Main Characters....

Mira Sen – 25, a literature student who comes to the café after midnight to write. Reserved, observant, hiding trauma from her past.

Adrian Cole – 29, a charming but mysterious man who always orders black coffee and never stays long. His motives aren’t clear.

Nina D’Souza – 40, the night-shift waitress, who knows more about the customers than she lets on.

“The Stranger” – A hooded figure who comes at irregular hours, leaving cryptic notes behind.

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🕛 AFTER MIDNIGHT

Part I – The Café of Secrets

The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the streets of the city still glistened like liquid silver beneath the glow of the streetlamps. It was nearly one in the morning, the time when most of the city surrendered to silence. But in a narrow lane tucked away from the main road, there stood a café that never closed its doors.

The sign above it read Café Serenade, though the paint was chipped and the neon lights flickered as if undecided whether to stay awake or not. Inside, the smell of roasted beans lingered heavily in the air, comforting in its warmth.

Mira Sen pushed open the door with her usual hesitation. She wasn’t afraid—it wasn’t fear that slowed her steps—but a peculiar ritual she had developed. Every time she entered, she would pause, breathe in the aroma, and remind herself that here, she was safe.

The night was her time. By day, she was just another face in the crowded university library, a literature student who quietly passed unnoticed. But after midnight, she came here with her battered leather notebook and sat at the corner table by the window. It was the only place she felt invisible yet strangely alive.

Nina D’Souza, the night-shift waitress, noticed her instantly.

“You’re late tonight,” Nina said, wiping down the counter. Her voice carried the roughness of someone who had smoked one cigarette too many in her life, yet it was oddly gentle.

“Rain slowed me down,” Mira replied, setting her notebook on the table.

Nina gave her a look that lingered a second too long, as if trying to read more than Mira wanted to reveal. But she said nothing further, only nodding before heading to the kitchen.

The café was nearly empty except for two other customers. At the far end sat a hooded figure hunched over a mug, their face hidden in shadows. And then, as always, there was him—the man in the black coat.

Mira had noticed him months ago. He came in almost every night, usually within fifteen minutes of her arrival. He never ordered anything other than a black coffee—no sugar, no cream. He never lingered after finishing it. And he always, always sat at the table across from hers, angled so he could glance at the door.

She didn’t know his name. At first, she told herself she wasn’t curious, but curiosity has a way of burrowing under the skin. Who was he? Why did he always come alone? And why did his eyes—sharp, watchful, restless—seem to carry a heaviness she recognized in herself?

Tonight, he caught her looking. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second. Mira immediately bent her head, pretending to scribble in her notebook.

“Black coffee,” Nina said, placing the man’s order on his table without asking. It had become routine.

The man murmured thanks, his voice low and gravelly.

Mira tried to focus on her writing, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, her pen drifted across the page until she realized she was sketching a pair of eyes—his eyes. She quickly shut the notebook, embarrassed by herself.

When she opened it again minutes later, there was something there that hadn’t been before.

A slip of folded paper........

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A slip of folded paper...

Her heart lurched. She hadn’t put it there. She looked around—the hooded figure was gone, their mug abandoned. Nina was busy at the counter. And the man in the black coat sat calmly sipping his coffee, as though unaware of her panic.

Hands trembling, Mira unfolded the paper.

The note was short. Written in neat, deliberate handwriting:

Not everything you write is fiction.

Mira’s blood ran cold. She looked around again, but no one paid her any attention. How had the note ended up inside her notebook? Who had left it—the hooded figure? Or… him?

Her gaze lingered on the man in the black coat. He was staring into his coffee, unreadable.

For the rest of the night, Mira couldn’t write another word.

And when she finally left the café, she had the unsettling feeling of being followed.....

Mira shoved the note into her notebook and forced herself to breathe evenly. It’s nothing. Probably a stupid prank. That’s what she wanted to believe, yet her chest felt heavy, as if the words had burrowed inside her ribs.

When she finally gathered the courage to leave, the streets were emptier than ever. Neon signs buzzed faintly, puddles mirrored the night sky, and her footsteps echoed louder than they should have. She couldn’t shake the sensation that eyes followed her. Every shadow seemed thicker, every corner darker.

She turned once, twice—nothing. Just the silence of the city after midnight.

But when she reached her small apartment and closed the door, she discovered something that made her blood freeze.

Her notebook wasn’t in her bag.

she panicked and started thinking of worst seneries possible she wanted to go out and search but she couldn’t it was too dark...she couldn’t sleep that night thinking about the note book.....

The next night, Mira returned to Café Serenade, not sure if she was brave or simply reckless. She needed that notebook. It held not only her writing but fragments of her past she could never risk anyone else seeing.

Nina greeted her with the same tired warmth. “Coffee?” she asked.

Mira nodded distractedly, scanning the tables. The hooded figure wasn’t there tonight. But the man in the black coat sat at his usual spot, sipping his usual drink.

On her table, placed neatly as though waiting for her, was her notebook.

Her throat tightened. She sat down slowly, running her hand over the leather cover. No signs it had been forced open, no torn pages—but she would know later if anything had been touched.

She glanced at the man across from her. He wasn’t looking at her, but she couldn’t shake the feeling he knew.

she didn't knew what was happening and was lost in her own thoughts....

when suddenly......

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Suddenly....

“Rough night?” Nina’s voice broke her thoughts. She set down Mira’s coffee.

“You could say that.” Mira tried to smile.

Nina leaned closer, lowering her voice. “You come here often, so I’ll tell you something. This place… it attracts people. People with pasts they can’t sleep through. I’ve seen it for years. It’s not just coffee they’re here for.”

Mira frowned. “What do you mean?”

But Nina just patted her hand and walked away.

She tried to write again, forcing herself to focus. But her thoughts swirled with questions. Who had left the note? Who had returned her notebook?

Hours passed, and customers trickled in and out. At some point, Mira realized she wasn’t the only one staring anymore. The man in the black coat’s eyes were on her.

She swallowed hard, pretending to focus on her writing. But then, quietly, he spoke.

“You shouldn’t stay out this late alone.”

Mira blinked, startled. His voice was calm, measured, but his words felt more like a warning than advice.

“I… I’m fine,” she managed. “I like the quiet.”

“Quiet can be dangerous,” he replied, his gaze steady.

Something in the way he said it made her shiver. Not a threat—more like experience.

Before she could respond, Nina appeared between them, balancing a tray. “Ignore him, darling. He says that to everyone.”

The man said nothing, only returned to his coffee. But Mira couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to him than casual small talk.

When she finally left that night, her notebook was safe in her bag. But another folded slip of paper slipped out from between its pages.

This time, the note said:

He isn’t who you think he is.

And for the first time, Mira wondered—was the man in the black coat her protector… or her threat?

But was she really scared or afraid...or maybe not....she sat there processing the moment...

she read the note again and again...until the words blurred.....

her internal voice said....He is lying to you