I've been thinking about the story and its meaning. Going through it in my head, I decided listing the events in order to organize my thoughts. Maybe it's just a reminder to me that this character needs to feel real for me to keep writing about him. Or just something to keep me busy while I'm at this sort of roadblock. Either way, my thoughts.
The Waiter isn't the confrontational type. He'll look at the girl of his dreams from a distance, but he'll never approach her. He looks through life from a glass window, that his true dreams aren't reachable.
But where does this start? With himself and his insecurities. He's not handsome, nor strong. He's not smooth or charming. He works nights and watches the world enjoy themselves, all while serving them.
He encounters a villain that scares him. That punishes him and makes him weak. That forces him to be bold out of survival and that's what he wants more than anything, to live.
He fails, many times. He tries to do what the villain demands. He sets out to find girls for him. Timidness hurts his chances. He musters up the courage and with a little luck finds them. He finds his ticket home.
That's not a success. Because even though he does his job and keeps his life, he doesn't get respect. That is when his love gets in danger.
He finds the courage to protect her the best he can. At first he watches her, he buys time. He drinks and becomes reckless. His emotions flare. The villain tries to take advantage of her. He finds it in him to do something. He trips on a bottle and does something else. It works.
He saves the girl, but at the cost of his own life. The villain wants to kill him. The girl that never noticed him, notices. He wins her respect, her love. That saves him.
His fear awaits him outside. He's found a second wind. He's confident, he will win or lose with nobility. He leaves.
The villain cheats, he brings an army. The Waiter panics. All the confidence disappears. He's back to surviving. He tries to run. It doesn't work. He's alone and desperate.
Out of survival he uses the tools he's got. Fire. The army backs off. It's only a matter of time, but it sure is goddamn tough holding in this gasoline.
He breaks. He ingests. He falls to his knees. He gets kicked, they laugh. He's defeated by his own clumsiness. He throws up on the villains' shoes, unintentional and insulting.
The villain is angry, angrier than he was. He stands in place for a towel; the army breaks him harder. The Waiter is weak. He sees a fire, the one he started out with, the one filled with confidence. The vomit ignites.
The stream leads to the villain. His feet catch fire and he begins to dance. He falls. The army retreats to help their general. They kick the fire. They kick the villain.
Screeching tires make its way to the Waiter. A godsend. She opens the door; he gets in.
The fire is seen from the rear view mirror. The commotion is out there but not in here. Here he is safe. He's found his confidence, in her.
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