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Error 450 : Wrong Number

Summary:

"Well… you are not wrong".
"That means I’m right, right?"
"Name’s Cassian, by the way".
"Jyn. And I’m still right."

Jyn ends up texting with an handsome stranger who miswrote someone elses number.
Cassian ends up texting with a pleasant stranger who can't cook anything edible.
Jyn really needs help, Cassian really loves to cook.

Notes:

First of all thank you random reader for opening this story. Please note that english is not my native language and there might be mistakes in this story, if you see any you are more than welcome to tell me, and I will correct them.
In my headcanon, well, Cassian is a really good chef, cooking is his only hobby, which might be a bit sad, but hey. He is Cassian, not exactly the most expansive of all people.
I might (and probably will) write a sequel to this story where it will be explained better everything the characters do for a living and so on.
This is supposed to take place somewhere in the United States, I really wanted to set it in Europe (as I know it better) but I didn't want to lose or justify Diego Luna adorable accent in any way. So being they closer to Mexico, USA were my first choice (as it's the only country in America I've visited in my life).

Scritta per il Cow-T di MaridiChallenge, prompt Sereno.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

 

Error 450 : Wrong Number

 

 

It started with a stupid mistake.

He just wanted to text the guy from the patisserie who had promised him the recipe for the cheesecake he intended to bring to the office party. Of course he had written down the number so fast that in the end he couldn’t even recognise his own calligraphy - not the first time it happened. Still, he was sure about it when he sent the message, but the answer he received was not what he expected.

 

 

From:??
Hi Jab, this is my number, if you could send me the cheesecake recipe I’d be grateful, man.

From: Jabba
The only cheesecake I ever did, I put in the oven instead of the fridge.
Not my brightest moment.
Who are you, by the way?

From: ??
This is me and I guess you are not Jabba.

From: NotJabba
Not Jabba, definitely not the guy.
Actually, not even a guy.
To be fair, starting a message with ‘this is me’ might be a bit vague.

From: ??
Sorry to have bothered you, this won’t happen again.

From: NotJabba
 Actually, wait, you seem like someone who can cook, could you help me?

From: ??
 Considering you put a cheesecake in the oven you definitely can’t.
What seems to be the problem?

From: NotJabba
My spaghetti look like dead worms, probably taste the same too.
Not sure, never tasted dead worms before.

From: ??
You are probably just overcooking it.
You have to boil the water first, salt it, and then you can put in the pasta.
And please, don’t be a savage and look at the time written on the box.
Also the sauce must be cooked in another pot.
Drain the pasta and mix them together.
And ffs don’t use ketchup as a sauce.

From: NotJabba

From: ??
How are you still alive? Can you even cook anything edible?!

From: Not Jabba
Noodles?

From: ??
I said cook. You know what? Just order something.

From: NotJabba
 That’s not a nice thing to say to someone, not to a lady, not to anyone.

From: ??
Yes, probably.
Except I don’t care.
JUST. ORDER. OUT.

From: NotJabba
Can’t, have guests for dinner.

From: ??
Well I’m sorry.
Don’t fuck up.

From: NotJabba
Rude. Again.

 

That was how it started. Except it didn’t stop there as it normally would have. It was as an unspeakable force was pushing them toward each other, inviting the both of them to look with the corner of the eye at that unusual conversation, willing to continue, to say something, even when there was nothing to say.

This unnamed girl who was completely incapable at life – maybe not in every aspect of it, but at cooking she was for sure – had an unspoken charm, a way of answering his messages that captured his attention. He didn’t even know her name, but he was curious and, although he would have never admitted it, he was lonely. He didn’t have friends, just colleagues and acquaintances. So, the next day he wrote her again.

 

 

From:??
Were the worms edible or not?

From: NotJabba
No one has died during the night.
Unfortunately.

From: ??
Is that a threat?

From: NotJabba
Not you, I don’t even know you, dude.

From: ??
How do you even know that I am a dude?

From: NotJabba
Well, no thanks to you introducing yourself, that’s for sure.
Your propic is your beard.
So unless you are Conchita Wurst I think you might be a dude.

From:??
Well… you are not wrong.

From: NotJabba
That means I’m right, right?

