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iceywrites · 4 years

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Something about your voice (Reader X Sirius Black)

Pairing: Reader x Sirius Black Words: 3.4K Chapters: 1/? If you want to read it on AO3, click here

A/N: This is my first ever piece of fanfiction (any sort of it). If you have ANY suggestions, please feel free to share. Constructive criticism is appreciated. That’s it! You can scroll down now.

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The crowd cheered as their performance ended. James pointed his hands to the sky, then lowered them in an exaggerated bow while Sirius leaned forward from the edge of the stage and shook the hands of their fans. Remus started pulling out the wires from his microphone and other instruments that they had used in their concert; he just wasn’t the crowd person. Peter stood up from his seat where he was playing the drums and came into the spotlight, trying to make eye contact with everyone of thousands of people who had gathered to hear them sing. It was a wonderful night since it was last one from their world tour.

“Marauders! Marauders!” The crowd cheered for anyone of the four of them to say the magic words.

Sirius smiled a goofy grin. That was his favorite part of the performance. With his electric guitar still carefully balanced upside down on his back along the strap, he went behind a mic stand and removed it from its holder.

“Before we leave,” he paused for dramatic effect, “I solemnly swear,” he positioned turned the mic towards the crowd.

“I’m up to no good.” The crowd completed. The four of them – The Marauders, if you please – stood shoulders to shoulder, giving a final bow to express their gratitude towards the crowd and with that the lights went out. Even Remus smiled when he looked up at the crowds one last time before they left.

They made their way towards the backstage where they were supposed to have a small meet and greet session with about fifty of their fans who were randomly chosen from a crowd of thousands.

They spent about two more hours there with Sirius telling each and every one of them how thankful he was to see them at the tour. Remus was a tad bit more comfortable when there were lesser people. James was casually joking around with them as if they were friends. Peter usually busied himself with selfies and autographs, giving them a specialized souvenir.

When they were done, the boys resorted to the couch to update their social media feeds with their performance that night. Lily, their agent, came in with a bright smile on her face and not-so-unexpectedly, James looked at her as if she was the meaning of his life, which she probably was. Sirius sighed but smiled. There was no stopping to James pinning over Lily.

“Guys, this was a great show.” She smiled, this time more calculative in character like the agent she was. “We definitely have more profits this year.” She looked at them, her eyes turning soft again. “You did it.”

It was their second album, but they had already made the impression that made every singer in the industry know that they were there to stay. They had a dedicated fan base who supported their decisions without question.

It wasn’t easy to build the band. James was the founder of The Marauders. It was his idea to bring together his mates from their music school to build a band. James’ parents, the Potters, were supportive of his decision. Even though both of them were widely known directors, they didn’t mind their son diverging from their field of art.

But that, however, wasn’t the case with Sirius. The Blacks, just like the Potters, were famous directors only because of their scandals. Each and every member of his family was either an actor or a producer or something in that line of art. Sirius just couldn’t. He could always express himself better when he was singing or playing some instrument. When Sirius rebelled, they threatened him saying that he would be disowned. And so they did. Ever since then, Sirius lived with the Potters.

Remus and Peter were from normal families. They had no celebrity in their hereditary and therefore it was understandable that they were apprehensive.

Remus was the last one to join. He had scars on his body that everyone would claim as ugly and there would never be a day when it would be normal for him. He had been severely bullied when he was younger. It was so bad that he had to get stitches on several places on his body. Then he changed his school and found the biggest goofs he had ever met - James, Sirius and Peter – and life just changed its course.

Remus wanted to join the band, he really wanted. But he just couldn’t convince himself enough that he would be able to handle the negative intensity that would be thrown at him. He would spend nights, tossing and turning around telling himself that he should trust himself and his friends. Every day, those goofs would make leave him little notes like – they are a part of your body and every bit of it is beautiful – or something along the lines of you would create a new scar every time you fight with them. Remus had to admit that they were breaking his resolve. It took him time to understand why exactly was he so needed in that band. It was because the four of them were unbreakable and they hoped to continue it that way.

Sirius had proposed the idea of them having a sort of hieroglyph-ish symbol for each and every one of them. The symbols would tell their listeners about their character and add an element of mystery to their art.

The band was deciding their symbols. James took a stag, Sirius chose a dog and Peter selected a rat. Remus slowly whispered that he would like to be a wolf.

James gave him a toothed grin and said, “Welcome aboard, Moony.” And in that moment Remus understood that they were going to have nicknames too.

Lily told them that they could have a success party but somewhere private where they could be assured that no one was watching them. No one at all. At least not the media. Definitely not the media.

James asked her to join them at the pub they were going where they could have some discretion. She politely refused telling them that it was their success and for once she didn’t want to be a part of it.

Considering them, they got caught pretty easily. Remus had warned them that that place was very crowded and they should definitely not use their Porsche to go to the club and Sirius should definitely not where that jacket which said This is Sirius Motherfucking Black in all possible shades of glitter (which was his patent jacket that he wore at least once to every concert). James waved him off by saying that he was just being paranoid and nothing bad could happen that day. Remus sighed. It would be interesting seeing them face the consequences.

The media was on their heels before they even knew it. This time it was Peter who saw it.

“Mates, that guy right there with the camera has been staring at us for a solid hour.” He whispered.

The three of them slowly turned their head in horror at the man with the camera.

“Lily is going to kill us.” James gulped and Sirius hummed in response.

“I told you – “Remus started but was cut off by a panicked James who was desperately trying to push everyone out of that place.

The cameraman took his clue and started imitating their motions. Sirius eagerly looked over his shoulder to find the man and other such people tailing them.

“We are dead, guys. Lily is going to stab us with her stilettoes.” Sirius said while springing into a run. They had made the very dumb decision of – one - going to the same pub that they had been to a million times before – two – asking their bodyguards and driver to leave because their mansion was close by and they wanted to walk their way home – and three – they were heading to a direction away from their home.

“Why don’t we have alleys here?” Peter asked midst their run.

Remus looked back. They were still chasing them with the cameras and had probably clicked some pictures too.

“Okay, we’re going split. Peter and I are going left and you guys run straight.” They followed him without question because he was the only one who had brain cells among them four.

It worked. The media was totally confused in choosing a more profitable direction. And by the time they decided to split too, The Marauders had found a place to hide. Peter and Remus rushed in a hardware store, which was their only hope considering that most of the stores were shut off in that ungodly hour. James and Sirius found an old and worn out café and rushed in with the logic that the media wouldn’t associate them with a place like that.

You were busy working on your laptop and twirling your pencil. You just really had to complete your project soon as the deadline was rushing close. Your legs were crossed on the table and you balanced your laptop on your lap. You pinched the bridge of your nose and trimmed the video that you were working on, adding filters wherever needed, cropping out unnecessary details and highlighting the moments that were supposed to be important. It was almost done. The music video was meeting your expectations. You made sure that you had completed all tasks that you had made a note of when you were presenting at the site as an assistant director.

You shut your laptop and decided to take a break. You got up from your seat and stretched around a bit. It was 1 AM, so you were obviously caught off guard when two people walked in. And, what was more shocking that they were the bassist and acoustic guitarist of your favorite band, The Marauders. Wow! You stared at them as if you had just met the angels. Your gaze moved from Sirius to James and back again to Sirius.

James looked at your form staring at them and gave you a startled look. Sirius followed his gaze to you and for a moment he forgot that he was supposed to be scared of the fact that you could pretty much blow their cover. How could he be scared? Your eyes were hypnotizing him and he wasn’t against it.

James’ voice brought you and Sirius out of your trance. “Could you help us? Just please don’t tell them that we’re here. Please!”

You smiled. “Hiding from the media, huh?” Sirius could have sworn that he had never heard a voice as angelic as yours.

You walked out of your café and pretended to appear busy. From your peripheral vision, you could see some men with cameras heading towards your direction.

“Have you seen anyone of the Marauders come around here?” A man with a rather gruff voice asked.

“They’re here? Where?” You asked in a squeal. “You have to tell me.”

“Forget I asked.” He said quickly before walking away back to where they came from.

“No! Tell me! Where can I find them?” You pestered as they hurriedly got away from your vision. You waited outside for a few more moments to check if they were heading back. When the coast was clear, you walked inside. Sirius was patiently waiting for your arrival while James’ was in a more panicked state.

“They are gone. You can go, if you want to.” You informed them and James let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you so much. You’re our savior.” You chuckled and waved it off. You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and resumed your editing.

James got up from his seat and started leaving. Sirius was reluctant to leave. He wanted to stay and know more about the stranger that his eyes had caught.

“James, let’s just wait for a while more to be sure that they aren’t coming back around here.” Sirius logically pointed out, buying himself time.

James nodded in agreement and decided to call Remus and Peter to that café as well.

In about fifteen minutes, each one of the Marauders had huddled themselves in the safe cocoon of your café. Remus and Peter seemed a bit apprehensive seeing you there but Sirius decided to tell the valiant story of how you saved them adding his own dramatization. You giggled quietly to yourself when you would know that Sirius was adding extra details and James was shaking his head.

When you were done, you saved your work and looked at the boys. “While you are here, would you like something? I’m sorry I can’t make anything fancy, so please be considerate. Also, I have couple beers with me, so if you want em…?”

Everyone looked a bit hesitant. Everyone except Sirius. He looked like an enthusiastic puppy who was eagerly waiting for his master to toss him something to fetch. Sirius nodded and you tossed a butter beer in his direction. James and Peter joined and you carried the carton along with you for extras. Remus looked hesitant.

“Come on Remus, I can’t poison a canned drink.” You joked and tossed him a can. He gave you a small smile.

You looked around to grab a seat. Sirius slid in, squishing James towards the wall but making space for you. James glared at Sirius but he just looked at you expectantly. You smiled and obliged.

The proximity of having Sirius in your personal space made a deep red blush creep up your neck. You tucked a loose strand behind your ear and bit your lip in hopes to calm your hyped up heartbeat. You decided you start a conversation to distract yourself from your feelings.

“Your performance was great tonight.” You started.

“You were there?” Peter asked.

“No, just saw some videos of people who did go.” You took a sip and continued. “But I was there during your Australia tour. It was phenomenal.” You pointed your can towards Remus. “Your fingers run on those keys as if that is the only religion they know.” Remus bashed away and muttered a thanks.

“What about me?” Sirius asked and James decided to slurp onto his beer a bit loudly. Sirius slipped his drink, fixing his eyes on you.

You looked in some arbitrary direction and drowned yourself in the memories of the concert.

You were standing close to the stage. It was the last song and the crowds were going crazy. You were surrounded by a harmony of screams. In all those voices, you couldn’t even hear yourself. There was a silence among the four of them. Everybody had braced themselves for whatever was to come. The crowd started chanting Marauders like a mantra. And to satisfy everyone’s desires, a spotlight shined on Sirius and he smiled at each breathing soul in that arena. There was something mischievous about that smile but it was subtle enough to not look devious. He was going to open the song with his guitar. His fingers lingered over the strings, playing each chord ever so slowly. And then, his eyes met yours and you felt as if he was going to sing that only for you, like no one else mattered in that moment. You felt your breath being taken away. He winked at you and you swore that your soul had left for afterlife. His fingers went wild on the guitar, resonating its sound in the stadium, making it the most prominent sound over the several thousand screams. Sirius moved his eyes to the next person and you felt yourself come back to your senses. You were feeling dizzy. You shook your head and palmed your forehead, never once letting your smile fade.

Soon James, Remus and Peter came in the spotlight and they commenced their song. You banged your head to every beat and living them as if they were oxygen.

“When you play that guitar,” you said pulling yourself out of your thoughts but not completely, “it feels like the world it only confined to you and your guitar. Like that guitar is your secret language - almost like a mirror - to your inner self. And when you sing, oh God, it’s like everything moving stopped to hear your voice for it is too precious to be missed. I won’t call it an angelic voice, because I don’t know how they sound, but when I hear your voice, everything feels alright. I am in this comfort place where I know that no one can hurt me. Your voice is like therapy to me.” You turned to meet Sirius’ eyes.

Sirius had never heard someone describe him like that. He felt himself loosening up and forgetting there were people around him. It was not the liquor, he was sure. He was just drowning in your words; not because they were about him, but because they were so genuine and pure. There was no want in them. It was just sincere appreciation for his art. Peter and James coughed at the same to bring you both out of your trance. You were suddenly made aware of the people around you. You looked away and cursed yourself for not having a filter. It was obvious that they thought you were a creep and you helped them plant that assumption in their mind.

Sirius eyed each one of his friends, questioning their existence. Remus gulped down his drink to stifle his laughter. James and Peter visibly wiggled their eyebrows suggestively and Sirius only hoped that he could throw all of them away to get a nice moment with you.

James coughed and changed the topic. “And what do you think about me?” He asked, placing his head on his hands and looking at you with faux dreaminess in his eyes.

You shrugged. “Um, well, you sing… good?” James dramatically put a hand on his chest claiming that you wounded him and you felt the need to clarify that you were kidding even though you knew that both him and Sirius were known for being over dramatic.

You didn’t realize how time flew away as you talked to a grey eyed idol and his band mates. You loved how he was so very down to earth when he talked to you. You adored his passion for his art. You admired the way his eyes would crinkle and he would throw his head back when he found a joke particularly funny. You liked when he would look in some arbitrary direction and talk about all the gifts he had received from his fans and how he had a place specially dedicated for those articles.

Over the time, you had learnt to admire the man from his interviews, his voice, his presence, his skills, his looks, his dedication, his passion, his story and whatnot. But now that he was actually sitting beside you, talking to you as if you weren’t a stranger; everything felt… surreal. You had learnt to trust this man and support him no matter what and now that he was interacting with you, you knew that he was real and he had never faked anything.

So, really, it wasn’t your fault that you fell for this grey eyed, long haired Sirius Black.

Sirius wasn’t really far from the page you were on. When he first saw you, he was attracted to the elegance of your form. But when he spent a little more time with you, he realized that there was more than just the outward beauty that he saw. There was more depth and meaning to you and for some absurd reason, he wanted to know it. He wanted to know everything about you. Everything that his brain could contain and more.

What could he say, the mysterious (E/C) eyed beauty just had that captivating aura.

Remus, being the only rational mind among the dorks, suggested – no commanded – that it was past one and they could go home now considering that the media would have gone back a long while back.

They started moving out, thanking you for saving them and sharing your beers. You smiled and told them that they could come around anytime they wanted.

“I open up the café at night only. So, it is pretty safe for you guys.” You said with a friendly chuckle.

When the rest of them had walked a little on the way to their home, Sirius ran back to the café to find you packing up your things.

“I almost forgot,” he said in between his panting, “what is your name?”

You felt a soft blush creeping up on your neck. You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and whispered in a soft voice, “(Y/N)”.

Sirius’ lips stretched into a smile as he commented, “Beautiful.”

#harry potter #hp #the marauders #the marauders era #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #sirius x reader #sirius/reader #sirius #remus #james #peter #sirius imagine #i don't know what else to tag #have fun?

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loving-jack-kelly · 3 years

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i go by a different name online (my irl name is uncommon) so all my online friends know me as one name and everyone offline knows me by another name. my online name is something close to me, it isnt just a pseudonym its like a second name to me. (specifically chosen because 1 i really like it and 2 it might have been my irl name) im getting closer with people i met online and there is a possibility of meeting them irl. i really dont mind continuing to be referred to as my other name but im worried that they will feel lied to (were pretty close) i dont want to just randomly bring it up now but i also dont want to spring it on them when/if we meet irl. if i dont say anything at all and they meet my family/irl friends it will be really awkward. idk what to do :(

I think the best thing to do is probably just to tell your online friends that you use a different name online. I don’t think it’s a super uncommon thing, especially if you have an uncommon name, to use a different name for privacy’s sake, you know? I don’t think anybody you know just from online would be that upset by it, especially if you tell them. Plus, since it’s a name you like and would go by in person too, it’s not like you’re suddenly revealing you’re a totally different person, it’s like if they just got to know you by a nickname and don’t know your “real” name. That’s what I would feel, anyway.

#im an advice blog now i guess #good luck anon! im sure everything will be fine!#Anonymous

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thinkingaboutyoungroyals · 5 years

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Lost Boy (Chapter 4: The Past)

Summary: When his family moves from San Francisco to the town of Shadyside, T.J. thought his life would change. And it did. He just didn’t think it would come in the form of the ghost of a boy who haunted his new bedroom.

Prologue

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Tag list: @delicatesleeper,@ibroughtachallah,@frenchtohste,@alittletooliteralleah,@tyrusmagocious,@tjskipping, @mirrorslover, @opatrickr, @lesbianrelateddeath, @mirrorslover,@opatrickr, @justkimberley, @burning-hot-pan, @green-lemonboys, @anotherangelfromspace, @thebisexualweirdo,@likelightning-inabottle, @thedampjofangirl, @fizasdr, @awkward-bisexual-alien, @whipashwhipash

............

