The Chosen | Ailana's Journal — 2025-12-31 (Patreon)

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Chapter 21: COFFEE COMFORT by Hannah Madison

After today, I swear I’m going to stop going to coffee shops. Okay, that’s not true—but I had another coffee shop moment today.

It’s the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, and we’re having a chill party tonight, but I thought I’d go down the block and get some coffee.

I was on my way out when a girl caught my eye. She was sitting alone staring at a mug, sort of teary-eyed. I scanned the room and it was clear that she was alone.

I approached. “Sorry… are you okay?”

She looked up. “I’m fine.”

“You’re sort of crying,” I said.

She forced a smile. “I’m sort of fine, though. I got on the wrong train, so I got off. I decided to reboot and get some coffee.”

"Sorry if I’m butting in… but missing the train would make me mad, not sad…"

She smiled. “Okay, I’m not sad for missing the train. I’m sad because my current wishes fail to reasonably align with expectations.”

I doubt she thought I’d understand, but I did. “So, what you want doesn’t fit what makes sense.”

She smiled. “It’s crazy. Wanna be a sounding board?”

“Sure…” She motioned for me to sit and I did.

“I’m in town for a symposium that ended yesterday. I met a guy who lives here. A doctor who understands my work. We had lunch. Then dinner. We really hit it off, and I… we… wanted to have dinner tonight. I’m not trying to pay $450 a night at the hotel I stayed in for the symposium, so I thought I’d take the train out to Queens for something more affordable.”

She paused, so I said, “But wrong train. Hello Brooklyn.”

“I mean, we really hit it off. But I’m living just outside of San Francisco right now.”

“Not to judge,” I said, “but… tears and all… How well could you have hit it off in one day?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “That’s the issue. And it’s just not reasonable to stay in a hotel long enough to find out.”

“Why not?”

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She looked at me like I had cracked some secret code, thoughtful, and quiet, then she finally said. “I don’t have a job. I’m staying with my parents and need to get my resumé updated and out. Who knows where I’ll end up?”

“And he’s here?”

“Yeah. He lives in Queens.”

“He’s a doctor?”

She nodded. “M.D. kind. He works for the CDC. But, I can’t afford more than a night or two… three tops… He wants me to go to a New Year’s Eve party with him at his church… Like, how cool is that?”

“Sounds like a really nice man.”

She nodded.

I offered my interpretation. “So, you’d stay if you had the money?”

She froze and stared off into the distance. A tear fully formed and she wiped it away.

Then she looked at me. “Would you? Random girl in coffee shop… How many nights would you put on your credit card to answer a ‘what if?’ question?”

“What if what?” I said.

“What if this is the guy… What if we’re not supposed to be ships passing in the night? What if he’s the one?”

So, that’s when I knew exactly what she was feeling, and that’s when I started to tear up. Obviously she noticed.

I sipped from my to-go cup, swallowed, then said, “Well, what’s your credit limit? Do you want to go back to San Francisco and wonder if he was the one? Or do you want to go into debt and find out?”

The Storylines are the heart of Ailana Geven Imagines, and they are found in the Collections section of the site.

Support AGI with:• one-time contribution through TipTopJar.• one-time contribution through Throne.• Patreon Membership.

All characters in this story are fictional characters, their images generated with AI for AGI Stories. They do not represent any real person, nor is their appearance based on any real human.

Chapter 22: NEW YEARS EVE by Devon Collier

Okay, I hope you read Hannah’s post about the Christmas Eve party, or else this one is going to feel like it came out of nowhere. And as far as my thinking has been, it sort of did.

Addison had decorated the common area for Christmas and had put mistletoe on the wall sort of not obviously. At one point, Emma accidentally stood under it, and that set Addison into motion. She kissed Emma, made Noah kiss Emma, then she kissed Noah, then she and Jacob kissed.

Later, the folks beside me left their seats, and Shay sat down. After a minute, she asked if I’d like her to stand under the mistletoe so I could kiss her.

Well, yeah… But, I thought she was just wanting to take part in the moment. We get along great. I really like her texting me and when we’ve had a chance to talk, it’s been fun. She seems to relax with me and that makes me relax. But, as far as anything else, I figured—not a chance.

So tonight is the New Year’s Eve party. Shay comes, again with Eric and Tia. It didn’t take long before she was sitting beside me again. We’ve texted all week since Christmas, so we didn’t have a lot of catching up to do, but we repeated things we’d already talked about.

When we’d covered everything, she said, “So how do you like tonight’s party?”

“It’s relaxing. Nice snacks…”

“Yeah…” she sort of sighed. “I wish the mistletoe was still up.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’d stand under it again so you’d kiss me like Christmas.”

Okay, so my brain went into hyper-speed. The Christmas kiss seemed to me like she wanted to do what everyone else was doing. Tonight, there was no playful kissing going on. No kissing at all, really. So what was she saying?

I couldn’t think of anything to say that made sense, but I said. “Yeah, I understand.”

I’m not sure I did, though.

Then she said, “Devon, you know I’m weird about social things. I don’t know how to go about it, but I’d like to hold your hand. Or you could put your arm around me. I don’t know… what do you think?”

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“I… think I’d like to hold your hand. Or the other.”

I took her hand and held it and she seemed to really relax then. “I’d like it if we could spend time with each other besides at parties.”

I squeezed her hand. “I…”

How do you tell a girl you think she’s out of your league? How do you say that you know you’re not good enough?

Not that I think badly about myself. Not at all. But as they say, oil and vinegar don’t mix.

And to say no? I’d be lying to myself to say I wouldn’t love hanging out with her. And hurting her would be the last thing I’d want to do. Like I said, I wish she was just a regular girl working for a non-profit company. But she not. She David Ryder's daughter…

“Shay,” I finally said, “I really like you and like all the time we’ve talked and texted. I’m not sure, but I think you’re saying you’d like to go on dates?”

“Yes,” she said. “Could we?”

I squeezed her hand again. “Let’s… let’s get through tonight, then if you still think this is something you want to do, let’s have lunch somewhere we can really talk. I’m… not from your world, Shay. I don’t know if… I…”

“Devon,” she squeezed my hand back. “Most of the time, I don’t think I’m from my world either. Tomorrow? Can we talk tomorrow?”

“Of course we can.”

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