[ WP ] Your character is an imaginary friend , but they think they 're real .

Emily sighed and stared at the stale cup of coffee on the table between them. Seated across from her was her best friend Janet with the tight ponytail pulled into an uncomfortable knot and the wire-framed glasses that made her eyes look like they were two sizes too small. She pulled at her own hair, a few shades darker than Janet's, out of sympathy to her imagined pain. 
 
 She watched Janet nervously glance around the room, knowing how much she hated going outdoors. They watched the barista's flutter around the espresso machines like angry butterflies while wisps of sweetly scented clouds floated around them. A couple in the corner were in a heated conversation about music and an older man sat reading a newspaper nearby. On the table next to him was a laptop, left behind by a young boy in dark clothing waiting for his coffee that seemed better suited for dessert than breakfast. 
 
 `` I do n't understand,'' Janet said. `` What do you mean I do n't exist?'' She clung to the purse on her lap as if it were a life preserver and pulled the mousy grey cardigan tighter around her shoulders. 
 
 `` I *imagined* you,'' Emily said. `` I created you. You ever wonder why no one talks to you? Where do you even sleep at night?'' 
 
 `` I sleep in my bed, in my house,'' Janet said. `` And people are just mean. I'm used to being ignored.'' 
 
 `` That's because that's the way I imagined you,'' Emily said. `` I needed you to be that way because that's how I was when I was a little girl. Misery loves company after all and if no one wanted to be my friend, I decided to create one.'' 
 
 `` Me,'' Janet said. 
 
 `` Exactly.'' 
 
 `` But I exist,'' Janet said. `` I'm literally sitting right here.'' 
 
 `` You do n't exist,'' Emily said, enunciating each word. `` I created you... I just do n't need you anymore. I've changed and you have to go, now.'' 
 
 `` I'm not imaginary,'' Janet screamed, pounding her fists on the table. 
 
 Emily smiled and waved around the room. Either no one had noticed her outburst or they were intentionally ignoring it. The young boy had seated himself and did n't even offer them a secondary glance. 
 
 `` I'm not imaginary,'' Janet repeated, but this time in a quiet voice. 
 
 `` Prove it,'' Emily said. 
 
 Janet reached for the cup of coffee, but stopped when her hand passed through it. The smug grin that rose to her lips fell to fear. She reached for it again, but her fingers found no purchase. Emily took the cup and raised it to her lips, draining what was left of the lukewarm coffee. 
 
 `` But I'm real,'' Janet whimpered. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes and she brushed them away with the corner of her cardigan. 
 
 `` I'm sorry,'' Emily said. 
 
 Janet chewed on her lip while she thought about their situation, a habit Emily once carried with her until she'd grown out of it. She wiped her eyes one final time before leaning forward and placing the purse on the floor. 
 
 `` So for us to move on-'' Janet began. 
 
 `` You have to go,'' Emily finished her sentence. `` You always were the first one to figure things out.'' 
 
 `` And the cup? Why does n't anyone notice it the strange girl talking to an empty seat?'' Janet asked. 
 
 `` I do n't understand,'' Emily said. 
 
 `` But I think i do...'' Janet concentrated and the coffee cup appeared back in front of them. Her eyes danced upon the cup and a smile curled at the ends of her lips. 
 
 `` You ca n't do that,'' Emily stared at the cup as if it had just sprouted wings. 
 
 `` You say you created me in your image?'' Janet whispered. She reached out her hand and picked up the cup, bringing it to her lips. 
 
 `` You're not real,'' Emily whispered. `` *I am. *'' 
 
 `` Are you sure?'' Janet asked.