David Bowie’s “Changes” was playing loudly from the speakers. The Red Rooster wasn’t quite as crowded since it was a weekday, just a couple of adults examining the instruments and a few kids browsing through the stuff or playing with the instruments.

Bobbing his head along to the music, T.J. flipped through the records nonchalantly. On the opposite side of the rack, Andi was prattling on and on about Art Club and all her ideas to contribute. T.J. had to smile at her enthusiasm – the girl had a way of easing his tension.

Cyrus was right about her – she was a sweet one.

“So, how’s adjusting to Shadyside life?” she randomly asked. “Have you fully embraced our little town?”

T.J. hummed. “A small town has pros and cons.”

“What’s a pro?”

“Everyone knows everyone so we’ve had a new visitor almost everyday, welcoming us to the neighborhood and bringing food. Mom has taken a break from cooking.”

“That sounds nice! And a con?”

T.J. made a face. “Everyone knows everyone.”

Andi laughed, shaking her head. “You get used to it. I’ve lived here my whole life.”

She didn’t realize it but it was the opening T.J. needed. “So…you’ve probably grown up with almost everyone at Grant, then?”

“Pretty much.”

“So…who else do you hang out with? Aside from Libby and Walker.”

Libby and Walker were Andi’s art club friends – she introduced them to T.J. a few days ago. Libby was deaf but, like Andi, she could make headbands, jewelry, and clothing out of anything she could get her hands on. Meanwhile, Walker was a happy-go-lucky painter and caricaturist.

The three of them together were a walking art machine. So, it made T.J. wonder where Buffy and Cyrus fell in before the latter passed away.

“Jonah Beck and I hang out sometimes,” she casually stated.

T.J. knew him – he was in his English class. He was a pretty dude, but not really T.J.’s type.

“And…” she trailed off, her earlier beaming smile turning sad.

“And?” T.J. prodded, hoping he wasn’t being too annoying.

Andi cleared her throat. “And there’s my best friend Buffy.” She didn’t mention Cyrus, at all. “But we haven’t really hung out in a while. She’s been busy pursuing other things and so have I.”

“Oh, okay.” T.J. racked his brains for something else to say. “Oh yeah, tomorrow is basketball tryouts. Honestly, I’m kinda nervous.”

Andi flashed him an encouraging smile. “I’m sure you’ll do great!”

“Uh… do you want to come and watch? For moral support? I could use it.”

Sure, he could always ask Amber but he needed Andi there. It was important.

Without missing a beat, Andi nodded. “Sure! I’ll be there!”

“Great! Thanks, Andi. That means a lot.”

“Anytime!” She looked down and grinned. Pulling out a Cyndi Lauper record, she covered her face with it. “Do I look like a girl who just wants to have fun?”

T.J. laughed. “Totally.”

…….

T.J. felt him before he heard him.

“Hey, Sixth Sense.”

Chuckling as he looked up from his homework. “I think you’re running out of nicknames, Ghost Boy.”

Cyrus beamed from where he sat, perched on T.J.’s desk, as always. Thus, the latter had chosen to do his homework on his bed, instead.

“So, how was your day?” the ghost asked.

“Pretty good. I hung out with your friend Andi after school. She’s fun.”

“Told ya!”

He answered the last question on his History homework before shutting his notebook and textbook and moving them to the side. He locked gazes with Cyrus.

“Where do you go when you’re not here?” T.J. asked, curiously.

“Oh. Just around.”

A simple and straightforward answer. But, it still left a lot of questions.

T.J. raised an eyebrow. “We’ve been living together for pretty much two weeks now. You can drop the whole mysterious act.”

“Maybe I wanna keep on being mysterious,” Cyrus replied, looking smug.

T.J. opened his mouth to answer but a knock on his door interrupted.

“It’s open!” he called out.

The door cracked a smidge and Amber poked her pretty blonde head in.

“Are you talking to someone in here?” she asked, eyebrow raised.

T.J. flashed a look at where Cyrus was before meeting his sister’s eyes.

She turned pale. “Oh.”

Even though he had already explained to her that Cyrus was a good ghost and had no intention of hurting her, she still wasn’t fond of the idea of there being a ghost in their house, at all. She rarely ever went to T.J.’s room because of this.

“Well… uh… Mom will probably be home soon and if she hears you talking to yourself, she’ll think you’ve gone nuts.”

T.J. hummed. “Pretty sure we’re past that.”

“T.J.,” Amber seethed. “She thought you were doing drugs when she saw you talking to yourself last year!”

“And I told her I’m clean now.”

“You never did drugs to begin with!”

T.J. spared a look in Cyrus’ direction just to see his eyes wide in rapt attention.

Great. He was definitely going to get questions now. Maybe he could distract him. The boy was easily distracted by one thing or another. He was probably the type who never held grudges when he was alive.

“Look, the walls here are not paper thin like the apartment,” T.J. explained. “So, there’s no way she’ll hear. And her room is on the other side of the house. I’ll be fine. And I’m careful.”

Amber still didn’t look convinced but nonetheless, she nodded. Taking one last nervous look around the room, she swallowed.

“Okay, I’m gonna go back to my room. And… make sure it doesn’t follow me?”

Cyrus laughed and shook his head. “Tell her I have no intention of doing so. I’m a gentleman.”

T.J.’s lips twitched. “He won’t follow you. Don’t worry.”

Amber nodded again before quickly pulling her head back and closing the door.

“Your sister is very… paranoid,” Cyrus stated.

T.J. sighed. “She doesn’t have the best experience with ghosts.”

Cyrus nodded, sympathetically. “That bad, huh?”

“Yeah…”

“Do you mind me asking what happened?”

He was about to say “no” but paused, considering the idea.

No one else knew about the story – only him and Amber. He knew she still had nightmares about it. That memory would even make its way into his dreams and he would wake up sweating with his heart thumping so hard that it hurt. Always – for a brief moment – he would be back in that room in their apartment in San Francisco.

Cyrus was suddenly gone from the desk.

“I was raised by four psychologists,” his voice spoke right next to T.J.

The blonde almost jumped ten feet into the air. “Dude! You’ve got to stop doing that! Just walk towards me!”

Cyrus laughed. “Sorry! I haven’t considered that you might be startled by that. I’m just so used to doing it and no one really reacting. But, I’ll try to stop, I promise.”

T.J. huffed. “You better. What if I get a heart attack and drop dead right here? I’ll haunt you forever.”

“We’ll be ghost buddies, then! Together for all eternity!”

T.J.’s cheeks burned and his heart skipped a beat. That was not the answer he expected.

Cyrus’ laugh diminished to a soft smile. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t want to. But, it might make you feel better. And, like I said, I was raised by four psychologists. Well, three psychologists and a life coach, but same deal. So, I’m a pretty good listener. I’m here if you need me.”

It was kind of funny how Cyrus could go from extremely comical to touchingly sweet, all in a span of ten seconds.

“It’s not that I don’t want to talk about it.” T.J. scraped his nails against one jean-covered knee. “It’s just not the most pleasant memory. And only Amber and I really know about it. Mom…she doesn’t know everything that happened. She doesn’t know about my abilities, at all, and…”

“That’s why she thought you were doing drugs?”

T.J. let out a chuckle devoid of humor. “I should have been more vigilant.” He let out a deep breath. “Anyway… what happened… well… Remember when I told you I started seeing my grandma’s ghost when I was 6?”

Cyrus nodded.

“Well, she wasn’t the only ghost in our apartment.”

The image of a little girl, her hair in pigtails and wearing a long pink dress, floated in his mind.

“Her name was Emily. She was around 6 when she died. Probably why she latched on to me because we were the same age. I didn’t mind playing with her and all. And she was kinda fun.” He chuckled. “Mom thought I had an imaginary friend.”

He was silent for a moment, recalling every moment with Emily. Meeting her. Agreeing to be her friend. Playing with her. Being happy that he had a secret friend that no one else knew about.

“Amber is only a year older than me, so it’s normal for us to get into fights. We fought a lot when we were kids. And, Emily… she didn’t like that. She was really protective of me.”

“O-Oh…” Cyrus’ voice was shaky but he was paying close attention.

T.J. let out another breath.

“Well, one day, Amber and I were fighting. I don’t even remember what the fight was about but she was really mad. And when Amber was mad, she got physical. She pushed me and tried to pull all my hair out. After mom broke up the fight, she put us in different rooms. I was in the living room and Amber was in our bedroom.”

He swallowed as he tried to steady his shaking hands.

“I was watching T.V. when I heard Amber scream. At first, I thought she just saw a bug or something and I didn’t really bother to check for a while. Then… she called for me.”

“T.J.! T.J.! Help me!”

“I ran into the room and I saw her... dangling out the window. She said she fell but… I saw Emily next to the window, just watching her and...smiling”

“What did you do?!”

“She was mean to you!”

“She’s my sister! Amber!”

“I tried to pull her up but I was only 6. I thought she was going to fall.”

“Oh my god…” Cyrus whispered, looking horrified.

T.J. bit his lip.

“T.J.! Help me! Help me! T.J.!”

“Luckily, mom came back from the laundry room and saw us. She pulled Amber in. She wouldn’t stop crying. And Emily was angry that it didn’t go the way she wanted. That was the first time I saw her like that. So… sinister and malevolent.”

“So… you told Amber about Emily?” Cyrus asked.

“Not at first. I wanted to keep it to myself. But, she kept asking me who I was talking to, wouldn’t stop annoying me. She even threatened to throw my basketball out the window. So, I finally did. She didn’t believe me at first, called me a liar and everything. But, then, Emily started playing pranks on her. She would take Amber’s toys and move them. She would pull on Amber’s hair. Once she…” He swallowed. “She dunked her head under the water while Amber was taking a bath.”

“Oh my god,” Cyrus repeated.

“After the bathtub incident, Amber finally believed me. She refused to sleep in our room. It came to the point where she would cry and throw tantrums until Mom finally swapped rooms with us. And I was mad at Emily. Yelled at her until I cried. So…ever since, I was afraid of her and every ghost I saw. I pretended I didn’t see them and I started ignoring Emily and my grandma.”

His Nana wasn’t happy, he often caught her looking sad when he would ignore her. She had tried talking to him but he would leave the room or stick headphones in his ears so he wouldn’t have to listen.

“I only started helping ghosts when I turned 8,” T.J. continued. “My grandma…once I finally decided to start talking to her again… she told me it was an inherited ability. She had it and her mom and grandfather had it. It skips a generation now and then so mom didn’t inherit it. Neither did Amber. But…I did. Lucky me, I guess? And then… Nana disappeared. She had moved on. Her unfinished business was to tell me the truth. I just never gave her the chance until then.”

Meanwhile, the ghost girl, Emily… she was devastated that she had lost her only friend. She had tried to apologize but T.J. never really forgave her, especially when Amber started getting nightmares.

She never blamed him for what happened. But, T.J. did. That was why he resolved to protect his sister as much as he could.

Letting out a staggered breath, he tried holding back tears. “Sorry… that was a lot to dump on you.” He let out a humorless laugh. “But… you’re right… it kind of made me feel better.” He smiled, lightly. “Thanks.”

Cyrus returned the smile. “You’re welcome,” he replied.

Silence fell over them.

T.J. drummed his fingers against his knee. Amber didn’t want to be reminded of what happened so they pretended it never did. He thought he was over it. Maybe he truly wasn’t.

But, the heaviness in his chest had lifted a little. It felt good talking about it, a release he never knew he needed.

Cyrus’ hands were clasped together on his lap, biting his lip. He seemed to be contemplating something.

“Um…I just walk around town, visiting places I used to frequent. Sometimes, I go see my parents. They moved somewhere else but they’re still in town. I guess the house, this house and the other one, reminded them too much of me. I’m their only son, you see. So...my loss must have been too much for them.”

T.J. stared.

Cyrus shrugged. “You asked me earlier where I go when I’m not here. I figured since you shared something with me, I could share something with you. So, I guess we’re both a little less mysterious now. Too bad, I was going to look out the window and look distant.”

Laughter exploded out of T.J.’s mouth – a genuine laugh, this time. He felt lighter, somehow. Maybe Cyrus wasn’t a ghost. Maybe he was a magician or a wizard or something.

How did he manage to relieve T.J. of his burden for the last eight or so years of his life with just a few words?

Cyrus flashed him a weirded out look, his fuzzy eyebrows scrunched.

He looked like a cute puppy.

Clearing his throat, T.J. scooted a few inches away from Cyrus.

“So, I have a plan for your friends.”

The sudden change in subject appeared to confuse the ghost but he went along with it.

“I’m listening.”

“So, tomorrow is basketball tryouts, right? Well, turns out both the boys and girls teams are doing it together. And Buffy told me she was trying out. So, I asked Andi to come and watch. They are likely to run into each other and since they don’t know that I know the other, I’m bound to try and ‘introduce’ them, only for them to tell me they already know each other and then they’ll start talking again.”

Cyrus looked impressed. “Your plan is so simple yet it could actually work.”

T.J. beamed. “Right? I’m a genius!”

The other boy chuckled. “Thank you, T.J. You didn’t have to do this for me and yet you are. I’ll forever be in your debt.”

Feeling his cheeks redden, T.J. just waved a hand in dismissal. “It’s no big deal. This is nothing compared to what I’ve done for other ghosts. You just want your friends to get along again.”

“Yeah. They’re just… really important to me. And I don’t want to move on without them getting along again.”

Cyrus’ demeanor deflated a little. T.J. noticed that it happened often when they spoke about his friends. But, if they are Cyrus’ unfinished business, then there was no avoiding talking about it.

He really loved his friends. And based on Andi’s sadness when something seemed to remind her of Cyrus, it appeared that they must have loved him a lot, too.

And, then, T.J. wondered what it was like when Cyrus was alive. After getting to know him, T.J. knew that he was the type of person who didn’t deserve to die. He deserved to live and spread love and joy everywhere he went.

What if T.J.’s family had moved just a year earlier? What if he had met Cyrus and became his friend? What if he could have somehow helped prevent him from dying?

The last thought was a little far-fetched. He didn’t even know how Cyrus died. He wouldn’t tell T.J.

There were just some things in this world that could not be controlled, no matter how much you want to.

Still, T.J. couldn’t help but wonder.

“Do you ever think about…” he began.

He met Cyrus’ questioning eyes.

“You know…” he continued. He coughed a little and cleared his throat. “If you were alive, right now, do you think… we could have been friends, too?”

“Of course!” Cyrus beamed. “No doubt about it! I mean…” He chewed on his bottom lip, looking shy all of a sudden. “We’re friends now, right?”

Sparkling brown eyes peeked worriedly at him from under long lashes.

T.J.’s heart suddenly picked up pace as his throat went dry and his palms got all sweaty.

“Yeah… We’re friends,” he managed, his lips twitching.

Cyrus breathed in relief.

Getting to his feet, T.J. stretched. “So… do you wanna watch a movie or something? I have Netflix.”

“Don’t you have to finish your homework?”

He walked over to his desk where he left his laptop. “I can do it later.”

“T.J.” Cyrus’ tone was scolding.

“Cyrus,” T.J. retorted, teasingly.

The ghost boy looked torn, chewing on his lip as he looked from T.J.’s abandoned books and notebooks on the bed to the laptop and then back to the stuff on the bed.

“I promise to do it tonight. I’ll even let you check my answers, if you want.”

That seemed to set Cyrus’ mind. “Okay.”

Grinning that he got his way, T.J. picked up his laptop and went back to his bed. He settled against the headboard, pushing books, notebooks, and pens aside. He patted the space next to him and Cyrus disappeared and reappeared next to him (he was prepared this time so he didn’t even flinch).

He opened up Netflix and scrolled through the choices. “What do you want to watch?”

“Anything is fine. You pick.”

T.J. was in the mood for seeing animated and fun so he chose “Big Hero 6”. For the hour and a half or so, they were silent as they concentrated on the movie. Cyrus did cry a bit loudly at the beginning during the school fire scene (T.J. had wrapped an arm around him and rubbed his shoulder until the scene passed), but otherwise, neither of them spoke a word.

It was nice.

Back in San Francisco, T.J. never got to have a movie night with his friends. If you could even call them friends, that is. They were just people he hung out with at school but never really had a deep friendship with. He mostly stuck with Amber (to his sister’s chagrin) or spent his free time by himself. A few ghosts have tried to befriend him but, usually, they had ulterior motives.

After dinner, he fulfilled his promise to Cyrus by sitting at his desk and doing his homework.

The ghost entertained himself by playing with T.J.’s little plastic basketball, attempting to shoot at the net on the door from various angles.

