Lightning.

1734 Words
"Where are we going?" I couldn't find a landmark that was even close to resembling my side of town. We had been driving for what felt like hours, to be walking for what felt like years to get to this elusive destination that my date wouldn't tell me about. Smiling back at me, gripping my hand as he steered us into a thronging crowd, he raised his voice, "You'll see once we're inside!" There were bodies everywhere, clad together, moving as one into the tight entrance of the dome in the middle of downtown. Frowning, I couldn't recall hearing about any big musician coming here this week. Normally I try to steer clear of the traffic if I can, and I definitely don't go diving into the crowds this recklessly. The summer heat was making everything sticky. From the way my black dress tugged my curves, to the clammy grip of my dates fingers, slipping through mine, try as he might, to keep hold of me. There were girls in bikini tops and shorts, boys in suits, couples in matching tees, and hundreds of women that looked like they had just left a cheering competition. Whatever we were doing, wherever we were, it drew the most bizarre group of people. Pulling me through the last cluster of obstacles, I stood slightly behind Dave, watching as he pulls two slick looking passes out of his jacket pocket, and waves them in front of the man at the box office. Turning back to me, he shouted over the noise, "Here, put this around your neck! You're never going to believe what we are about to do." I followed his instructions, confused and slightly excited as we were led past the major entrances and down a long dark hallway, down a flight of stairs to what I felt was to be the main stage of the arena. I fingered the pass in my hand, trying to make out what event we were VIP'ing. The lady leading us was in her 30s, blonde, and tall, with a severe look of professionalism etched into her eye lines. She opened a door, her edgy voice telling us we would be joined shortly. As soon as the door shut behind her, I turned to Dave, gawking at what I saw around us. This had to be the most lavish room I had ever stepped foot in. There was a champagne fountain, stacks of shrimp on red velvet tablecloths, padded chairs and leather couches around the room. The lighting was dark, and I didn't know if it was magic or if there was a smoke machine active nearby, but the room had this hazy feel that accentuated the overall grandeur. My mouth still slack, I teasingly pushed his shoulder, "What in the heck is going on??" I searched his face for clues, but he was keeping his lip buttoned, biting the bottom one hard to not let the secret out. "Is there a band here tonight? What group?" This room has no posters in it, no give ways of any help. Clawing at his arm, I begged, "Tell me!" "OK! OK, listen. My boss had these VIP passes that he was throwing away. They were in his trashcan, I see them, and pick them up, thinking he's made a mistake. I lay them on his desk, and he tells me I can have them if I want, because he wasn't wasting his time coming down to midtown like this. So... I brought us here for the fight of the century! We've got SIDELINE SEATS to see----" Right when he was about to tell me, the door busted open. A mix of photographers, men in matching track suits, and hooded figures walked in. The room, which was such a quiet mystery just moments before, was now buzzing with energy. The flashes from the cameras were going off every couple of seconds. There were people yelling questions, people shoving others out of the way to get closer to the center of the circle they had created. I linked onto Dave's arm, not sure exactly what to do in this situation. I blinked up at him, waiting for him to address the hubbub with some kind of reasonable plan of action, but his attention was solely glued to the man in the red cape, shadow punching on his tip toes. Tugging on his suit's arm, I reached up to his ear, "Is that who we're here to see?" Not sure if he can hear me above the pandemonium, I point in the direction of the hooded man. Dave's mouth claps shut, his eyes slowly refocusing in the light to turn his gaze to me. Distractedly, he confirms with a nod of his head. "I. Cannot. Believe. We. Are. This. Close. To. Liam. FREAKING. Kelly." A lightning bolt zipped from the sky, crashing realization through every fiber in my body. I swung my head to look at the red cape again, trying to find familiarity in the giant no more than twenty feet away. "It can't be," I hear the words fall out of my mouth like a whisper. Like a person possessed, I started to edge closer to the outside of his circle. If I could just catch a glimpse of his face, or look into his eyes... Dave, suddenly behind me, puts both hands on my shoulders, attempting to propel me back to our standing spot. "What are you doing??" he hissed into my ear. "We don't want to get thrown out!" Swatting his hands away, I moved in closer, snaking my way between photographers and journalists desperate for pre-fight words. Dave, unsure of himself, lets out a deep sigh before chasing after me. If this man is who I think he is... no. There's no way it's him. This dude was an impressive 6' 2", had to be close to 200 lbs. The Liam I knew... from 5 years ago... Like he could hear the thoughts tumbling around in my head, the fighter's head shot straight up, his eyes surveying the room. Light on his feet, his body moved to face the circle of which he was the center, the intensity of his gaze from under the hood mesmerizing. I watched him spinning slowly, his fists clad in his gloves at his sides, and somehow knew instinctively that he was looking for me. When his eyes reached mine, it was like watching the same lightning bolt come from the sky, and cross his face. In an instant, his jaw was slack, his body, so rock hard and rippling with muscles, was almost limp. His eyes were boring into me, peering with such curiosity. I could feel the draw of his body to mine, the weight of the knowledge of who I was, and who he'd become hanging over us like a cloud.  We stood silent as the flashes and the shouts continued around us, me drinking in the vision of him, his physique.  I watched his eyes travel my length, his lips parting as his eyes softened. I wanted to reach for him, to touch him to see if he was more than a ghost... but as quickly as the instant had come, it vanished. His head down, his dance continued, his arms staying warm with the quick movements up, left, and right. He moved forward, the throng moving with him, leaving Dave and I to stand alone and to the side once more. The air had left my lungs. I don't know when I had stopped breathing, but my hand came to my diaphragm, pushing to remind myself that I needed to intake oxygen. Dave came to stand in front of me, letting his hands rest on my upper arms. The comfort of his touch should have been the sensation running through me, but as soon as his skin made contact with mine, I felt a chill run down my spine.  He wasn't right.  He wasn't the one...  Still after all this time... "What was that?" Dave asked, his perplexed expression aided his tone of acute annoyance. "Do you know him? Was he actually looking at you?" He was bewildered, and I could feel where the train of his thoughts were heading. How would he know me?  The little no-nothing girl from nowhere? Shrugging out from his reach, I took a step towards the champagne fountain. If there was one thing I was going to need tonight, it was a drink. I downed the contents of one glass, only waiting long enough for my glass to fill to finish the second. "Dave, I don't think I can go out there." He balked at me, "What? What do you mean?" Understanding seem to don behind his eyes, and his head angled just enough so he could view me through the small slits of his eyelids. "You DO know him!" I braced myself against the table, palms down, my head hanging lifelessly between my shoulders. I truly never thought I would see him again. At least, not like this. Maybe somewhere far, far away, in the very distant future. We'd run into each other at the grocery store, and awkwardly make small talk about how much time had passed between us, and I'd be happy to know that he'd remained single that whole bit, just waiting for me to come to my senses and return to him. But this? THIS? Never this. I took a third glass from the fountain, the liquid doing nothing to whet my dry lips. Dave scooted next to me, gulping his own glass of champagne. Letting it settle, and then licking his lips, he shifted to place the glass back on the table, brushing his jackets arm against my elbow. "I think you should go out there." I shot him a look, horror gripping my soul. He smirked, slowly looking me up and down, "One thing's for sure: this is going to be one hell of a fight." A shiver ran down my back, arching my spine.  I had a feeling he was right. {Thanks for reading the intro to this new book!  I hope you love reading it as much as I love writing it.} {Comment on what you want to see, and It'll help this story become the best ever!} {Check out Don't Call Me Fat & The Nanny Affair} {--J.L. Smith}
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