From: ??
Name’s Cassian, by the way.

From: NotJabba
Jyn.
And I’m still right.

 

She was, but he wasn’t going to admit it. Cassian was a stubborn man, somehow an antisocial one. He knew how to behave with people, he had learnt how to communicate, to get along, but he had never learned to like them.

In his job communication was important, but not essential. Unfortunately, he couldn’t say the same for human interaction. He knew people that were prone to like him, some actually cared about him, people that were involved in the same line of work as he was, but most of the others tended to ignore him.

This Jyn girl was something new and interesting, but mostly she was a distraction. Cassian wasn’t very good at relaxing. He wasn’t that sort of men who went out for a drink or to party, not the one who liked to join his co-workers in random recreational activities. He appreciated the small things life offered him: food, wine, an evening in front of the television isolating himself from the world, sitting in his armchair in his small loft with a new book in his hands. But that was it, nothing more than what he needed.

He didn’t really know where this stranger fit into his life, but he found it pleasant to share small useless information with someone who didn’t know shit about him. He also found pleasant the light, and sometimes silly, stuff that she had started to tell him every now and then. It was mostly her the one who started their conversations and the main topic was usually food.

Jyn couldn’t cook for the love of God. She had told him that once she had used the juice in the bottle of olives as it was the same thing as olive oil, her frying pan (and her hand) were not happy about it. Another time she had tried to use a Moka someone had given her to make coffee, she hadn’t add the water. It was a complete and utter disaster and he sometimes found himself wondering how she was still alive.

 

 

From: Jyn
Do you, by chance, happen to have any knowledge on legal matters?

From: Cassian
Maybe a bit.
The fuck did you do?

From: Jyn
Punched a guy in the face.
I was in the right, tho

From: Cassian
Sure you were.
Is like ‘trouble’ your middle name?

From: Jyn
It’s 2017 who the hell has a middle name?

From: Cassian
Well, I do
Is he pressing charges?

From: Jyn
Sure hope not as he was touching my butt without my permission

From: Cassian
Did you break his nose?

From: Jyn
No, of course not!

Maybe?

Yes.

From: Cassian
Good.

From: Jyn
Good.
Not telling me your middle name?

From: Cassian
I thought you wanted help with legal matters?

From: Jyn
Still do, but this middle name thing sounds like something I could mock you about.

From: Cassian
Rude
What is it that you wanted?

From: Jyn
You still working?
Nothing, it was nothing.
You know what? I’ll ask someone else.
It’s not like I don’t have friends

 

He was indeed busy at work. He was busy with a lot of things, and Jyn was not one of them. As much as her presence was a refreshing new addendum to his life he wasn’t emotionally invested enough to care about her legal problems. Not that he was emotionally invested about anything.

The only person he cared about with a genuine and affectionate interest were his boss and his daughter, the only two people he ever knew who didn’t discriminate nor judge, the only two people who ever accepted him as part of their family. Sort of.

“Are you daydreaming again, Andor?”

“Shut up, Dameron. Wasn’t today your free day?”

“Indeed, but I forgot here something I had to bring to Shara. Just passing by, get back to whatever you were doing”.

“Actually, I was about to go out, there’s something we need to check for that building block case Bail is working on”.

“Got time for a coffee?”

“I’m on the clock, Kes. Some of us do work today”.

“Don’t be an ass, let’s go”.

The café was a small place on the corner of a side street named Rogue One, just a few minutes from the office. It was tidy and clean, and it smelled like roasted beans and hot pastries. He loved the place.

The owner was a shy guy with long messy black hair and a tense smile, his name was Bodhi and his specialty were sweet pies. The intense consistence on the pastry and the way he was able to mix apple with cinnamon by combining the flavours in a perfect way was something that Cassian both envied and admired, and it was one of the reason that place was his favourite.

“Come on, Cassian, you promised you would”.

“I know what I said, Kes, but not this week, I can’t make it”.

“Dude, I have nothing against you being a loner, but really if you don’t want come over for dinner with me and Shara, at least accept Leia’s invite”.

“Not. In. A. Thousand. Years”.

“Dude-“

“Don’t. Don’t ‘Dude’ me. I’m not going out with her and Solo for a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s friends”.