It was adorable, really. And, kind of distracting.

“Need help with that?” T.J. asked, amused as the plastic ball bounced off the edge for the tenth time.

“No, I got this,” Cyrus replied, stubbornly. “You finish your homework.”

T.J. chuckled. “Yes, mom.”

The ghost childishly stuck his tongue out at him before returning to his little game.

T.J. turned his attention back on his homework.

The rest of the night was peaceful.

It was nice.

…………

T.J. was among ten other boys trying out for the boys’ basketball team.

As he warmed up with a few dribbles, he kept his gaze on the girls gathered on the opposite side of the gym, trying to spot a familiar head of curls.

“T.J.!”

His head spun around at the call.

Andi and Libby were standing by the bleachers, waving at him, both sporting matching grins. T.J. waved back and watched as the two girls made their way up to find seats. He went back to dribbling, still keeping his eye out for Buffy.

He didn’t have to wait long. The doors to the locker room opened and out she came, head held high with confidence. Beside her was a brunette boy, talking as he nudged her shoulder. Laughing, she nudged back at him.

T.J. watched fascinated as the two appeared to banter back and forth before they split – the boy heading towards the boys’ side and Buffy for the girls’.

The blonde looked up at the bleachers again to see if Andi had noticed Buffy. The pixie-haired girl was distractedly conversing with Libby.

Good. He could make this work, somehow. He just had to figure out how to get them to talk to each other.

A whistle blew and he pulled his attention away from the two girls. The coaches were calling everyone over.

It was showtime.

#andi mack #tyrus #tyrus fanfic #tyrus lost boy

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fatedreamt-blog · 5 years

Note

Every. Odd. Number. choose a muse i love you

detailed oc questions. / open.

1. What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

cole’s full name - corazon lumaban - was chosen after the nickname cole! and cole came from broccoli bc it’s a… i don’t wanna say gag bc that doesn’t rlly fit but neither does theme? in their story. a lot of the names i choose for ocs are usually just names that fit right to me / the character. i don’t… put a lot of thought into them which maybe i should but? fhskjh either way, names are chosen based off a theme / aesthetic i want to convey ( cain / abel’s slight biblical themes and the story influencing cain’s, houston’s name being based off of houston, texas, and texas being, for me anyways, the first state you think of when you think of southern, etc ), or are just made up on the spot / randomly given based on the feel it gives. rhys’s last name, matthews, was an on the spot name, and so was katherine’s first name.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

monroe had a good childhood! they had hearing but supportive parents who made sure they learned asl at a young age. they attended a deaf/hoh school when they were younger, but switched to a regular public school when they got older bc they wanted to meet more people. of course, they have bad memories in relation to being hoh, but the good far outweighs the bad.

stribog had… a complicated childhood. his parents were there, but because he grew up in a large family and a large household, he eventually grew to get used to being excluded or forgotten. he likes to think it’s not his parents’ fault, and has fond memories of having cole over, or playing with his siblings. he had a good relationship with his siblings - with its obvious bumps of course - and is okay with the childhood he had.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

leaf has 2 step siblings named tomone and masao. her relationship with them is… very strained, and the comparison made to them by her parents fueled her inferiority complex. she’s very bitter towards them and doesn’t really like to talk to her family, because while tomone and masao are friendly enough, something about them always digs up memories and makes her feel bad. it doesn’t help that when she still had contact with her parents, they still compared her to her step siblings even when she turned 18. she cut contact with them when she turned 19.

mk’s older brother and guardian is bryan admon! he was sorta… thrust into this older brother slash guardian figure because their dad started to become very busy and absent, and their mom died giving birth to mk. they have a close relationship, and while mk is omniscient, bryan still takes care of them as best as he can. he doesn’t understand a lot about them or their obligations because he’s just a regular ol human, but he tries his best to help out and support them. he’s a good.

7. Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

……i’m looking at my ocs list and i don’t think any of them really were popular as kids…? i’m sure they had the occasional friend ( ash, noah, monroe, etc ), but some of them were isolated and didn’t make friends easy. i’d say miriam kept some of her childhood friends well into adulthood!

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

synne, the druid they are, LOVES animals. they connect with them better than they do with most people, and in modern au, work at a pet store. animals usually like them. micah and monroe love birds specifically and are probably friends + part of the same birdwatching club. birds like micah, and a specific family of birds that made residence in 1 of their flower pots like monroe.

11. Do they have any special diet requirements? Are they a vegetarian? Vegan? Have any allergies?

katherine and rory are both vegetarians! the former also doesn’t like eggs, just because she dislikes the texture, and needs more protein in her diet. neither of them have allergies. rory makes Amazing veggie burgers and really goes out of his way to replicate certain food, but vegetarian. he tries to shy away from animal-based products, but isn’t super strictly vegan. katherine just… throws together whatever she can for dinner. she adjusts easily.

13. What is their least favourite food?

noah… does not like anything with a chunky texture, and especially hates cottage and blue cheese.

15. Are they good at cooking? Do they enjoy it? What do others think of their cooking?

ash is pretty good at cooking! so is micah, rory and andy. other people are in a general consensus that they make good food. toby… we know of his cooking and eating habits and no one approves of them

17. Do they like to take photos? What do they like to take photos of? Selfies? What do they do with their photos?

andy loves taking photos!! she likes remembering and commemorating events and will insist on taking pictures whenever she can. she likes to organize them into albums on her phone, or make them into scrapbooks. she seldom takes selfies of herself. as she is a model, she figures she has enough photos of herself out there.

micah, on the other hand, has no photos of him available. he tries not to get into pictures a lot, which andy is understanding of. it’s probably connected to the fact that there’s no information about him anywhere.

19. What’s their least favourite genres?

jo doesn’t like music that’s loud for the sake of being loud.

21. Do they have a temper? Are they patient? What are they like when they do lose their temper?

rory… has somewhat of a temper? he gets really protective which manifests in aggression, but it’s not angry. you can tell he’s angry when he’s oddly silent and quiet, a simmering kind of rage that bites at you. he’s really patient though. the same applies to toby - no one’s really ever seen him angry before, but when he is, he goes silent. it’s terrifying.

jo doesn’t have a temper, but she does have a bit of an explosive anger. when she’s really mad at someone - which doesn’t happen often, because she’s usually a chill and easygoing person - she just bursts and yells. it’s a lot.

leaf cries when she’s angry. she doesn’t get angry too easily, but there are things that poke at her, and she’s just sobbing when she gets mad.

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

houston and mk both have excellent memories - it comes with being omniscient. they remember faces and names easily, even far into their life. leaf’s forgetful, and usually has to write things down to remember them.

25. What do they find funny? Do they have a good sense of humour? Are they funny themselves?

miriam loves videos like that one video of the girl asking alexa to play baby shark. it more makes her smile than anything else, but it brightens her day a lot. she also finds karma and irony funny, and has a pretty good sense of humor about things. she’s pretty funny! she has a very specific brand of humor.

27. What makes them sad? Do they cry regularly? Do they cry openly or hide it? What are they like they are sad?

as mentioned above, leaf cries a lot. it’s the first reaction that comes to her. not a lot of things make her sad enough to cry, though, but sometimes she’ll just randomly remember something or something will dampen her mood a lot and she’ll cry. she’s grown to cry silently, and will often hide out in bathrooms of public places sometimes. she has a game with herself that it’s her “goal” to cry in every public bathroom. it helps her cope. she’s a lot more cheery when she’s sad as an attempt to hide how miserable she is.

29. What do they do when they find out someone else’s fear? Do they tease them? Or get very over protective?

micah gets protective and tries to steer them away from their fear if it pops up. rhys’ll probably use it against the person if it’s not a loved one, and will likely use it as a part of his fear tactic.

31. Do they drink? What are they like drunk? What are they like hungover? How do they act when other people are drunk or hungover? Kind or teasing?

stribog drinks to cope, but it’s not that often. just when he’s really stressed. he gets very quiet when he’s drunk, very emotional and honest, and doesn’t really get hangovers. he comforts other people when they’re drunk and tries his best to be kind towards them. rhys has no alcohol tolerance and tries not to drink in the first place.

jo refuses to drink at all. it’s not her thing, and she doesn’t want to be involved in it.

33. What underwear do they wear? Boxers or briefs? Lacey? Comfy granny panties?

andy wears all sorts of underwear! nothing else to say about that - they’re usually very cute and pretty though, and typically patterned.

35. What’s their guilty pleasure? What is their totally unguilty pleasure?

cain’s guilty pleasure… bad sitcoms. he finds them fascinatingly enjoyable in a weird, sadistic way. they’re so bad they’re funny to him. he also likes things that remind him of his childhood - stuffed animals, for example, are one of them. his unguilty pleasure is long, detailed novels.

37. Do they like to read? Are they a fast or slow reader? Do they like poetry? Fictional or non fiction?

ash is a fast reader! she likes reading, and definitely likes poetry. mary shelly’s one of her favorite authors - or at least, good to read - and she likes the last man and the mortal immortal. she enjoys books that deal with moral dilemmas and reality, but is also a sucker for romance novels. she tends to lean towards fiction, but will read nonfiction sometimes. being a librarian, she has a wide array of book to choose from.

39. Do they like letters? Or prefer emails/messaging?

monroe likes the aesthetic of letters! while emails and messaging are quicker and easier, they like receiving and writing letters. there’s something so weirdly nostalgic and heart fluttering about getting a hand written letter in the mail to them.

miriam prefers emailing and messaging, but will always send hand written thank you notes whenever she or her kids get a gift.

41. What’s their sexuality? What do they find attractive? Physically and mentally? What do they like/need in a relationship?

cole is pan! they don’t really have any specific type, but they do tend to fall in love with sweet, kind, quiet people. people who are unassuming, but try to do good. they like and need trust in a relationship, as well as understanding. sometimes they’re not doing so hot and they need their partner to know that they need distance. i’ve got a Whole meta about leaf and love/relationships in my metas tag, so i don’t think i need to touch upon that hgkjsh

43. Are they religious? What do they think of religion? What do they think of religious people? What do they think of non religious people?

miriam is christian, and has definitely used religion as an anchor. her faith’s helped her during hardships in her life, and thinks it’s a good stability to have in life, but understands why other people may not believe in god and respects that.

45. How do other people see them? Is it similar to how they see themselves?

mk describes themself as an oddity, an ethereal abomination. they know they’re not ordinary, and fully embraces that, even using it to freak people out sometimes. a lot of kids - and adults, occasionally - do think they’re weird and a freak, which isn’t something they really… like. they don’t like being called a freak. mk thinks that they’re a pretty okay kid.

rhys sees himself as… well, a machine. he does think highly of himself, but it’s more that he thinks highly of his origin than of himself. it’s not oh, rhys is better, it’s oh, robots are better. he really has no opinions on himself otherwise. people see him as a charming person, usually, because that’s what he presents himself as. but y’know. We All Know The Truth

47. How do they act in a formal occasion? What do they think of black tie wear? Do they enjoy fancy parties and love to chit chat or loathe the whole event?

micah likes dressing up! he likes making it a thing and going all out. he seldom gets to wear suits and the like, so wearing them and going to a party or something is fun to him. he likes to chit chat, and what he does puts him as someone important and charitable to a lot of people. not only does he donate a lot of his earnings, he also has a mansion / penthouse where he lets people stay if they’re refugees, homeless, coming from bad situations, etc. he gets invited to fancy charity events often, and likes going to them occasionally.

monroe finds them stuffy and boring, and stribog gets nervous at them. rhys is practically used to them, though.

49. What is their most valued object? Are they sentimental? Is there something they have to take everywhere with them?

cain doesn’t like holding connections to his past, but he does have a very ratty, very old teddy bear from his mom. it sits in a drawer in his desk that’s locked, and he’s very protective over it. he doesn’t want anything bad happening to it.

synne has their circlet, which is something they enjoy for aesthetic reasons, but it’s also a reminder on why they’re going out on adventures and the such. it helps them not lose sight of their goal. of course, their adventures and the reason for doing them have changed and advanced, but still. they take it everywhere with them, as it is part of their outfit, and is relatively sentimental.

#useknives #THANK U ILYSM!!!!!!!#AA #long post #4 ppl on mobile hgskjth #alcohol #death #ask to tag #system upgrades. / headcanons: rhys.#she painted smiles on every face except her own. / headcanons: ash.#which part of jolene died that day? / headcanons: jo.#seawater chokes you. / headcanons: katherine.#nostalgia is a dirty liar who insists things were better back then. / headcanons: leaf.#you cut the roots off of flowers to prove they can be free too. / headcanons: mushroom kid.#you're worse than nicotine. / headcanons: noah.#if only hell didn't feel like home. / headcanons: rory.#what prayers do we say when we think god isn't listening? / headcanons: andy.#if anyone asks you haven't heard of me. / headcanons: micah.#the greatest mystery is himself. / headcanons: houston.#half truths are still half lies. / headcanons: cain.#we're alone in the ocean. / headcanons: cole.#it does not heal. not today. maybe tomorrow. / headcanons: stribog.#facts you don't know about yourself. / headcanons: toby.#everyone is guilty of something. / headcanons: synne.#......i should've added ado atlas n dustin 2 but I Forgot Bc They're Not Fandomless #/ Original Canons #fhksjhg o well maybe next time #find the art in everything. / headcanons: miriam.#i've never been one to half ass shenanigans. / headcanons: monroe.

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notoriously-blonde · 5 years

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The Forgotten Chapter Four: Somethings Never Fade

Read on Ao3 here

[Summary] Sometimes, when people try to erase all of your memory, some memories never go away. Sometimes these memories only surface when unconscious, and feel more like dreams.

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As the words Adrien muttered reach Marinette's brain, she retracts her hand like it had been burned. The sudden movement moving some of Adrien’s hair but going unnoticed by Marinette.

Milady! Milady! He said Milady! Does that mean he remembers me! Can he see me! Could he see me?! But his eyes were closed…. Did I imagine it? Is this a dream. It would make sense. Dreaming Adrien and Chat Noir are the same. I’ve seen Plagg before during Style Queen. So, it could make sense.

But I’ve never seen Chat Noir detransform or transform. I’ve never asked Plagg about it before. Never wanted to. So, why would my mind correlate neon green with Chat? The only thing on him that is green are his eyes. Wouldn’t my mind try to use something else. The light for my transformation light is pink. Which is a lighter shade of red. And my suit is red. Wouldn’t my mind make his black or grey?

I’ve also never seen Tikki and Plagg together like this. I haven’t even heard Tikki talk with anything other than annoyance in her tone when talking about Plagg. I haven’t ever really heard concern for Plagg from Tikki. But… dreams are weird. Maybe that part is a dream.

But then Marinette sees Tikki stroke Plagg’s head with one antenna, and a faint purr come from Plagg. Tikki’s eyes full of concern, and some other soft, but indeterminable thing behind the concern.

No. No, this isn’t a dream. At least not for her. Her mind could never procure such a realistic look. Or dynamic between two kwami she has never seen in the same room except for after Sandboy and before her last encounter with Style Queen that day.

Adrien seems to be unconscious. Which means he’s either having constant dreams, or it’s all blank inside his head. That also mean he sleep talks… she can deal with that.

She looks down at her hand, clutched close to her chest. If he was having dreams, does that mean his subconscious remembers her? Does that mean his subconscious feels something is wrong?

If so... that could mean he could potentially remember me!

Then her brain, the sometimes-treacherous traitor it is, reminds her of what else he said. ‘I promise.’ echos around in her head. His voice soft, and hoarse.

If he said, ‘I promise.’ Does that mean he heard her? It doesn’t really make sense. She can’t quite remember when he promised her something that hasn’t been about his love for her, Ladybug her, that is.

Wait… isn’t it also true that people in comas can still hear people? Does that work the same way with unconscious people? It can’t hurt to try, right?

It only makes sense that he said that if he heard her, right? Even his subconscious can’t remember every conversation even if she were still tangible, much less if all memories of her have been erased. His subconscious couldn’t piece Milady and I promise together, right…? Right?

If that was the case. If he did hear her. That would mean… That means... she isn’t gone forever! She can come back!

He promised to bring her back. Her eyes widen as she realizes this.

Suddenly, she’s overcome with joy, jumping up from by Adrien’s side, hands flying through the air randomly, her ghostly body circling around and around and around, joyful screams and shouts filling all she can hear.

She comes to a stop by Adrien’s side again, both hands clutched at her chest above her heart.

“Oh, kitty. I love you.”

A moment of silence falls into place as her words register in her mind.

Love?!

…Well… is it wrong? She’s had a massive crush on Adrien since his second day at school. Chat Noir, her superhero partner, has been by her side through all of this, except for Style Queen (and any time he’s sacrificed himself to save her), which still doesn’t make sense to her. He’s just as important as she is. At least to her if no one else.

