go to a party afterwards? My friend is hosting this big thing so it’s not going to be awkward with just a small group. You like food, right?’