“I don’t really know which way you swing, bro, and to be honest I couldn’t care less, but trust me when I say you need some fresh air”.

“I have enough air to breath, Kes. What more do I need it for?”

“Live, Cassian. For living your goddamn life. Start caring about something for once”.

That was not what he wanted to hear. The pie felt too heavy, like it was stuck in his throat, and the bad mood he was feeling accompanied him all day long. Kes’s words kept echoing in his mind, and he wasn’t completely able to shrug away the annoying sensation that he was, somehow right.

He was never good at living. He was more of a struggler and a pit of self-deprecation, but still he liked himself, he liked his life. Even those times when he couldn’t decide if the things he was doing were actually just or right.

 

 

From: Cassian
Do I look like an asshole?

From: Jyn
Hard to say.
Never met ya.

From: Cassian
True. But do I sound like one?

From: Jyn
Yes.
Sometimes.

From: Cassian
I think I hate you

From: Jyn
Like now.

From: Cassian
Got it.
Sorry.
How was your day?

 It took longer than usual for her to answer.

 

 

From: Jyn
You apologized and asked me about my day in the same message.
Are you all right?

From: Cassian
Don’t be rude. I’m a gentle soul.

From: Jyn
No, you are not.
Is everything ok?

From: Cassian
Just a terrible day at work.
How was yours?

From: Jyn
Apart from the 30 days eviction notice with no cause?
Wonderful.
Life aced.

From: Cassian
Wait, you are not talking about the Coruscant building block in the city centre, are you?

From: Jyn

I’ve been talking to you for weeks now.
You are not a stalker, are you? Please tell me you are not.

From: Cassian
I’m not a stalker

From: Jyn
That’s exactly what a stalker would say.
Rude AND creepy.

From: Cassian
Okay. I’m done for today.
Goodnight.

From: Jyn
Cassian?
Come on, I was just kidding.
I know you are not a stalker.
I mean, I don’t know you, but I have this feeling.
Cassian?
ASSHOLE.

 

He turned off the phone before Jyn explanation could reach him. The documents of his last job were scattered on the kitchen table in a messy pile of papers, covered with bread crumbs. He should have cleaned, but he lacked both the time and the strength. He sat on the uncomfortable chair, repeating himself he had to change it, and started rummaging through the papers until he found the one he was looking for.

The list of tenants of the Coruscan buildings was longer than he expected it would be, but he had nothing better to do – except maybe sleep, but he was used to sleeping less than his body would have wanted him to. It took him a couple of minutes to find her, but there she was: Jyn Erso. 22 years old. Student and part time worker. There was no picture, but somehow he knew she was pretty.

 

 

Jyn Erso was pissed.

She was pissed with her friends, she was pissed with her landlord, she was pissed with her step brother, but most of all she was pissed with Cassian. The most annoying thing was that she didn’t know him, she couldn’t look up where he lived or look him up on the internet as she didn’t know his surname, and she really, really wanted to find him and start shouting right in his face. Mostly the reason was that she felt guilty, she was afraid that he actually got offended by what she had said; of course after a while she was struck with the realization that she had nothing to feel guilty about and she started to get pissed.

“That fucker, he turned off his phone” she muttered, while slamming the kitchen door.

She was late for work and she had yet to pack all her stuff and start moving the boxes. His brother had been really understanding and he was letting her use his warehouse as a storage room for her things before she found somewhere else to go. Well, he wasn’t really her brother, he was more like the guy her father almost adopted when he was fifteen and grow up with her. Someone who kept calling her to check if she was eating properly, if she was studying, who helped with her rent and taxes and shit. So, in other words: a brother.

“You are late,” Bodhi smiled, there was no anger in his voice, as usual he was just stating the facts and nothing more.

“I got pissed with someone”.

“Please, tell me you didn’t break his nose. Not again”.

“Not this one, not this time”.

“Thank the spirits. Table seven is waiting for you to take their order, chop-chop”.

“Don’t chop-chop me”.

“Just go, please,” his was almost a plead.

