"Marina & the Mysterious Guy in Black"
*Told by Morvain*
{Ahem, let's not share this with marina}
I didn't plan to stay in Seaglass Bay. It's the kind of town where everyone smiles too much, waves at strangers, and drinks coconut smoothies like it's their job.
And me? I wear all black, talk to myself, and once tried to take over the world with a mind-control radio that only worked on seagulls.
So yeah. Not really beach town material.
Still, I ended up here. Hiding. Kind of. Mostly just avoiding anyone who might remember the "incident" with the town fountain and 300 rubber ducks.
*Then I Saw Her*
She was on a little stage near a juice stand, singing like it was just a normal sunny day. Marina. That's what the chalkboard said behind her. Her voice was soft and sweet, and she wore a bright orange dress that made her look like sunshine with a ukulele.
I was trying to be sneaky and cool. Walk past slowly, listen to her voice, maybe give her a mysterious nod.
Then I tripped.
Not on a crack. Not on sand.
On a plastic flamingo.
I flew through the air, arms flapping, and landed right in front of her.
People gasped.
Marina stopped singing.
I looked up at her from the ground and said, "I meant to do that."
She stared at me. Then she burst out laughing.
*The Weird Guy in Black*
After that, people in town started calling me "the vampire guy" or "Mr. Drama Cape." (I don't even wear a cape—just a very long jacket.)
I tried to act cool.
I walked in slow motion. I leaned against walls. I wore sunglasses even at night.
But every time I saw Marina, I forgot how to be mysterious.
She talked to everyone. Smiled like she knew secrets. Told jokes like,
"I sing songs for a living. And maybe I dodge bullets too. Who knows?"
Wait, what?
She said she was a traveling singer, but sometimes she disappeared for days and came back with new bruises and cool stories like, "I had to kick someone through a window because they messed with my sound system."
Was that...a joke? Or not?
I didn't know.
And I didn't care.
*Falling (Not Literally This Time)*
We kept bumping into each other. Like, a lot. I tried not to make it weird.
But I once hid behind a beach umbrella to watch her sing.
It fell.
On me.
And she just looked at me, hands on her hips, and said, "You spying on me, tall dark and clumsy?"
I said, "No, I'm protecting the sand."
She laughed again.
I wanted to hear that laugh forever.
*I'm Not a Villain*
One night, we sat by the water, feet in the cold waves. The stars were out. I looked serious and said,
"I used to want to be a villain. Like, a real one. But now I think I just want to bake cookies and hold your hand."
She blinked.
Then she smiled. A soft one this time.
She said, "Good. I was hoping you'd join my secret sidekick club. First rule: you make the tea."
I nodded. "Only if I get a cool nickname."
She leaned her head on my shoulder.
"You already have one. You're my Mystery Marshmallow."
…That's when I knew I was doomed.
Now,
We run a small coffee stand together. She sings. I wear an apron that says "Evil Plans Later. Coffee Now."
Sometimes she disappears again.
Sometimes she leaves behind a note like:
"Off to stop a bad guy. Back by dinner. Don't burn the cookies."
And every time she returns, I act surprised like I didn't miss her. But she knows.
Because even if I look like a spooky shadow man…
I'm just a softie in black.
And she's the sunshine I never knew I needed.
The Flamingo Incident – Extended Edition
Told by Morvain***
Okay, so yes. I tripped on a plastic flamingo. But let me explain.
It wasn't just any plastic flamingo. It had sunglasses. And a tiny pineapple drink glued to its wing. Someone—probably a child or a very mischievous elderly person—had placed it right in my path as I was trying to do a cool, slow walk past Marina's stage.
I had practiced the walk. In the mirror. Three times. I even tilted my sunglasses exactly 17 degrees downward for maximum mystery.
But that flamingo had other plans.
I didn't just fall—I launched. Like a bat in a tuxedo thrown by a tornado. My jacket flared, a seagull screamed above, someone dropped their smoothie in slow motion, and I landed dramatically in front of her—knee first, arm up, like I was proposing to the queen of the sun herself.
Marina blinked.
I stared up at her and said, "I meant to do that."
Then I noticed a coconut chunk stuck to my forehead.
She covered her mouth, trying not to laugh, but it was no use. She burst out giggling—bright and unfiltered, like wind chimes in a thunderstorm.
The crowd cheered. CHEERED.
Someone yelled, "Do it again!"
I wanted the sand to swallow me whole.
But then Marina knelt, plucked the coconut chunk off my head, and said, "you're okay?"
I stared. She smiled.
And that's when I realized…
I Was Doomed, Part 2
She helped me up, warm fingers brushing mine. "Name?" she asked.
I could've said anything cool. "Raven." "Nightshade." "Lord MacMystery III."
Instead, I coughed and said, "Morvain. I'm Russian"
Like, whhhaattt? Huh.
(It's not. But I figured if she could lie about kicking someone through a window, I could lie about being fancy.)
She nodded solemnly. "I'm Marina. Singer. Secret weapon enthusiast. Collector of falling men."
I blinked. "How many have fallen?"
She leaned in. "a ton and a half. You're the half."
I should've run then. I didn't.
Instead, I bought three smoothies I didn't need just to stay near her. She sang two more songs. I clapped too hard. An old lady asked if I was her boyfriend. I said yes. By mistake.
Marina didn't correct me.
After the Song, Before the Storm
Later that day, while walking past the boardwalk again, I found a small napkin wedged into my coat pocket. It had her handwriting on it:
"Nice fall. You'll fit in just fine.
P.S. You owe me a smoothie. Mango."
I stared at it for a long time.
And maybe, just maybe, I smiled.