The Very One
The first time it happened, Patrick paused for a sec.
He knew that it was easy for a little girl to mess up someone on the telly with reality, but you couldn’t deny that it felt so good when you found you had captivated the audience.
Somehow deep inside what he felt was thrilled. He didn’t show it though.
Patrick just smiled back and said hello.
The second time Satine did so, he told her stories and raised her high in his arms.
She told him it felt like flying. And she really liked it.
Gabriel was around the next time Satine called him Mike. The father looked entertained at first, and Patrick was clever enough to stay away when he squatted down beside the little girl and talked about how to tell the difference between a TV show and real life.
Satine made a face to him when Gabriel wasn’t watching; He tittered and made a face too, behind Gabriel’s back, of course.
The morning after the Reality and Fantasy talk, Patrick was having breakfast when Gabriel walked in with his daughter. The girl ran to him and jumped up onto his lap, whispered in his ears:
“Morning, Satine. You’re staying for a few more days, huh?”
She never stopped calling him Mike, which was a surprise.
They ran into each other in some random café, Patrick with his puppy, Satine with her daddy.
It was ages later. She still called him Mike.
And she knew he remembered.
“Wow, it make me feel like being teased by the daughter of Harvey Specter.”
Said Patrick, and him and Satine were giggling together.
Gabriel seemed confused. There was a sec that he felt like an outsider of some insider joke, although he let it go.
There were always a thousand of facts that you would never know-
And this was only one of them.
It didn’t matter. It was just nothing.