She sighed. He was not wrong, she was late and the people at the table were waiting. She moved fast, feeling at ease in the small café; it was crowded as ever and loud and noisy, but the rhythmic clatter of the dishes and the smell of coffee and cinnamon made her feel at home. It was the same as when she was a kid, sitting on her father lap, waiting for Lyra to get the pie out of the oven; oh, her mother was an awesome cook. There was nothing she couldn’t do. She missed her more than ever.

“What can I bring you?”

“Apple pie for me, Coke for the lady”.

“The ‘lady’ can order for herself and she wants a Martini”.

Jyn smiled at the girl, appreciating more than ever her retort; she looked like someone she could get along with. Not that it mattered. She nodded, not giving them a second glare and moved towards the counter.

“Leia this is important, please. I’ve never asked you anything before, just do this for me” she heard the man talking to the girl, he had a heavy Mexican accent, but his voice had a soft note in it despite the rudeness of expression.

“Why don’t you ask him yourself? You are like a son to him, you know that”.

“I don’t…”

“If you are going to say that’s inappropriate because he is your boss I swear I’ll punch your sorry ass in the face and I will break your nose. Again”.

“You never broke my nose before, Leia”.

“But I could have” she smiled faintly, while thanking Jyn for bringing them their order “You are coming with me right after this. We are going home”.

The man snorted and groaned, and Jyn had to restrain herself from laughing because the scorn in his voice was so tangible she could almost touch it. She felt a bit better.

Bodhi reclaimed her attention with a movement of his arm, pointing towards a new couple that had just entered the café, she nodded and welcomed the new clients. Maybe that day wasn’t a complete disaster. The radio started a music program and she smiled, the first notes of one of her favourite songs of the moment filled the room and she found herself humming the words while taking away the plates. The guy with a Mexican accent smiled faintly when he noticed but he kept talking to his friend. Jyn didn’t even look at him, she took the bill money and brought it to Bodhi, while the couple stood and move towards the exit.

“Cassian, wait up,” the girl cried, she run out the door, following his companion, apparently not interested in following her to her house.

Jyn turned around in a rapid movement, rotating her head with unexpected force, all the plates in her hands tingled dangerously threatening to fall; she didn’t let them slip. The door had already closed behind the girl and for a long moment she just kept staring at it, incredulous. She put the plates down and run to the entrance, the road was dark and damp, lightened by the soft glare of street lamps. She thought she might have heard what she wanted to hear, a trick of her stressed mind, nothing more.

She got back inside. Her heart was still pounding.

 

 

From: Cassian
I’m sorry, battery was dead.
Also got shit to do.
Like a lot of shit.

She didn’t reply.

 

From: Cassian
Are you mad?
Come on I said I was sorry already.

 

Jyn watched the phone buzzing on her empty kitchen table, one of the few things she hadn’t pack yet. She knew it was him, but she decided she wasn’t interested. After all she didn’t even know him and the last time she had heard from him was on Friday evening, while now it was noon, and it was Sunday. He could have at least told her he was still alive. Asshole.

 

 

From: Cassian
I’m not sure why you are mad, but I’m really, really sorry.
I only know about the building because I work at the ‘M&O Rebels for Justice’, you know it?
The lawyer firm that does a lot of pro bono shit?
They are working on your apartment block case.
I’m the guy who digs the informations.

From: Jyn
Like a spy?

From: Cassian
Sort of, even if I try to keep it legal

From: Jyn
So like a stalker spy?

From: Cassian
I said ‘legal’.

From: Jyn
You said ‘try’.

From: Cassian
Are you still mad?

From: Jyn
Not sure.
Wanna hear a joke?

From: Cassian
Only if it’s bad.

From: Jyn
Ok.
So, Stephen Hawking walks into a bar…
Just kidding.

From: Cassian
You are terrible.
I shouldn’t be laughing.

From: Jyn
Yes, you should be.
Because you are just as terrible as I am

 

She chuckled, looking at the screen. Maybe, just maybe, she could have asked him… but then, again, she wasn’t sure that she really wanted to know if the guy in his brother’s café was really him. And of course it was because she was afraid of meeting him, of seeing him and realize that he was completely different from the image she had built up in her mind.

“Jyn Erso, you are an asshole,” she muttered, while searching for something edible in the fridge.