He’s thrown himself in front of her so many times to protect her, how can she not love him. He’s the most kind, brave, and selfless person in the world. He’s had unwavering faith in her since the very beginning, excluding Volpina, Glaciator, and Frozer. They don’t talk about those. Don’t want to think about them.

Yes. Yes, she lives her adorable, dorky, obnoxious kitty.

But maybe... a treacherous part of her brain starts to kick her happiness down, maybe that’s a nickname he has for a friend in this universe.

No. Her optimistic side stands up. He’s only ever called her “Milady” he would never forsake her by calling someone else that. Not even his subconscious would allow for that.

But he doesn’t remember you. The treacherous side says. You don’t know why he said that. You don’t know inside his head. You don’t know his life. In the other universe or this one. You don’t know his friends.

“Then I’ll get to know him!” She shouts, pushing back against her pessimistic side.

“I know him as Chat Noir. I know his life, even if it’s in a vague description. She knows he’s forced into working by his father. She knows he finally started going to school when he finally became Chat Noir. She knows he loves anything at the Dupain-Cheng bakery, especially the croissants. She knows he doesn’t have very many friends. She knows that the friends he has, he is extremely fond of. She knows that he gushes about them any chance he can get. Especially the one friend who is a budding designer.

Her eyes widen again, he’d been talking about her! All this time! He’d been gushing about her, to her face!

He’d proclaimed his love for her, only for her to reject him for himself.

She doesn’t know why, exactly, he had continued to go after her. It’s not exactly right and knowing that he��s Chat Noir doesn’t make it any righter. But it also doesn’t make her feel any better.

She’ll have to talk to him about all of this. Of course, after she kisses him senseless when he brings her back.

But of course, she’ll need to wait for him to bring her back. That could take forever. She’ll just have to help in anyway she can.

Sighing, she files away all her hope and joy, making sure to reserve it all for The Fay Adrien Brings Me Back.

For now, her pessimistic side wins over her consciousness, and she flops down onto through Adrien, not wanting to move and be reminded that everyone she knew and loved has totally and utterly forgotten her. So, she just lies there, half her body halfway through Adrien’s chest.

--------

Tikki has been feeling like she’s being watched non-stop ever since she woke up in the street about a week ago. Well, nonstop until about two days ago when the feeling left her for just over an hour.

The feeling left her feeling significantly colder. So, having it absent left her almost too hot.

Sometimes, she could almost swear that she could hear some very, very faint whispers or sobs, but honestly, it could just be a trick of the wind. The air vents are a weird, and confusing thing.

She looks down at Plagg, his snoring just barely coming out his nose in the cutest of ways.

She’s been pretty much mindlessly petting and cradling Plagg since his chosen had been dropped off. Something in the back of her mind has been nagging at the very back of her mind. She has absolutely no idea why. It’s not exactly like the nagging when you forget something important. But similar. When she tries to think about it, an extremely painful headache bursts through behind her eyes.

She doesn’t know why, exactly, she started thinking about the cold feeling of being watched came to the forefront of her mind, but now that she’s actually thinking about it again... it hasn’t left since the time it had two days ago.

The almost whispers were almost constant while the cold was around them. But now, it had been so loud. Not clear, but like a breeze had been blowing through the windows, scraping plastic along the walls. Loud enough to be noticed, but too quiet to figure out if it was wind, or something unnatural.

Shaking her head, she starts to scratch her counterpart right behind his ears. Right where he like it the most. In the few minutes Plagg had been with her, but purple blemishes seemed to get slightly fainter.

Not too long after that, as she glances up at the chosen. From what Master Fu had told her, he had sent both the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous out at the same time, but the Ladybug has been lost. It’s only been Plagg’s chosen out there since then. Fighting all on his own. No one to help in combat. Only Master Fu’s purification spells managed to heal Plagg’s chosen so he wouldn’t be found out. And the enchanted jars able to keep the Akuma from multiplying. The chosen was badly beaten. Purple and black blemishes across his body. He doesn’t look to bad for one of Plagg’s chosen when they’re on their own. In fact, he looks like one of the best. He could probably go toe to toe with Heracles.

Suddenly, his eyes seem to creak open, just slightly. A small hint of white and green peeking through. After about half a second, they slide close again, but his jaw moves. Barely noticeable, but it moves. She has no idea what he said, she doesn’t have the same senses as Plagg or his Chosen. But he said something.

Almost immediately, a few strands of his hair sway slightly, like a gentle breeze pushed them. Then, the vague whispering winds come back, barely for two seconds, but this moves his hair even more. Like how the air flow of one who is twirling around them would push hair around.

But the air vents have been open for a little bit now. They could be moving because, from what Fu said, the vents are circulating the air to keep the room at the desired temperature. That could explain why his hair moved.

Suddenly, his clothes move ever so slightly, his bangs and a few strands of his blonde hair around his face are puffed from his face the slightest of fractions.

Barely imperceptible. But, like her Ladybugs, she’s been trained to look for the smallest of details.

That, however, could not be from the air vents. They would have moved the hair more. And, unless Plagg’s chosen were directly under the vent, a quick glance determines that is not the case, something not of this world did that.

There is something going on here, and the nagging in the back of her mind increases. Something important is going on here. Something isn’t right. She just can’t figure out what.

Deciding that this needs her to investigate, she sets Plagg down gently, and floats over to his chosen. If she looked closely enough she could almost see his clothes were…. Darker. Ever so slightly.

Like a shadow’s been cast on them, a shadow from something transparent. But it seemed to be the most transparent thing ever, that still somehow managed to be ever so slightly opaque. Though there is nothing around that could cast a shadow like that on him. His jacket is also wrinkled slightly in a way that suggests that there was some added pressure, that definitely wasn’t there before.

It was the most confusing thing ever. Not even her investigative skills, she invented investigation with Plagg, she and him have the most acute senses for details in the universe, could figure out why.

She’ll have to talk to Plagg about this.

Going back to Plagg she uses her antennae to caress his face in the way he loved, though he would never admit that. The tips briefly fade into nothing and phase through his face, earning a loud gasp from Tikki.

--------

Dreams are weird.

He’s been having dreams since the grey suited akuma a week ago. Though, maybe it’s been since he became Chat Noir. He doesn’t know.

Well, sort of... maybe. He remembers seeing the weeping form of a girl, possibly his girlfriend. But he doesn’t remember ever having a girlfriend. Hence why he doesn’t know if it was real or not.

But the other dreams. Those were significantly more confusing. They felt like dreams. But also like... something else. Something he just and quite pinpoint.

His ‘dreams’ for a lack of a better term, always started out the same. Sort of. He’s either studying for school, completing homework, fencing, practicing piano, at a photoshoot, watching anime, reading/watching something on a website... he doesn’t remember what it’s called, but he knows it’s a blog of sorts. It reminds him of Le Fouillis. But that wasn’t the name. It was focusing on someone else. Someone clad in red. His dreams would always cut him off there. Never allowing him to read anything on it.

Anyway, he then gets an akuma alert on his phone, or on the website. He, for some reason, always got weirdly excited as he calls for his transformation and launches onto the roofs to go search for the akuma…. And for someone else.

He never gets excited for akuma. Which is why it must be a dream. But they don’t feel like dreams.

The second thing he really noticed that is different, is his suit. There is no protective padding. His baton is on his back. His suit is smooth, and his head is completely uncovered, unprotected. His ears are in the same place, but they feel weird without the leather helmet. Around his ankles and wrists lay bulbous guards. Up his front is a nonfunctional zipper, and up at the top, hangs a golden bell.

He looks ridiculous.

As he gets close to the latest akuma, he immediately starts fighting it, which is a rooky mistake. Completely unlike him, he’s been silently observing then interacting upon those observations for nearly three years now... right? He shouts ridiculous quips, puns and he angers the akuma without a second thought. All the while grinning like an idiot.

He would then be yanked away from a seemingly fatal blow from the akuma, one he should have been easily able to dodge, by a yo-yo.

He would then turn to face this girl and is met with a weird blur. All he can see when looking at her, is dark, raven blue hair, her face a blur of red and blue. The only thing that isn’t blue, are her eyes. The most captivating, determined, most piercing blue he has ever seen. He then grins all the wider. Not a hint of annoyance in his voice. He would say something, ridiculous and cheesy, and wait for her response. He grins even wider, he’s hasn’t grinned like that since his mother left him, when this girl rolls her eyes and pushes him back, because he had somehow gotten very close to her. They discuss a plan and then launch off to fight the akuma.

Like they should have done in the first place.

She has a name. Everyone has a name. She definitely has a name because not only the akuma, (who he knows, it’s the bubbler one time, Story Weather another time, Anansi another time, Volpina, all the akuma he’s ever fought, but they’re different. Just slightly. He just can’t figure out why.) shout something that niggles at the very back of his mind, during the fight. The akuma demands not only his miraculous but hers too. The... bug one. He can’t quite remember the name. The civilians are even more stupid. Which bugs him. Alya is even more reckless.

But it never matters all that much, because after the battle, everything is returned to normal. Immediately after the battle. Every time.

The civilians are also calmer. More collected. Less cautious.

While fighting the akuma, they are in perfect sync. Like they had been doing this their whole 17 year on earth. He feels a special connection to this girl and feels like he needs to protect her.

He’s never felt like that ever before. Sure, he’s felt responsible to protect Paris and the civilians from the akuma that Hawkmoth creates, but he’s never felt like he had to protect someone at all costs.

But his dream self knows for a fact that he needs to protect her at all costs. For some reason.

While fighting the akuma, he blurts out random things. Things he can’t remember. While In real life he would never take any blows while he fights the akuma, in the dreams, he takes all the blows to make sure this girl doesn’t get hit, because he knows she can’t be hit. He is expendable, she isn’t. Which doesn’t make total sense, but also makes the most sense in the world.

He knows that some people would take that as a sign of weakness, but it makes him stronger. Able to take stronger blows, and block even stronger ones. Because if he isn’t there to make sure she isn’t distracted from doing what she needs to do, then all of Paris will perish.

This girl would tell him when to use his Cataclysm. It was almost always used, just the way that she had instructed him. Which was weird, because he never used his Cataclysm unless he absolutely had to to end a fight. Sometimes he would catch her shout “Lucky Charm” as she throws up her yo-yo. Seconds later a red and black polka dotted item falls into her hand, looking to her for instructions he would wait patiently, protecting her as she comes up with a plan. Then when he is instructed, he distracts the akuma, or cataclysms something to aid in the fight.

When they break the akumatized item, this girl somehow opens her yo-yo, and throws it out to the corrupted butterfly, that flits out of the broken item. He watches as the yo-yo captures it, and a few seconds later, a pure white butterfly flies away.

She then throws the item they used in the battle into the air, and millions upon millions of magical insects’ swarm them, and the city. Fixing everything that had been broken during the fight. Healing bruises, restoring breathe, fixing Cataclysmed things, and fixing the broken akumatized item.

They fist bump and say something that he can never make out for some reason.

Sometimes he would have other dreams, where he would be out patrolling the city, but not all of it like he usually does. He just patrols part of it.

Sometimes he would patrol with that mysterious girl, laughing with her, making her laugh, as they jump around the city. He would sometimes catch her calling him “Kitty” and he would internally brighten, because he loved that name for some reason.

Sometimes he would call her “Milady”

Suddenly, the picture of the girl by his side come to the forefront of his mind, he called her “Milady.” The girl he thought was his girlfriend. If he called this blur of a girl “Milady”, then that means that she would be that girl. Who is possibly his girlfriend? Yes, now his actions make sense. She must be his girlfriend... right?

Right...?

At the end of every dream, when the girl flies away, he can’t help but think, who is she? Why is she so familiar? Why can’t I remember her and Dang is she amazing! All the while, feeling nothing but a longing to be with her.

In his latest dream, he is talking to her while on patrol. He says something, and she laughs, making his day so much brighter. She opens her mouth to say something, but all that comes out is a surprisingly loud gasp

And he is suddenly falling away from her and that world, that seems all too familiar, into a more familiar world.

--------

Marinette jumps back as she hears Tikki gasp, letting out a small gasp of her own, turning to Tikki. She’s floating just a few inches away from Plagg, looking at one of her antenna.

Heart rate slowing down, she turns back to Adrien, he seems to be settling down from jerking awake from a dream, as his eyes are half lidded, and let’s out a small groan of pain. His eyes look unfocused.

His head flops to the side, looking right through her to Tikki and Plagg. Tikki had resettled down next to Plagg But was now looking back to Adrien.

“I’m so sorry, how are you feeling Chat Noir?” Tikki asks, grabbing hold of Plagg and slowly floating over to Adrien.

She watches as Adrien’s eyes snap open, Tikki seemingly having been able to wake him up fully.

“Wh- “Adrien can’t complete his question when he coughs, but he powers through it. “Who- Who are you?” he says his voice a bit rougher than normal.

“I’m Tikki,” Tikki explains “I’m the kwami that belongs to the Ladybug miraculous.”

His eyes widen again, and his pupil seem to take up his entire iris,

“Ah.” Adrien says in understanding. “Where is the miraculous? Do you have a holder?”

“No,” Tikki says looking down, “I just woke up, no miraculous, no holder, about a week ago.”

“Oh...” Adrien tries to sit up, only to flop back down wincing in pain.

“So, how are you feeling Chat Noir?” Tikki repeats the question.

Adrien seems to realize that he didn’t answer her question earlier, and he flushes just a bit from embarrassment.

“Please, call me Adrien,” Adrien says politely, “I could use some pain killer, and some water, please?”

Of course, he’s still his perfect, polite, kind self, even when he’s startled, or embarrassed. Or recovering from a likely concussion

“Yes, of course” Tikki says, placing Plagg down on Adrien’s chest “I’ll be right back!” Tikki heads for the door to the bathroom.

“Though I’m not sure how long it will take” Tikki pauses by the door, waiting for his response.

“That’s ok,” Adrien murmurs, as he cups a hand around Plagg’s back and pulls him closer. He smiles softly as Plagg purrs softly due to the sudden warmth.

--------

Marinette is silent as she takes in the view of Plagg purring while Adrien is cuddling him.

“THAT IS SOOO CCCUUUUUTTTTEEEE!!!!!!!!” Marinette squeals at the sight, as her hands fly to cup her cheeks, then to suddenly fly to her mouth. “I am so glad that no one can hear me.” Comes her muffled voice.

#ml #My Writing #The Forgotten AU #TF

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aviationfiction · 7 years

Text

XXI

Autumn Dupont

“I can’t wait for you to get here so you can try on your gown. Autumn, it’s so freaking gorgeous. The pale toned pink is perfect and you know you have that sun kissed skin with that super weird yet intriguing mystical glow to it that every woman on earth would kill for, so that’s certainly going to bring it to another level.”

My body turned to yet another angle as I did my best to get a good look at my tightly drawn back ponytail. While listening to Heather pour out her vexation, thrill, and anxiety about her wedding over the past thirty minutes, I’d been working with a curling iron, a flat iron, and my overthinking mind as I did my best to get it to the look of perfection that I envisioned. Initially, I worked loose curls into the ends to create a nice bounce to it but I wasn’t a fan of the look about five minutes later so that resulted in me flat ironing every single strand until they were straighten and cascading down my back. After having checked the weather, there was no way possible that I’d risk wearing my hair loose and allowing it to join the hundred and four degree weather in torturing my body. Supposedly, today’s a cool day and if those numbers represent what’s supposed to be cool, then I don’t want to be here when the temperature reaches absurd numbers.

“You heard me?”

“Yes, I did. First, I don’t know what glow you’re speaking of. I don’t see it and I’m looking at myself in the mirror as we speak. Second, I truly hope the dress fits my body properly and that it’s your final choice. I’m not allowing you to take me through the strain of last minute changes, Bridezilla.”

I dug both hands into my cosmetic bag to find my recent goto NARS lip gloss and nearly emptied out all of it’s contents onto the counter top. I contemplated doing somewhat of a full face of make up and the thought of looking like melted clay ceased my efforts. Instead, I applied a tinted moisturizer to my face, filled in my brows, applied just a bit of mascara for depth to my slightly sleep eyes, and now my last step is the lip gloss, if I didn’t forget the pack it. I’ve done my best to be as naked as possible without being indecent and yet I still feel like I’m overdressed for the heat that I’m about to endure. These acid washed cut off shorts are nearly short enough to be considered a pair of denim panties and the pure white crop tank top I’d chosen to wear with them left more than enough of my belly exposed and yet I could already sense how much sweat I’d be covered in within minutes. I just about clicked my heels when I noticed that there was an indoor pool and that’s where I planned to spend at least a nice portion of my day but one phone call tossed that out of the window.