It was empty, except for some rotten eggs, a couple of beers and a box of milk. She sent him a picture, knowing he was the one who enjoyed the most her failures as a chef. He had tried to teach her some basic stuff, and she had proved to be a fast learner. The problem with Jyn wasn’t her denseness or her carelessness, nor she didn’t observe the details. The problem was much more simple: she just didn’t care. Cooking was not her priority: it wasn’t fun, it wasn’t satisfying nor entertaining, it was just boring, and, worse than everything else, it was something she was obliged to do. And “must do” had always been a forbidden and much hated word in Jyn’s vocabulary.

Yet this lack in her skills appeared to be greatly amusing for Cassian, who had laugh numerous times at her vain attempt to cook something edible. It was a sort of inside joke between them, it was her way to tell him: “Okay, it’s all right, I forgive you for your assholery as sometimes I am a mess too”.

 

 

From: Cassian
You are a disaster

 

She smiled, again, waiting for something more. A suggestion, a recipe, a hint on what and where to order a take away, but he seemed to be too busy writing, erasing and retyping the text.

 

 

From: Cassian
Wanna date?

 

Her heart started pounding faster than it should have. Jyn almost dropped the phone.

 

 

From: Jyn
Are you fucking kidding me?

From: Cassian
Well, no.
I was quite serious.
But it’s ok if you are not comfortable with it.

From: Jyn
Okay.

From: Cassian
Really?

From: Jyn
Yes, let’s do it. Where?

From: Cassian
Do you know the Rogue One?

From: Jyn

Is this a joke?

From: Cassian
For fuck’s sake, Jyn.
I’m asking you out.
On a date!

From: Jyn
I work there.
At the Rogue One

From: Cassian
I didn’t know.

From: Jyn
Oh, wait…
So it was really you!
I thought that that girl calling your name was just me imagining things.

From: Cassian
What?
We met?

From: Jyn
The other night, when you were acting all prima donna and turned off the phone.
You were there with a girl, you order her a Coke, but she wanted a Martini.

From: Cassian

You were the waitress, weren’t you?
The one who was singing along with the radio!

From: Jyn
I wasn’t singing!

From: Cassian
Yes, you were.
It was adorable.
There’s a diner not far from that place, it has yellow tables outside and at noon the sun shines over the place.
It’s nice and today it’s sunny and pleasant.
If you still want to date.

From: Jyn
I can be there in 20.

From: Cassian
I’ll be waiting, then.

 

The sun was hot, at least for April, she didn’t even take a coat. Jyn run out of her small apartment, closed the door while still struggling with one of her stupid laced shoes. She was excited and curious and scared, and this mix of different sensations was the best thing she had felt in a while. It was happiness, and it was an emotion that she had almost forgot. She suddenly realized how she had been losing time for too long, like she was waiting for something to happen. And, well, now it was something, and it was happening. She laughed, right in the middle of the apartment building corridor, her laugh echoed though the walls and reverberated in the open, outside.

I’m going to see him, she thought, he is real.

She stopped a taxi with a gesture of her hand and hurried inside, the driver smiled at her looking at the happy expression on her face – it was such a pleasure to have clients as young and beautiful and just grateful to be alive. There was no traffic and it took less than she had expected to arrive at the place. It was so yellow and bright that for a brief instant Jyn regretted she got out so fast she didn’t bring her sunglasses. Not that it mattered in that moment.

The man was standing next to the very yellow tables, dressed in a simple black suit. His beard was as wild as his hair, tidy and dark. He was smiling. A soft, crooked smile she almost immediately liked.

“I knew that you were beautiful,” he said.

“I knew you were a bit of a stalker,” she laughed.

He offered her his hand, she accepted.

“I’m Cassian Andor”.

“Jyn Erso”.

He didn’t say he knew, although it was the truth, but he kept smiling. His fingers interlaced Jyn’s. She stood still for a second, then squeezed back, gently.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Jyn”.

“I was about to say the same thing, Cassian”.

 

 

Notes:

Here the aesthetic for the story (sorry I'm aesthetic trash)
http://alexielmihawk.tumblr.com/post/156728832594/well-you-are-not-wrong-that-means-im-right

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