“You ready Peaches?” I swiftly turned my head in the direction of the bathroom’s entrance and narrowed my eyes at Dante as he poked his head inside and took a look at me. Unlike usual, our eyes didn’t meet. Instead he took the time to exam every single article of clothing that I chose for his planned outing and he slowly trailed his intense brown eyes up until they were staring at my set of green. Instinctively, my feet took a step back from the counter and I slightly twisted my body to stretch away the tingling running along my spine and dancing within the depths of my abdomen. He arrived nearly three hours ago after having changed out of his business attire and freshened up for the afternoon and he fell into a slumber on the couch of my two bedroom suite while watching The Brothers. I assured him that while he napped, I’d began to get ready for whatever he planned but that transitioned into a bit of a white lie as I plopped down on the love seat and shamefully leered at him while he slept. The sight of his chest peacefully heaving up and down and the low breaths that escaped his soft lips entranced my mind and left me in a state of stillness. My heart swelled at the sight of every deep sleep grimace he’d make and I craved to be just a small part of whatever dream had his mind occupied. While his thickened eyebrows served as a clear source of his masculinity, the slightly curled set of eyelashes and his supple blushed lips softened his face to create the unbelievably perfect mesh of handsome and beautiful all at once.

Andreas is beautiful. I often thought of his appearance as unrealistic and had no issue deeming the man to be the one with all of the beauty within our marriage. Though it left my stomach churning from time to time, I expected women to gawk at him without any regard for my presence and it was of no surprise to me that my husband was often the one being lusted over before any of the players for the Miami Heat or for any NBA team, period. Though he’d do his best to take a nonchalant approach to it, he knew and he often joked about it whenever he felt compelled to irritate me for having irked his nerves at the wrong time or for the self pleasure of teasing me about an unspoken insecurity. Either way, his beauty has always been at the forefront of us and I grew accustomed to it. In no way am I comparing the two but there’s something about Dante that is so refreshing within that aspect. It’s not just his humble obliviousness and detachment from his attractiveness, but also his cultivated masculinity and imperfections that serve as the stepping stone for why he embodies what it means to be a man.

“Who is that?” As Heather questioned the foreign voice she heard in the background, I gave Dante a thumbs up and a playful side eye for the nickname he decided to give me yesterday and has refuse to let up on. With a nod of his head, he turned away to leave me to the wrap up what I had left to do.

“You heard me?” My hand finally set on the lip gloss I’d been searching for and I quickly opened up the tube and applied a coat to my top and bottom lip.

“That was Dante.” I had no reason to lie to her and there was nothing that I could make up off of the top of my head that would make much sense. She knows what I currently do for a living, she knows who my boss is because I told her, and she knows damn well there’s no man that I’d be bringing along with me for work related trips. Though I tend to avoid to the topic, she’s been curious about the dynamic between the two of us ever since we randomly decided to hang out in his nightclub after having a cost less dinner upstairs in his restaurant. The visual of the two of us speaking at the bar wrote a narrative for both Heather and Rachel that they refuse to let go of. Both women seem to believe they know my body language and reactions to men better than I do.

“He’s currently in your hotel room? Well, that makes things more interesting. Then again, it’s been that way. Your Instagram page currently looks like a traveler’s guide and I know for a fact that you’re not doing all of those outings alone. You can be somewhat of a loner when you want to be, but I’m not stupid.”

“I’ve never said that you’re stupid. We hang out. It’s been a couple of months and I can admit that a friendship has formed, so we hang out. It’s purely platonic; friendly. The friendship we have is no different from any other friendship I have. Granted your my best friend, so I’d say he’s a good friend. That’s fair enough.” I placed the lip gloss into the front pocket of my backpack along with my Apple charger and wallet. I left the inside empty for bottles of water.

We passed by a VANS store yesterday at Fredrick’s request while Dante was taking care of business and I couldn’t help but to fall in love with a sepia colored polka dot backpack that I saw hanging up on the wall. I asked for it without a second thought and a salesmen wouldn’t be doing his job without showing me something that would perfectly go along with the bag and mine did so when he paired the bag with a pair of the “Old Skool” classic skate shoes. The match made in heaven wasn’t one that I could turn down and was certainly worth the money, but my debit card never paid for the hundred and eight buck total. Fredrick physically and mentally blocked me from the counter as he uttered Dante’s request to look after me and make sure I was taken care of until he returned. What I took as a joke to laugh at was far more serious than it should have been for both of his best friends as we walked through The Fashion Show Mall. Though I didn’t necessarily want anything else, it didn’t stop them from offering me to choose something of my liking whenever we entered stores of their choice. Ice cream and lunch at Ruth Chris was on Mike. Today, I’m putting Fredrick’s gifts to use.

“You’re comparing our friendship with the one you have with him?”

“No. You’re my best friend. There’s no comparison to make.”

“I also don’t have a dick.”

“I’m aware of that. Also, his genitalia has absolutely nothing to do with me nor is it on my mind.” Well, at least not while I’m awake so, that’s not dishonesty on my end. After our eventful night at his golden nightclub and the time we spent reclined in the leather seats of his Aston Martin, the short nap I took was even shorter than it was supposed to be as I forced myself to end it. I needed the fantasy of Dante being buried between my thighs while I thrust my body to and from his in the front seat of his car to cease. That dream was the pioneer for the dream I had throughout last night that ruined my chances of an attempt to sleep in today. I’d like to think that I’m simply reliving my teenage years once more; or maybe it’s those early twenties that I missed out on. Fantasies are just that; moments when you absentmindedly muster up outrageous thoughts about something or someone out of your reach. I cannot recall any real celebrity or even average civilian crushes that I’ve had some years back and as a married woman the last thing I was thinking about was other men, though I wanted to out of spite. I’m going to deem these absolutely out of line visions of my boss and myself as a bit of that with an added dose of immaturity on my end. I suppose that’s what happens when you either encounter or fan girl over someone that’s out of your league and unattainable.

“Are you sure about that? It never crossed your mind when he was damn near pressed against your body that night?”

“No, it didn’t. Why would it? I told you that he and I have a friendship. It’s a fairly new friendship.”

“You say that like it’s a foreign concept for a man and a woman to start off as friends before taking it to the next level. Do you know how long that’s been happening? Not everyone meets someone and immediately either works towards or just jumps into a relationship. Friendship is often the stepping stone.”

“Yeah, well that isn’t the case between he and I. There’s nothing going on. I know you poke fun at me for being this extremely secretive person but I’m not hiding anything here. We’re just cool.”

“What do you like about him?”

“I don’t like him.” A huffed slipped past my lips and I pulled both straps of the backpack over my shoulders and slightly adjusted it so it’d be aligned perfectly with my back. While spinning in the mirror, I chuckled as I thought about Dante telling me I looked fifteen years old two days ago. I could admit that this look made me look no more than the age of a high school senior. It’s the ponytail and hoop earrings doing it more than anything.

“Why are you being so defensive? I’m asking that in general. You have to like something about him in order to consider him a friend of yours.”

“He’s just a good guy. He’s personable, kind, and a great listener. He gives good advice and is encouraging. He’s cultured and willing to teach without being an arrogant know it all. He’s funny in his own little way. He’s fun. He’s very humble and I respect that so much. He’s someone who knows so much; damn near everything and yet he doesn’t allow that to control who he is, how he carries himself, and what he represents. I respect that.”

“That’s a lot of description for someone that you’re only friendly with.”

“If someone were to ask me about you, I’d hope that you’d believe that I could give them a detailed and accurate description of how I feel about you and what you represent as a woman, because if not, then we have some issues.”

“Oh please. Don’t give me that bullshit. We’ve been friends since you and I were kids. So yeah, I’d expect that. You’ve been knowing this man for a couple of months through work and from what you just said to me, I’d think he’s been in your life for a couple of years. You’re going to tip toe but whatever. Say you do like him and you’re interested in something more; what’s the problem with that?”

“There’s a lot of of problems with that and it’s not the case.”

“What’s the problem?” If I had the time or the actual will to do so, I’d run down the pages upon pages of issues that would go into he and I being anything beyond what we already are. We’ve already crossed a couple of boundaries that are too far behind us to ever backtrack but there is no doubt that we’re going to be right here, at this point, throughout the duration of us working together because that’s the way it needs to be. I’m not even sure how long I’m going to be working as a corporate flight attendant. Though I enjoy the traveling and being able to see the world without having to spend a dime out of my pocket on flights, hotels, or food due to the company and the perks of having a company credit card, it’s time consuming and there’s a cap on how far I can excel. I can’t allow a favor for my brother to turn into my entire life and I certainly cannot allow a favor to turn into a nightmare for him. He’d have a conniption if he found out about just a small amount of what Dante and I have been doing with our work and personal time since being introduced to one another by him. It’s no secret that our relationship has a significant amount of damage and our story has some tattered pages but my God, I’d toss the most potent gasoline on the blaze that is his disappointment if he knew or if this goes any further than it needs to due to my foolishness and hopeless romantic being. Yet again, I’m teetering on the edge of destroying my relationship with my family and possibly pursuing a man that’s too far out of my league and would all but leave me shattered by the way of my own doings.

“Heather, I just got a divorce. The ink on that shit hasn’t even dried yet. As I look at my left hand, I can still somewhat see the print from my engagement ring and eternity band still on my ring finger. Take a step back and imagine how that would look. I’d be jumping from one relationship to another without any regard. Shit, it’d look like I was doing so while still very much so in the marriage. Situations like that need time to subside and it needs to make sense. I also need that sigma on me to die down some, you know? The whole someone’s ex-wife and sloppy seconds thing. He filled for the divorce. I’m the woman who was left for another; the cultural woman with the worldly job position by the way. I don’t have the greatest image right now. In addition to that, I’m not his type.”

Silence fell between the two of us as I leaned against the counter top and grimaced at the thought of what I just explained. I’ve seen far more than enough online, heard it on the radio from some of the most known radio personalities, and I’ve seen the brutal comments on social media. If it’s not about the decision I’ve made in walking away with nothing of his, it’s my idiocy for allowing another woman to come in and ruined what I built. Then there’s the viewpoint about my lack of a backbone or the women who have been digging as much as they can to find some type of scandal within my background or by my doing within our marriage so they can alleviate Andreas of any blame. As far as men, I’ve read plenty of “show me a beautiful woman, and I’ll show you a man who’s tired of fucking her” comments. Aside from that, no one wants me to shed the identity of being Andreas’ ex-wife. I’ve been offered a couple of book deals to tell all of our dirty laundry for some millions and the possibility of being on the New York Times Best Seller list. Shaunie O’Neal offered me to join Evelyn Lozada, Jennifer Williams, Tami Roman, and a few other ladies on Basketball Wives as a new cast member and if I made my very first season juicy enough to draw in high ratings, she assured me that I’d have a spin off show by the next season. I’ve been sent e-mails from multiple well known publicists to be hired for representation, and I’ve been offered interviews with countless media platforms. Rather than declining, I’ve never responded to most. There’s no need to. If I wanted to live off of the man, I could be twenty million dollars wealthier right now. I would have rather done that than to make a living off of my heartbreak by the way of scandalous exposure.

“What the fuck are you talking about right now?” The disgust in her tone was evident and it also served as the marker for me to end our call before the conversation turned into an argument that neither one of us need right now or anytime soon.

“Heather, I’m holding everyone up. I’ll call you tonight.”

“You know, that’s why I hate him. Don’t get me wrong, I can’t stand that high yellow, weasel faced, son of a bitch for hurting you, but I hate his ass for being the biggest part of altering the way you view yourself. I wish you were on my end of this conversation and could have heard that bullshit that you just spewed to me as the absolute truth about yourself. It scares me that you actually believe that and it makes me wonder if that counseling shit is working out. Your image? Jumping around? I’m at a lost for words because I don’t know what to say to you without losing my damn mind. You don’t owe him shit. Fuck the ink. I wouldn’t give a shit if it’s being smudged on the pages as we speak. You are a woman who is free to do whatever the fuck you want to do. I—you know what, I’ll let you go. We’ll talk later. Enjoy your day with your quote on quote friend.”

We didn’t bid one another our usual parting words of love. The double beep signifying her end to our call was as cold as she purposefully intended it to be and I could do nothing more than stick my phone down in the back pocket of my shorts and head out of the bathroom. Heather’s had more issues than I can count with me over these past six years and I’d just have to take today’s conversation and toss it into the pile of unresolved conflicts I’m going to have to mend at some point.

“I’m ready. Are you? You finished that movie?” I found Dante in my suite’s living room, laying across the couch, looking at what I know for sure is the final scene of the movie. He looked pleased, just as I had expected him to. The Brothers is a film that carters to both genders, though he swore it’d be a chick flick filled with drama and romance. Though it does contain those aspects, it’s also contains enough macho masculinity and comedy for a man to enjoy.

“There’s the credits.” He pointed at the screen and stood to his feet. He too, was dressed with the means to stay as cool possible. He donned himself in terry cotton deep grey Nike shorts with the all too familiar logo largely printed on the side of the left leg in white, a plain white t-shirt, and a black and royal blue pair of Michael Jordan’s first signature shoe. Though my eyes can barely tear away from him when he’s covered in the finest of materials gathered to create his designer suits, I certainly struggle to refrain from fawning over the days when he’s causal or laid back in appearance. There’s something about it that not only suits him but it also temporarily eliminates some of the intimidation in his serious demeanor. Right now, I don’t feel like I’m in front of a multimillionaire business man who has the world at his disposal. Instead, I’m in the presence of a handsome yet simple man with a kind heart and intuitive and often poetic mind.

“Did you enjoy it? Which brother do you relate to?”

“It was a good movie. As far as which one I relate to? None of them. One has commitment issues and then it went way left when he found out the chick he took an interest in had a previous relationship with his father. Then there’s his parents rekindling their relationship. Awkward shit. I don’t know my father’s dealings but I hope to never run into a woman he’s dealt with. What’s the other guy’s name? Brian. That’s it. He went through it with one black woman and swore off all of them. That’s quite silly, even though her sending him to jail was ridiculous. The Derrick guy and the sex issues, well I found that more comedic than anything, except for the mother part though I can’t relate. I’d never want my mother living with me.”

“You wouldn’t allow your sick mother to live with you?”

“Sick mother? Hm. I guess I’d allow that. She’s my mother after all.”

“And you wouldn’t consider leaving your wife if she wasn’t pleasuring you in the manner that you’d want her to?”

“No.” He shook his head to match the statement he made and I quickly side eyed him because I will never believe his or any man’s response to that if they tell me no. I firmly believe that apart of the reason why Andreas went after Amber is because of our unstable bedroom life. I came into his life untouched by any man and I worked at trying to figure out what he needed in order to keep him pleased. I’d mentally immersed myself into so much, it became less and less about my own pleasure and mostly about what lingerie, trick, or position I should try to maximize the pleasure for him. Some were better than others, tons were far more painful than I thought they’d be, and there were those that filled my frame with embarrassment because the execution wasn’t quite right. As the traveling increased, loneliness engulfed me and our connection dwindled. Whenever he did come home, I’d try my best attempts at spontaneity. I’d wait for him naked in our bedroom, only for him to flop down on the couch and not even acknowledge my presence. In the mornings, I’d remove my bed attire and creep into the shower only for him to turn around, kiss me, and tell me he had to go or he’d be late. I still cringe at the times when I’d drop to my knees and literally request to envelope his flesh into my mouth. Those requests were approved occasionally and I’m assured that it was for my own satisfaction more than it was his. I’d like to think Amber was already spreading her thighs and opening up her mouth for my ex-husband at that point; it’s either that or he just no longer wanted me.

“You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not. Why would I consider leaving my wife over something that we can work on? That’s not betrayal or the breaking of some part of the vows. It’s sex. Sex is a learning experience. You teach and you learn; both husband and wife or whatever relationship dynamic you have with said person.”

“And what if your wife never learns?”

“It’s not possible.”

“How so?” I quickly crossed my arm over my chest. I didn’t intend to be combative but there is no way possible that I’m wrong in this instance. I’ve heard and read about more that enough relationships or marriages going through the wringer because of sex and sex alone.

“It’s just not possible; at least not in my opinion. There’s so much to explore and try out. If one thing doesn’t work out, try something else. If you’re in love and you truly value that person and what they bring into your life, then you’re going to figure it out.”

“Well, I guess I’m going to have to agree to disagree. What you’re saying is easy to say because you’ve never had to deal with it. We all say all kinds of shit when we’re on the outside looking in. So no, I don’t believe you because in this instance you’re inexperienced and unaware.”

“Inexperience and being supposedly unaware has absolutely nothing to do with who I am as a man. I’m only getting married one time. That, I know for sure. So we’re going to have to figure it out until the wheels fall off. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yeah, okay. If we’re still friends around the time that you get married, we’ll come back to this.” I lead the way to the door and he chuckled while cooly trailing behind me. A part of me wanted to keep drilling his head until he understood where I was coming from and could stop being such an optimist but I let it go because I cannot speak for him or his future experiences.

“Nah. We can come back to this conversation sooner than that and why did you say if? You plan on going somewhere?” I nearly stopped in my tracks at the question. Am I going somewhere? They say people are in your life for a reason or for a season and though I have so many reasons for why I enjoy him and value what he’s brought to my life thus far, I do and can question if this is all just something temporary for the both of us that will be nothing more than a blur in his future and a memory within mine. The changes that will happen within our lives are inevitable and it’d be hard to imagine the two of us and whatever we call ourselves building between one another outlasting it. I’m sure it can happen but would it? Is that realistic?

“No. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Neither am I. So there’s no need to say if.”

“Okay fine, we’ll talk about it sooner, later, and at the wedding too.” The door closed behind the two of us as we walked down the long hallway and he continued to trail behind me until we were waiting for the elevator.

“Not at the wedding. The conversation will be pointless, because by then, you’ll already see it my way.”

“You sure about that?”

“Positive, Peaches.”

“And you’re going to stop calling me that.” I quickly pointed my finger in his direction as the double doors drew themselves apart and we stepped on, taking positions on opposites and he pressed the button for the lobby. While leaning my body against the stainless steel wall, it’s coolness did absolutely nothing to distract my attention from the sight directly across from me. His stance was nearly identical to mine; only he had his hands stuffed down into the pockets of his shorts. I did my best to refrain from being obnoxious or embarrassing as I continued to take in all six feet and four inches of him, but I didn’t have the strength to fight it. Any woman standing in my position would be doing the same in hopes of even a glance from him. The level of small I feel in such a grand presence is unbelievable and yet I’m drawn to every aspect of him; mentally and physically, though I’ve never had him. I cannot get the feeling of my body pressed against his as I moved my hips along to every infectious beat and vulgar lyrics while in the club. That is the result of my eyes panning down to his shorts to get even the slightest sight of what I felt pressing against my derrière. I remember the exact moment I felt what would eventually invade my thoughts and dreams, salivate my mouth, and moisten the most sacred part of me. Hours ago, I interrupted the best sleep I’d gotten in quite some time to end the vision of my nude body sprawled on his office desk as he—

“Peaches.”

“Huh?” I quickly returned my attention to his face and watched as he pointed at the lobby. As he stepped aside, I quickly exited the elevator and turned the corner to find an awaiting Mike and Fredrick. I didn’t know they were downstairs waiting for us and had Dante mentioned it, I probably would have tried to ready myself a bit quicker and would have certainly ended that call with Heather much sooner.

“It took y'all long enough.”

“Should have stayed upstairs instead of rushing your impatient and anxious ass down here to wait.” Dante purposefully yet playfully pushed Fredrick out of the way and he approached Mike who held an expression on his face that was far more serious than I’d ever seen on him. He’s usually comedic, cool mannered, and making statements that are either slick or slyly amusing all for the sake of entertaining himself and embarrassing those around him.

“Let me talk to you for a minute.” Dante’s ever confident frame tensed at the question and he quickly nodded his head as the two stepped away from both Fredrick and I. They were in clear view and if I were curious enough about what they were speaking about, I could have heard it well enough, but I’d been distracted by the sight coming in through the revolving doors to be concerned.

Though Vegas is known for bachelor or bachelorette weekends and shotgun weddings, I’ve never heard of people actually making the decision to have their traditional and sometimes extremely lavish wedding ceremonies and receptions in Vegas. I’d noticed an unusual amount of human traffic once we stepped off of the elevator but I didn’t connect the dots to a wedding. Now all of the tuxedos and whimsical dresses make sense. The last to waltz into the lobby was the beaming couple, who could do nothing more than fawn over and smoother one another in affectionate and celebratory kisses to celebrate their union. Their smiles were infectious not only because those amongst them were smiling just as big, but also because I mustered up a small smile of my own. Instead of her maid of honor, mother, or sister, it was the groom holding up the back of her mermaid style of gown. My attention focused on her more than anyone else, and the gleam in her eyes is exactly what a bride is supposed to have on one of the most special days that she’ll have in her life. She’s walking along side her life partner; the man who just vowed himself, his loyalty, and all of his dedication to her. I wonder if people warned her that though today may be beautiful, there’s a possibility of storms to come and destroy all that they’ve shared and built together to arrive to this point. I wonder if she knows that he may change or one day may wake up and not look at her the same way. Does she know not to lose herself into that shit? Will he cherish her? When he’s not perfect, will he apologize? Some days I think I’ve had closure and there are the occasional ones when I crave an apology from Andreas. An explanation would take me through the hell of it again, but I’d deal with that for those two words that often mark a resolved ending. I’d like to think I’m worth that; even if he doesn’t feel like he did anything wrong.

“Autumn.”

“Yes?” I turned to look at Fredrick whose facial expression held concern. I’d been zoned out to the point of staring at nothing. The wedding party vanished behind the doors of the hotel’s ballroom.

“Lets go to the little convenience store and get some snacks for the trip while they have that conversation.” He didn’t bother to wait for an answer as he threw an arm over my shoulder and lead me to the right.

“Trip? Where are we going?” Honestly, I figured we were going to gamble or take a visit to that gangster museum that Mike raved about on the way here. I don’t know much about Vegas other than gambling and nightlife and based upon the brochures I’ve read since being here, that truly is the highlight of what happens out here. I expect to be highly impressed when we head out on the scene sometime tonight.

“The Grand Canyon. Dante’s idea.”

“Oh! That sounds cool. Thank God I brought my camera. That’s a great outing for nice pictures.”

“It is. Mike and I haven’t been out there so we figured why not just do it together, even though it’s hot as fuck outside.”

My backpack served as the junk bag while Fredrick fit as many bottles of assorted beverages as he could into his own. You’d think we were kids the way we zipped around the store like the roadrunner racking up tons and tons of chips, cookies, cakes, and candy. Our teeth are sure to be semi rotten while I stomachs painfully ache if we should decided to consume all of it but we preferred to have options to suit everyone’s tastes. Dante rented a bright white Jeep Wrangler Unlimited for our trip and Fredrick volunteered to be our designated driver to both destinations. He and Mike occupied the front, while Dante and I sat on opposites sides in the backseat. I don’t know how I was able to figure it out, but he much like myself, was pleasantly surprised when I handed him a bag of Oreo minis and strawberry milk. I remembered the milk from a flight and the cookies were a lucky guess. It was my way of breaking the ice as he sat there staring out of the window swallowed by his thoughts. Whatever Fredrick told him couldn’t have been good news because the tension remained within his frame and exuded in my direction though he didn’t intend it. If we were alone, I’m sure we’d speak about it and hopefully there is a point throughout this day that we do. I’m no Dr. Jill. I don’t have all of the right answers, but I’d like to serve as an outlet to release his pent up emotions whenever he needs to. That’s what a friend is for.

“Are you okay?” My hand rested on top of his own and he swiftly flipped his hand so it’d lock around mine.

“Yeah, I’m just mentally analyzing a few things and solving others. I apologize for the silence.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I understand.”

“Fredrick told you where we’re going?” I quickly nodded my head and chuckled as he leaned in to began a session of whispering so the all too nosey duo in the front wouldn’t find a way to pick on him.

“Yeah. I told him that I’m glad I packed my camera so that I’ll be able to take some great shots at both places. Oh and your iPhone too. How the hell do we have the same phone and yet yours takes better pictures?” We shared a laugh over my question and he unlocked his phone so he could point out the simplistic answer; editing apps. I don’t have any on my phone other than one which is for creating collages or squeezing a few photos into one particular frame. I use the Instagram filters and call it a damn day.

“There are some great free ones but the best ones are the ones you have to pay for. I read a couple of articles and bought the apps with the best reviews and I just play around with the apps and edit the photos until they’re the quality that I want.”

“I’m going to have to copy off of you. Put those on my phone. Not all, but like the best three? I think that should do the trick.” I scooted closer so we’d be directly next to one another and I handed over my phone so that he’d handle the task.

“Your photos don’t need any editing though.” To mask the blush that was fighting its way through, I chuckled at the statement and quickly shook my head. He was serious and that within itself caused my head to drop down so I was staring into my lap and I finally allowed that blush to conquer the lower half of my face.

“Oh shit. That was a good one.”

Dante’s eyes widened at Mike’s intrusive comment and he immediately frowned at his best friend who twisted his body just enough to be able to see into the backseat. Fredrick’s loud laughter made it no better and I couldn’t help but to join him as Dante’s face filled with a faint hue of crimson to signify his embarrassment. He simply stared at Mike’s hand when he extended it for a dap and he rolled his eyes at the devious smirk on his face.

“I’m just messing with you brother. Aye, since we’re on the West Coast, Pac or Snoop for the road trip soundtrack?”

“Snoop.”

Dante and I said the name in unison and Mike turned his attention to his iPhone. As he connected to his Bluetooth, Dante typed and tapped away on my iPhone to began my journey to being a mobile editing master. Rather than going directly to one of Snoops legendary albums, Mike opted for a playlist. As the the sounds of “Snoop Dogg” blared from the speakers inside of the sporty truck, our heads nodded along to the infectious beat. While we relaxed against the cool backseats, our eyes met. The blaring music became faint as his intense gaze grasped my entire being and I could feel my lips slightly falling agape at the sight. He never once flinched. His search or rather hunt for something that goes beyond my outer surface became apparent as his body slightly leaned into mine. I welcomed him. He blinked once; setting off an array of chills from the base of my skull down to the very nerve endings of my spine and my nerves grasped the best of me as I tensely ran my fingers through my hair. He’d taken that as an invitation to take a few strands in-between his fingers and he loosely curled the strands around them.

“You’re stunning Autumn.”

“You too.”

It slipped and I wanted to kick myself for it. It flew from my lips a millisecond after my name beautifully eased from his. The truth; a truth that I’ve noticed since I mistakenly fell into his arms. He’s stunning internally beyond what most could ever imagine and it shines through to further enhance his external.

He granted me a small smile while allowing my hair to fall back into place. He didn’t readjust himself back into the position he was once in. He remained close, with his shoulder leaning into mine, while he browsed through the App Store. As his scent engulfed me, my body further sank down into the seat as I mentally unraveled.

God help me.

Our destination wasn’t the four hour drive that I was expecting. Our forty five minute ride didn’t even allow us to get to the end of the Very Best of Snoop Dog playlist as we arrived at GC Flight, a Las Vegas and Grand Canyon tour company specializing in helicopter, airplanes, and motor coaches to and from the Arizona landmark. I should have known better than to think we were going to spend the majority of the day going to and from Arizona in a truck even though it wouldn’t have been absolutely fun and hilarious to have done so with Mike and all of his playfulness. To save us the lengthy trip, we’d be heading out in a top of the line helicopter.

“I take it you’ve never been in a helicopter before?” Dante chuckled as I hesitantly walked through the terminal. He was nearly pulling me along by the way of my elbow. I asked just about every question possible while the actual owner of the company ran down all of the rules and guidelines to our trip. He described it as no different than a flight but I beg to differ; smaller aircraft and far less likability to live it we should crash.

“I haven’t. Don’t even say that there’s a first time for everything because I don’t believe in that shit.” His laughter wasn’t as infectious as it usually is. I couldn’t muster up even a chuckle as my eyes locked on the neon red helicopter we’d be sitting inside of within a minute or so.

“It’s going to be fine. I’d never put you in harms way.” He squeezed my arm. “Helicopters are cool as shit. You fly low enough to be able to see sights. You can’t do that while on a plane. Besides, this ride is only forty five minutes. That beats a four hour drive. You’re going to love it.”

The fifty milligrams of Zoloft I swallowed down this morning did nothing to calm my nerves as the three amigos cheerily encouraged me to hop onboard. Though there were six forward facing passenger seats with more than enough room for us to sit and lounge apart, Dante took a seat next to me while Fredrick and Mike planted themselves directly behind it. I was locked into my seatbelt, wearing headgear, as well as a headset before all of them. Fredrick suggested I chew gum and I immediately took him up on the offer. While Dante held both of my hands, Mike’s were grasping my shoulders and gently massaging them in hopes to ease my mind as we listened to the pilot’s safety briefing. His usage of the words danger, risk, threat, and accident just about worsened my fears. Him mentioning all of them with a smile on his face felt like I was sitting in front of the grim reaper.

“Trust me. I’ll never let anything happen to you. Besides, if Mike’s here, then you know we’re alright. That man’s scared of everything. He’s a pussy.”

“Aye, fuck you you longed face bitch.”

His response sparked the laughter I needed to calm just a few of the bad nerves tormenting me but overall, it was his immense hands squeezing mine that served at the soother during take off. They were nearly as soft as mine, with just a bit of roughness that had to be the result of his basketball playing and the feeling of them enclosed around my own set quickly became one that I didn’t want to rid myself of.

“The sights are great already. Look.”

From the oversized windows, we could already see an aerial view of the infamous Las Vegas strip. Had it been nighttime, we would have been able to be dazzled by the endless amount of lights, but the visual was still incredible nonetheless. Our pilot served as a tour guide and along the route he pointed out the mighty Hoover Dam and it’s power plant turbines. My Mr. Wikipedia served as the historian who explained it’s original name, Great Depression construction, the impounding of Lake Mead, and lastly the states in which the dam generators provides power for. I’d taken out my camera to get as many shots of it as possible and continued to capture shots as we moved over Lake Mead, Fortification Hill, the Colorado River, and the Mike O’Callaghan-Pat Tillman Memorial Bridge.

Upon our arrival to the canyon, the pilot flew around it so we’d be able to take in every single aspect of it from above and then we descended just about four thousand feet below it’s rim and landed at a private site in the heart of the Hualapai Indian territory. We were supposed to pop open a complimentary bottle of champagne to celebrate but instead we chose to hike around. Though weather conditions were absolutely arid, there was a warm and yet soothing rusty and gusty wind faintly sweeping through to make our journey a tad bit easier.

For the simple minded, we were observing far too much dirt and rocks purposelessly sitting in the middle of nowhere, but as I took it all in, I couldn’t help but to be in awe of nature’s artwork. The carvings, sandstone flanks, and rusted deep slopes covered by olive shaded trees all served as the means to beautify such a rugged location. As we walked, I lightly ran my fingers over the barren red rocks and the green leaves springing out of the jagged walls. The canyon served as yet another reminder of how beautiful the earth is despite such ugliness from arguably it’s greatest enemy; us human beings.

“This is beautiful; pointless but beautiful. How long has this been here?” Mike voice his opinion loud enough for the three of us to hear and I quickly turned to look at Dante because he typically always has the fun facts about whatever location we visit. I don’t expect him to fail us today.

“Eh. Studies have said maybe five to six million years. For thousands of those years Indians occupied this area. They built their own settlements within the canyon and it’s caves. Some even considered this to be a holy site and would make pilgrimages here.”

“Dante’s the only person who paid attention in his history courses.”

Mike raided my backpack while cracking jokes about his friend and within seconds the three friends were trailing ahead of me. I used the time to put my camera to use and instead of taking photographs of the sights surrounding me, I focused the lens on their chemistry. Had I never met any of them and was just observing, I’d easily be able to notice how extensive of a history they have and how much of a tight knit bond they cherish within their brotherhood. The loud outburst of laughter, the way they completely grant one another attention no matter who is speaking, without interruption, is admirable. Mike is even granted a respectable silence for his jokes. Fredrick often drapes his arm over Dante’s shoulder and it’s no different at this very moment. Given his hostility with his family, it’s relieving to see him have an extended one in those two as well as Stacey. They not only keep him grounded and humble but also contributes to his overall contentment.

“Autumn, stop being paparazzi and catch up!” The flicker was louder than I thought it was.

“Lets hike up there.” I pointed at a peak not too far away that would take a bit of trek up and Mike immediately shook his head.

“Nah. I’m already near death. You go up there and we’ll be right here waiting.”

“Come on. I’ll go. Fred, wait here with lazy.” Dante gripped my shoulder as I quickly took off my backpack and left it with the two just in case they wanted snacks and also so I’d have less weight on me going up. Throughout the climb, he used his long and lean legs to walk ahead but our hands being laced gave me the advantage of being pulled up by his strength. He showed no sign of exhaustion once we were exactly where I wanted to be; unlike myself. The heat already had a headache arising in the most sensitive parts of my head. I’m a faux runner but I’m no athlete. Dante runs and is moving around this place like he’s a Usain Bolt and Lebron James hybrid.

“This is perfect for photos.”

“Drink some water.” He twisted the cap off of my water bottle himself and I swallowed down what became warm water within a half an hour of us being out here. It didn’t do much to cool me off but I suppose it quenched my light thirst.

“What made you think of here as a place to come? Because it’s close to Vegas?”

He stepped aside as I lifted the Nikon camera up and aligned the viewfinder with my left eye. An eagle was my target and I captured his essence as it soared through the air with precision like the majestic beast that it is often portrayed as. The sun beamed down on his pearly white head; as he nearly blended in with the white clouds as he continued to weave in between them.

“It’s peaceful out here; hot as hell but peaceful.”

“So you’ve been here before.”

“Yes.” As the eagle passed, I focused on the clouds. I’ve never seen them so clear….so clarified. As the fainting sun cast it’s rays down upon them, it created the perfect hue of scarlet. The setting sun is always my belief of heaven touching earth for less than an hour out the day.

“Why did you need peace? What’s on your mind?”

“Home. I spoke with my sister-in-law this morning and she’s beginning the process for in vitro fertilization again and Matthew’s giving her a hard time. He needs to give a few more samples and he’s putting off the process and she called crying to me to convince him to do so. She doesn’t ask for much. She’s not a difficult wife and she puts up with that man’s shit though she doesn’t need to. She should have divorced him a long time ago as far as I’m concerned but I can’t make that decision for her. She continues to stand by him despite his shit. Now she wants a baby. That’s all she wants and it’s a whatever type of situation to him.” Oh I know that feeling. I know it well. Andreas and I had the baby conversation a number of times and each time he’d do his best to explain to me how we weren’t ready for parenthood without ever giving me a solid excuse for why. Honestly, I wanted a child to fill the void that he left with me. At least I wouldn’t be alone. In the beginning, I imagined us as a beautiful family, living a traditional life, and being something like those from the famous family oriented television shows. The more he shut the idea down, the less I thought it and I eventually let it go. Now I can’t even picture myself as a mother or the point in my life when I’ll be in the best place possible to be one.

“That’s tough. There are women out there who don’t want to have children and that’s absolutely fine, but for those who do, that’s one of the most important goals in their lives. It’s special, fulfilling, and full circle, honestly. It’s the greatest gift two people can ever receive so the pain that she’s feeling is intense.”

“I know. I could barely make out what she was saying through those tears. I want that for Camille because she doesn’t ask for much but Matthew would rather shower her in materialistic shit and go about his business. Talking to that man is like me standing out here and talking to the ground. Nothing gets through to him until he’s in some shit and it barely gets through then. He’s bullheaded. Always has been.”

“Sounds like Isaac.”

“No. Your brother’s no Matthew.”

“He’s not too far off. Believe me. Despite his success, he got his shit together not too long ago. This clean cut, focused, and reserved Isaac is a reformed version of himself.” As I turned my body to face Dante, the sight of him standing there gazing out at the scenery was far more beautiful than anything I’d capture since our helicopter ride over here. The way the remaining streaks of sunlight cast down upon him while the garnish of pinks and oranges reflected on his vanilla glimmering skin was enough to leave me breathless. He overpowered nature’s beauty and stood amongst it like a sovereign; the most alluring and selfless kind. A one of one; him and him only.

“Well I applaud him for getting it together. Matthew’s too arrogant for that. The best way to resolve an issue within your life, no matter what it is, is to understand and admit that there is an issue. The man carries himself like he’s God’s gift to mankind and he gets it from Richard. They’re one in the same.”

“Sometimes people have to hit rock bottom in order for a change to spark within their lives. That may be your brother’s fate. You can’t change him nor can she. At best, you can encourage Camille to live her life and do what’s best for herself. If sticking by him is that, well, you have to allow her to do that. She loves him but I hope she loves herself more.”

“I agree with you.” The sound of the shutter caused him to glance in my direction and he chuckled as I quickly snapped a shot of his face.

“What else is on your mind?”

“Right now?” Though I switched my position so I’d be standing behind him, he turned to face me. “Nothing but this moment.”

“Not what had you quiet in the car?” He reached for my camera and I quickly pulled it out of his reach. “You’re always taking the pictures. It’s my turn.”

“That’s already resolved. It’s not on my mind anymore.” He reached once again. “You’ve taken enough. You officially have more photos of me than my mother does. I promise you.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“For her it is.” He gave up and instead reached for his iPhone. “Stay just like that. Don’t move.”

Had it been anyone else, I would have defiantly moved or dodged the camera but for him I froze exactly the way he requested me to do so and he capture me in the manner that he wanted. ‘A little to the left, slightly to the right, turn just a bit, look away, sit down, and look at me.’ I did all of it for him without protest as I basked in the beauty of him and our surroundings. The bombardment of colors casting across the skyline were beyond what Picasso or Vincent van Gogh could create. The man standing here with me? Only by God’s hands. There’s no denying I’m standing in the midst of his eminence.

“What’s on your mind?”

“What’s next for me.” That’s been on my mind more than anything else these days, which isn’t surprising. That’s where my mind should have been a long time ago but I held out hope for a resolution within the impossible. Now I’m left to figure it out alone. I’m no longer within those teen years where everyone’s tossing guidance and advice my way while happily standing on the sidelines to encourage me to keep going while I figure myself out. Sure I have a bit of it here and there, but I’ve reached the age where my focus needs to be solid. It’s going to take quite a bit of building myself up but the struggle to get there is to be expected and I deserve it. I’ve began to skimming through online applications for a couple of universities and I’ve reached out to NYU and UCLA for my transcripts. I need a few recommendations and I’m dreading trying to figure out who to ask and the accelerated programs that I’ve been checking out are strenuous. Harvard is the only Ivy League school that offers students who have completed at least two years of college to complete their degree through an assortment of online classes and approximately four three or seven week courses or active weekend courses on the university’s campus. The thought of applying there feels like I’m shooting myself in the head each time. I’ve checked out NYU and even Rutgers New Brunswick though I don’t want my mother involved. All of it is one big ball of confusion that I cannot continue to avoid no matter how much I try to.

“Do you know what’s next?”

“I’m slowly but surely figuring it out.” Suddenly his body was along side mine and he peered down at me in understanding. “That’s a start right?”

“Of course it is. That’s more than a start. I’d like to believe you already know what you want. You’re just analyzing the path that you need to take to get there.”

“Yeah. The adjustments as well. I suppose school is first.”

“Do you know where you want to go?”

“Uh. I’ve been checking out some schools.” He snickered at my hesitance to name them.

“Which schools? I wouldn’t be a Columbia Lion if I didn’t pitch to you how great of a school it is. You should check it out. I think you’d be a good fit there. You like New York City and you’d still be close to home. You can probably get an apartment in Manhattan so your commute won’t be extra hard. You were the Valedictorian at your high school and were on the Dean’s List both years you were in college. You’re getting in.” My eyes widened as he listed off those facts and I quickly glanced up at him in confusion. I never told him that.

“Who told you that?”

“Isaac.” He laughed out loud at my facial expression and widened his already huge eyes. “What? You think I did a background check on you or something? How else would I have known? He mentioned that while speaking to me about your permanent position.”

“Oh really? Says Mr. Accepted Into Every Ivy League School St. James.”

“Who told you that?”

“Google.” It was my turn to laugh but I wasn’t alone while doing so. He joined in. I didn’t search through page after page in hopes of pulling up every bit of information I could find on him. He was honored inside of the Harvard Business Review magazine and they had an extensive biography on him which included that information.

“Well as I said, you can get into any school that you want to get into. Just apply. Don��t doubt yourself. You have no reason to whatsoever.”

“What if that causes me to have to walk away from working with you?”

Silence fell between us as we continued to observe the sky’s retreating pigments as they battled the beginnings of the nighttime’s midnight blue pushing it’s way through the surface. The visual seemingly signified the question I’d asked him. A dark cloud loomed over my thoughts as I imagined having to walk away from what has been the source of my peace for the past couple of months.

“Walking away from the job doesn’t mean that you’re walking away from me. Right?” Our eyes met one another and he wrapped an arm around my shoulders to draw my body closer. His eyes held an anxiousness for a response and I wrapped my arm around his back until my hand met his side. My soft squeezing sparked his infectious smile.

“Right.”

“Alright then. So we’ll be fine. Besides, Columbia’s right there. We’ll be practically neighbors. We’ll see one another everyday.”

“Who says I’m going to Columbia?” I quickly sucked my teeth as he laughed ridiculously loudly and he playfully shrugged his shoulders at my question.

“All I’m saying is, I’m only writing a recommendation letter for Columbia.”

My jaw dropped at his stubbornness and he wrapped my body into the biggest bear hug as he continued to laugh at what I know for a fact he’s serious about. Columbia slipped out of my thoughts as I became a drunken woman by the way of his intoxicating scent. The warmth of his body engulfed me and I submitted myself to his world for however long he intended to keep me in his arms.

“We have to go back. I’m sure they’re tired of waiting.”

“They’re not standing out there. They walked away while we were walking up here. We’re fine.”

His head rested on top of mine while my head rested in the nape of his neck as we stood there welcoming the stars.

Tom Ford.

I’d chosen the handsome American designer’s designs for my attire this evening. The short black and long sleeved embellished dress and the matching thigh high open toe boots were amongst the final gifts I received from Shane. Though I was still married, he continued to encourage me to get out there and live my life instead of choosing to sulk in my empty home. During his visits, he’d become my bad influence of a life coach and we’d have “Siblings Gone Wild” weekends in the best hole in the wall clubs around Miami. My brother was too indie and eclectic to be partying inside of establishments on Collins Avenue or Eleventh Street. Given his ability to network and have friends all over the place, he was able to find these spots and he’d drag me out of the house in the sexiest attire he could coerce me into and we’d be partying until the wee hours of the morning and then would find a spot to eat the greasiest pizza ever before making our way back to my house and crashing in the living room. The Tom Ford pieces were shipped to my home while he was out in Paris enjoying himself and at the bottom of a note card covered in messages of love in French, he told me to tuck it into the back of my closet and be ready to wear it the next time we were together. He sent it to uplift my spirits. He never made it to Miami, because I met him in New York. I never wore it while out with him because he was dead within two days of my arrival. Tonight, I choose to wear it in honor of him and what he constantly encouraged me to do; live my life. He’d be applauding me with the most exaggerated compliments and showering me with endless hugs if he were here. If he wasn’t encouraging me to shine, he’d always push for me to soar. Given the embellishment of my chosen attire for the evening, I’d say I’m in for a night of shining courtesy of him. I hope I make him proud and that tonight’s festivities turn out to be as great as a night out with him would be.

The final touch to complete everything was the result of me starring at myself in the mirror for nearly ten minutes. While covered in black from my darkened hair down to the boots covering a portion of my thigh all the way down to my feet, I couldn’t decide if I should go with a nude lip or a bold red lip. Nude would tone everything down a bit and work with the natural glow I had going on once I completed my make up and the red would be a fiery pop of color needed for a statement. After looking between the two once more, I coated my lips with the red. It’s perfect for Vegas nightlife.

We’re in the lobby. Don’t rush. Just letting you know.

After opening Dante’s text message, I tossed my phone into the clutch bag I wish I didn’t have to carry this evening and I exited the bathroom for the final time. Though I was assured that I didn’t need to bring anything other than myself, I still double checked to make sure I had cash, my debit and credit cards, and most of all, the room keys. I can’t count how many times Heather and I have locked ourselves out of our hotel rooms and had to do the tipsy or sometimes drunken walk of shame down to the lobby for assistance. I don’t want that to have to be my fate tonight. It’s funny with Heather, but it won’t be as hilarious in front of the three gentlemen I’d be hanging out with tonight. Well, Mike would find it funny because he tends to find the funny in everything.

“Good to go.” I said it out loud to stop stalling myself and I finally made my exit while resisting one last visit to the mirror to make sure I wasn’t over or underdone. God knows I’m no where near perfect but I’d at least like to look presentable the majority of the time. That’s a rule by my mother and it’s been passed down by the women in her family from generation to generation. These past two years, I’ve certainly disregarded that and allowed my illness and depression to be the reason for my lack of care for my external appearance. I didn’t feel beautiful so there was no need to attempt to look it. Hell, I still don’t necessarily feel beautiful but I do feel like I’m regaining a lot of my sense of self and that’s a start. Besides that, there are boxes and boxes worth of unworn clothing that I need to put to use. I’d be damned if I just let it sit in the basement collecting dust because it’s a reminder of my time in Miami. Though a lot of it is a few years old; some recent; nothing in fashion is dated as far as I’m concerned. I’ll make every single piece work in some type of way.

The wait for the elevator was no more than a minute, though I expected to wait longer because of the traffic in and out of this place. Once it’s doors opened, I stepped on and was met with the eyes of a man most likely within his early thirties standing on the opposite side of it. Luckily for me, there were a set of buttons on my side as well as and I didn’t have to step into his personal space to press the button for the lobby. While resting against the wall, I did my best to avoid the eye contact that he so badly attempted to get by adjusting his eager position not once but twice, in such an audacious manner. My stomach churned at the sense of his eyes trailing over every aspect of me; undressing and eye fucking me while foolishly covered in a Miami Heat jersey. That’s what made it ironic but mostly ridiculous.

“I’ve seen you before.”

“Have you?” I gazed at the small screen signifying each floor we were surpassing as we descended to the lobby. It baffled me that no one had cause it to stop on a specific floor just yet.

“Yeah. I’m sure I have. I never forget when I see women as beautiful as yourself. You’re married to a Miami Heat player. I’ve seen you. I go to Miami all the time and I’m a big fan of the team.” I knew the NBA Summer League was in town. I’d seen a couple of signs upon arrival, there was a flier amongst the brochures inside of my suite, and Andreas would always fly out here for a day or two to check out the rookies in action before the season. I didn’t think much of it because I truly don’t care and something within me is telling me that he’s not in Vegas anyway. He has a pregnant fiancée to tend to and the summer league isn’t apart of his contract.

Up until now, I haven’t been approached, or awkwardly called out about who they know or believe I am until now. There’s only been a few stares here and there but I’ve grown accustomed to that. That’s been apart of my fate since I sealed it in Los Angeles.

“I’m not married.” My shoulders shrugged as I told him the truth and silence momentarily flushed out the conversation as he did his best to analyze my response.

“You’re not married to one of the players?”

“No.”

“I’ve seen you. I swear I have. I think I even remember what you had on. Game six against the Spurs. You were court side wearing pink.” My lips slightly fell apart at his vivid memory of my bright magenta Gucci attire. I attended all seven games that series; even the ones in San Antonio. Though we were fighting like hell, I still traveled with Andreas and showed up to the American Airlines Arena at home to support he and the team. The Heat won the championship in a ninety five to eighty eight victory over the Spurs. By then, I was far more happy to see Lebron and Bosh get their second rings and Wade his third, over my husband winning his second straight. What I remember most about that championship is being left to look on as the families of those players rushed to the court to shower their Heat heroes with love and praise and a congratulatory job well done. They were covered in confetti while excitedly putting on championship gear over their clothing while I was left off on the sideline to look on. I never got a chance to kiss him in the manner that the other wives kissed their husbands. He immersed himself into the celebration without ever looking for me and I was granted the coldest kiss on the cheek as he sprinted past with his team to head into the locker room to further their celebration by being doused in champagne. Not even the Spurs and their mopey demeanor could identify with what I felt as I left that arena alone that night.

“Mhm. I was there. I was a fan of the team.”

“Was?”

“Mhm.”

“Well what team do you enjoy now?”

“None of them.”

I mentally thanked the man above for his sudden blessing as the two doors slid apart and the pressure within chest ceased. My feet were moving at the same quickened pace of my mind as I quickly exited the elevator and turned the corner. I didn’t expect to be followed by the man but I also didn’t want to move slowly enough for him to further his investigation. A quick Google search would have given him all of the answers he was looking for and I would have been forced to be rude or to put forth my best effort at ignoring the hell out of him. His determination was alarming. I’ve never had anyone ask me that many questions about my ex-husband and our marriage within six years we were together. I’d been offered to appear on multiple platforms throughout our time together and I turned down every single opportunity because I didn’t want the fame nor did I want to leave a bad taste in his mouth. Now that has doubled along with the price tag and I’m still not interested. The less I hear or say about him, the better. Amber can enjoy it.

My eyes landed on the three men I’d been searching for were and they were idly standing amongst one another and sharing a laugh while glancing at whatever was happening outside of the entry doors. Dante was the only one out of the three semi dressed up. Because of the blistering Vegas heat, he opted for white attire from head to toe. The chambray fabric of his button down shirt rested against the build of his upper body beautifully and the the pants were the perfect match. On his feet happened to be one of my favorite pair of casual sneakers to see on a man; the “Torino” model by Buttero. I’d gotten Isaac two pairs for Christmas and though he critiqued them early on, he appreciates them now. You can easily dress them up or dress them down and they work in such a stylish manner. Given how well dressed Dante is, it’s not surprising to see him giving them a go. What I enjoy most about his style is the lack of contrived attempts. No matter what he has on, he always oozes a confidence that allows one to think that he doesn’t belong in anything else within that moment. Right now, this is arguably the best I’ve seen him and I’ve yet to see him look anything other than on point. My lip had been pulled in-between my teeth since I set my sight on him and I’d finally been caught in Mike’s peripheral. The smirk on his face was all too knowing.

“She arrives.”

Our eyes didn’t meet in the way I craved for them to. Instead I was left to watch him gulp down nothing but air as he took in the moment; our moment. His intense glare trailed over every single aspect of my frame; while I bashfully shrunk and mentally melted under the ferocity. His mouth fell agape while a hint of air escaped and exhaled past his lush pink lips and into the atmosphere. If looks could kill, I would have killed over no less than three times. A part of me desired to throw a trench coat over all of it, run upstairs, and start all over and the other half figured that I might as well go through with it.

“Sheesh Autumn! You didn’t have to kill it like that. Damn.” Fredrick’s eyes widened as Dante peeled his eyes away from me and glanced in his direction. The blank expression on his face was all too amusing because it’s clear that the man can’t stand obnoxiousness from anyone and though the comment was towards me, it still irritated him.

“Right Fred. Who are you wearing that for?”

Mike’s smirk grew even bigger and he purposefully and foolishly wiggled his eyebrows to pester me.

“Myself.”

“That’s it?”

“Of course. It’s for me. If anyone else should enjoy it, that’s a bonus right?”

“Looks enjoyable for sure.” Dante elbowed Fredrick in his side for yet another shameless comment or rather compliment and he boldly laughed while slapping Dante on his back. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was saying all of those things to purposefully irritate him.

“Shall we gentlemen?” My arm extended to point ahead.

I walked behind all three of them as we made our exit and instead of driving, we were separated. Dante and I were in the back of a chauffeured Mercedes Benz alone to my surprise. Fredrick and Mike were in back of the SUV in front of us.

“Why didn’t we just go together?”

“Just in case we leave at separate times. Fredrick is usually the last person to leave the club out of the three of us. That’s his environment. He’s not in them as much because he’s in a relationship and I sort of think he’s outgrowing the habit but there are times when he likes to purposefully be a stubborn ass; especially when people point out that he’s changing. I’m not sure why. He found love, which is a great thing. He most likely hates the idea of people tying his change strictly to her but I don’t do that. He’s just growing up. It’s about damn time.”

“Sometimes guys fear losing themselves in the process of committing to person. He’ll get over that. She’s clearly a great woman if he’s making adjustments in his life to suit himself and her in the process.”

“She is. I like her.” He nodded his head to go along with his statement while fidgeting with his fingers as his hands rested in his lap. I’d been staring out of the window since making myself comfortable in the backseat and I’d probably be doing so until our very short ride to Omnia comes to an end. I figured if I focused on Vegas’ luminous lighting and only gave him eye contact when he spoke, I’d save myself the distress of refraining from glancing over his entire being repeatedly. I’d done it more than enough for the evening and would most likely be absentmindedly doing so while we lost ourselves into the hectic flow of the nightclub.

“Autumn.”

“Yeah?”

“You look…” Nice. He’s going to tell me I look nice and I’m going to combust into a fit of nonsensical blushing. “Incredibly sexy tonight. Seriously.”

The skin is the largest organ apart of the human body and every inch of mine viciously tingled in response to his dauntless compliment. My heart beat erratically in my chest while my stomach filled with an onslaught of flutters and tightening beyond my control. I couldn’t find my voice and my lightly blush covered cheeks flushed with warmth. As his potent eyes met mine, I could feel my heart beating in my throat. My body transitioned from an exhilarating rush of emotions to a state of numbness because he’d snatched every part of me with just four words.

“Thank you. You too.” His raspy and gruff voice erupted into a light laughter and it ended with a smirk that weakened my knees though I was sitting. He ruined my comfort. Now I wanted to do nothing more than sprint from the car and walk the rest of the way.

“You’re too polite. You don’t have to pay someone a compliment just because they’ve given you one.”

“But it was a compliment and the truth. The white against your skin is just right.” I refused to look into his eyes again while being so close in proximity of him. I’d no longer be responsible for my actions as the spell of his enchantment moved me to attempt just a few seconds of what I now spend my nights dreaming of. I am caught in his web and he doesn’t even know it nor should he know it. This isn’t supposed to be happening. I’ve crossed all of the boundaries between the two of us while my mind, body, and soul is urging me to push forward and step over the forbidden threshold of the final few that are left. His patience and understanding from our very first encounter with one another engulfed all of me and left him indented on my mind. I’m foolish so it’s of no surprise to me that this is happening on my end but it’s absolutely mind boggling that I’m yet again tampering with my growth in the eyes of my family and friends by walking on the edge of disappointment again. The man is out of my league much like Andreas was and I’m starting to believe I’m drawn to that type of shit. I desire what I cannot and should not have; I enjoy the chase. I’m fairly knew to the crushing concept. Only one other man has gotten me to that point and I only briefly dated him and ended up vowing my life to him. I’ll be damned if I do that again; literally.

“Thank you.”

We wallowed in the intensity of our commentary and thoughts until the sedan came to a halt outside of the nightclub. I didn’t bother waiting for the driver to open the door to make my exit. I’d opened the door and exited the car at the same exact time as he did. I needed the fresh air to calm my stomach so the contents I’d consumed at SW Steakhouse for dinner wouldn’t come flying out of my mouth.

We skipped the line as I expected given the clout all three of them have no matter wherever they are. I was guided inside of the nightclub with Dante’s left hand firmly pressed to the small of my back and we were guided to an upper level VIP area away from the congested dance floor and never-ending traffic heading to and from the strobe light covered bar. They never requested anything by mouth; well at least not from what I noticed. We’d only been sitting for five minutes and bottles of top quality champagne, vodka, cognac, and mixers were being carried over to the table. I’d lost count of how many varieties there were and was even more confused when out everything left for our disposal, Dante and Mike chose Hennessy. At no point has he switched it up and I didn’t know Mike enjoyed it just as much. Fredrick’s a vodka man. As far as myself? I’m a whatever has a fruity flavor type of drinker. I chose to babysit a glass of Ciroc coconut with pineapple juiced mixed in it.

I couldn’t make out the dance floor. People were dancing to the sounds Calvin Harris was spinning from wall to wall. I could barely see him though his booth was raised up high enough for a clear view of him. The lightening stimulated my eyes like a rave; slowing down the movements of all the bodies while flashing each twist, turn, fist pump, and grind repeatedly. The techno and house music wasn’t my flavor for the evening but the alcohol urged me to bop my head and shimmy in my seat while meshed into Dante’s side while he observed the scene. With every sip of his drink, I knew he was taking mental notes for the sake of his client and his own plans for expansion. He’d do that for a few minutes and then he’d fairly return his attention to me by either smiling or squeezing my side. Eventually, we were standing and glancing over the balcony to observe the first floor and I gained the attention of all three of them as well shared playful commentary and laughter about the drunken offbeat dancing and sexual hooks happening. I’d never seen so many strangers randomly making out with one another in my life; not even during those two years of college.

“You enjoying yourself?” His warm breath swarmed my ear while his sultry tone invaded it and I nodded my head before gulping down the amazing drink Mike slid in my direction. He called it a “Zombie” or something along those lines. It’s apricot, orange juice, and rum mixture was superior to the Ciroc I was enjoying a while ago.

“I am. I always have fun with you. Who knew that the quiet business man could be so outgoing?”

“I have fun with those I enjoy having fun with. So you get a bit of credit there as well.”

“You give me too much credit.”

“I don’t think I give you enough, honestly.” He’d done it again. Instead of the goosebumps and stomach flutters, he heightened the warmth the vodka and rum filled my body with and my nipples stiffened against the embellished material covering parts of me.

“There’s nothing more to credit me for.”

“Is that what you think? Well, you’re wrong.”

As he closed the inch of space between our bodies, I took a step back and bumped into a half-drunk Mike who was rocking back and forth to Justin Timberlake’s “Rock Your Body”. He’d taken my mistake as a request to dance and he swiftly wrapped his left arm around my shoulders and swayed the both of us back and forth.

“Let’s go Autumn!” Dante awaited my next move. It was either him or Mike within that moment and I chose the man who’d leave me in one piece. I turned around in his embrace and threw my arm across his shoulder and rocked to the early two thousands hit. Him knowing all of the lyrics to the song and singing it with such a drunken slur made it so much more comedic. The laughter subsided the lust. The dancing filtered out the tension.

We were five songs into a random Timberlake set and we’d gone from trying to imitate Justin to shimmying our shoulders to “Like I Love You”. There was no way I wasn’t dancing to that one. It brought me back to the nights when Heather and I would be running around getting ready to take the campus and the outskirts of Los Angeles by a storm throughout the weekends. Justin was a heavy part of our playlists. We went to see the FutureSex/LoveShow in Madison Square Garden together in two thousand and six.

At the end of the song, I turned around to find Dante and the warmth within my body chilled at the sight of him speaking with a woman I hadn’t seen since we’d been at the nightclub. His back was to me so I couldn’t read much within his facial expressions or body language but hers said it all. The gleam in her bright blue eyes and the way she toyed with her platinum blonde hair while nodding her head to whatever he was saying to her ignited a feeling within my body that was all too familiar over the past couple of years of my life. I tensed while my lips tightened and no matter how much I wanted to shake it off, I couldn’t. I had no right and yet I couldn’t win the ridiculous battle against the unspoken resentment I chose to inflict upon him for doing what any single man has the right to do.

“She’s business.”

“What?” It wasn’t Mike in my ear. It was Fredrick, who’d been extremely mellow throughout the night. Dante’s right when he talks about him outgrowing places like this. If anything, he’s going to be the first person to go.

“She’s business. She’s one of the co-owners of this place. They’ve been trying to get Dante to buy into Omnia for a while now but he’s not interested so at this point, they just want to partner with A&M for representation and he’s not interested in that either. He’s not checking for her like that. Actually, he’s not checking for her at all.”

“It doesn’t matter if he is or if he isn’t.”

“I think it does. Why else would you be staring over there with so much tension radiating from your body? Dante only wants one woman in this room and it’s damn sure not her. I don’t think you need me to help you figure out who that woman is.”

My hand gripped the glassed filled the “Zombie” and I gulped down the majority of it.

“Alcohol doesn’t decrease your desires. It enhances them.” His sly chuckle as he stepped back nearly made me want to toss the rest of the contents inside of the glass on the floor. To say I felt exposed would have been an understatement. I couldn’t stand to look at the smug expression on his face any longer so I wandered off to find the bathroom so I could get some of the alcohol off of my bladder.

I spent ten minutes in the bathroom and another five standing downstairs in an attempt to clear my mind and straighten out my thoughts. In moments like this, I’d be texting Heather so she could either say some imbecilic advice or a joke to get me going but I know if I texted her right now, she’d only lash out at me for denying the truth she was attempting to provide me with earlier and she’d hang up. In addition to that, I’d be waking her up and she hates when she’s woken up; especially if it’s not for an emergency so I’ll refrain from doing that until tomorrow. She’d tell me to put my big girl thongs on and handle my shit anyway.

My eyes could barely remain focused on the sights in front of me as I crept up the steps. Each huff from my mouth allowed my nose to understand just how much alcohol I’d consumed and my slightly dazed expression told the story. I saw myself in the bathroom’s mirror while other women in my predicament either complimented or lusted over my attire. While standing and observing the flooded dance floor, two different guys flirted with me within that five minute time frame and I felt absolutely nothing. It was by far the most annoying interaction I’d encountered throughout the night and it was because of them that I decided to come back upstairs in the first place. Now as the man in my dreams comes into view, I wish I’d stayed. Why the hell couldn’t I enjoy the flirting or set my eyes on some attractive man out on the dance floor so I could know that what I’m feeling is nothing more than suppressed teenage antics.

“Where were you?”

“Bathroom.”

“All this time?” He placed his hand on my shoulder and narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah and I was looking out on the dance floor for the hell of it. Now, here I am.”

“You ready to go?”

“Yes.”

I was hoping he’d say that. All I want to do is return to my suite, strip out of everything, sit in the shower for two hours, and sleep the alcohol off. Actually no, I don’t want to go to sleep. I want the shower, the comfortable robe, a order of wings from the twenty four hour room service and a black and white film. I’ll take a nap later or I’ll sleep when I’m in Miami for the week for Heather’s bachelorette party, wedding rehearsals, rehearsal dinner, and the actual wedding. He’ll be in New York and I’ll be far too busy to be consumed with thoughts of him all damn day and salacious dreams of him all damn night.

“Okay. Let’s go back to the hotel.”

We left without bidding the other part of our group goodbyes. He’d already told them we were going to leave before even knowing if I’d say yes or not. Our ride back to the hotel was filled with him questioning if I was okay. He’s immune to Hennessy. I’m sure of it. While walking into the lobby his stance never faltered. His gigantic eyes remained their normal size. The mint in his mouth didn’t even mesh with the cognac. It over powered it. How the hell is he like that? He’s an enigma; some type of paradox. I’m being tested and I’ve been tested enough. Give me a break!

“The doors won’t close if you continue standing in-between them. Come here.” I stood in-between the doors of the elevator because I contemplated catching the second one so I could get away from him sooner. Now that his arm is around my waist and drawing me inside, I should have. I should have taken the stairs. Walking up like fifty floors would have been better. Fifty? Wait, where is my room?

“You enjoyed yourself tonight?”

“You have a high tolerance for alcohol.”

“I only had two glasses. I wasn’t in a drinking mood.”

I could no longer hear whatever he was saying to me as I looked into his eyes. Self-control and my sense of self evaporated while faint tremors and an aching desire overwhelmed me. I needed to know what it’d feel like. I want to know if it’s as magical as it seems within my dreams. The softness; the warmness. Just one time.

Just once.

I placed my hand to his smooth cheek and enclosed my lips around his own.

I’ve never felt more alive.

What trickled through the blinds wasn’t the morning sunlight. I can sleep through that. The peak of the early afternoon sun is what’s leaving my eyes and head in agony no matter how many pillows I cover my head with. As my mind began to trickle out the remaining images of my erotic dream, a large huff slipped past my lips as I soaked up the warmth of the covers and the plushness of the mattress. I inhaled to prepare for a few breathing exercises I tend to do when I’m trying to rid myself of a headache, and I nearly tossed the pillow across the room due to all too familiar scent that has absolutely nothing to do with my own. My eyes flew open and I quickly sat up and glanced around at the unfamiliar surroundings. The Air Jordans next to the chair on the opposite side of the room confirmed what I was praying wasn’t true was indeed the truth. In the chair were the Tom Ford boots I’d danced around Omnia in. My eyes nervously panned down and I noticed my dress was still on. The zipper was still up.

My hand flew up to my head as I did my best to recall last night’s festivities.

We went to the club. I know that. We hung out. We drank. I walked around I believe. Mike and I danced or maybe we didn’t. No, we did. We definitely did. What time did we leave?

As I swung my feet over and planted them on the floor, I glanced over at the nightstand and saw my clutch bag and a note on top of it.

Peaches,

We left out to check out two properties. You were sleeping so peacefully and you hardly ever sleep, so I wasn’t going to wake you. Don’t be mad at me. Order some room service, but don’t get anything too heavy. We’re going out for pizza when I get back; just you and I. There’s a great spot in the area. See you in a bit.

Dante and I left together. It was just us. We came back to the hotel. We were on the elevator. It was just us. Who pressed the button for the floors? Was it me? We were talking on the elevator. I kissed him and then…

I kissed him.

I ran my hand down my face as frustration filled my body. I kissed the man and I don’t even understand how I got to that point.

Did he kiss me back?

I dreamed about giving myself to him with him next to me?

I could scream.

Why am I always the aggressor? Why can’t I just wait for someone to be interested enough in me to approach me, flirt, ask me out on a date or two, and finally kiss me. Isn’t that how these things go? It happens for Heather that way. It happens for Rachel that way. It happened between my brother and Lauren that way. I’ve heard my parents love story more times than I’ve wanted to and it happened that way and here I am throwing myself at someone…again.

As I placed the note along side me, I grabbed my clutch bag, unzipped it and grabbed my phone. I had missed calls from both of my parents and Rachel. I didn’t bother returning any of those. Instead, I went to my call log and tapped the number I certainly needed to be calling. While fiddling with the note, I listened to three long form rings until there was a connection.

“Autumn, I’m literally walking to the conference room for a meeting as I speak. Can whatever this is wait? I’ll call you when I get out of there.”

“Isaac, I quit.”

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