8Chapter 1: Crashed Into You
I held onto the microphone like it was life support as they began the last song. Though we only performed in the one city and the surrounding area, we'd aquired a pretty big fan base. I watched Ulric play the first few notes of the song, his eyes shut in concentration, forehead beaded in sweat from the hot stage lights. He held the guitar like he would hold me, as gentle and possesive as a man could be. No wonder I was hopelessly in love with him.
It was a slow and melancholy tune about a doomed romance that we'd written together. Sort of like Romeo and Juliet, but wanting to change things before the lovers ended up like the said pair. I began the song, swaying and singing softly. I owned the crowd, lighters springing up to sway with me.
My eyes swept the mass that had managed to squeeze into the small club, and they were drawn to a man in the back. He was dressed rather normal, in a white buttoned shirt with a loose tie. But his eyes, bright orange rimmed in red, shined despite the dim light. They, also, were focused on me and I felt a chill run through me. I quickly looked away and focused on the song.
With a crash of symbols and one wailing guitar chord, the melody ended. A raucous applause rose from the floor. Ulric came up to me and I looped an arm around his shoulders as we bowed. Roses of every color were thrown at the stage, screaming of undying love for us. It was unreal. We may not have been nationally famous, but this city loved us enough that we felt like it sometimes.
"Thanks, guys! We love you!" I yelled into the microphone. More screams, whistles, applause.
We met with fans and signed a few arms and faces before the club emptied. Gathering our instruments and equipment, Ulric and Josh made plans to go to a nearby bar.
"You coming, Angel?" Josh asked, shoving the last box into the van.
I shook my head. "I think I'll pass. I'm not feeling too hot."
"Party pooper," Josh mumbled, going around the van to get into the driver's side.
"Want us to drop you off?" Ulric asked, taking my hand.
"No, I'll just walk," I said. "It's only a few blocks from here."
"I don't like that idea at all," Ulric said, worried.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him. "I'll be fine. You two go out and celebrate or whatever."
"Alright. I'll see you at home," he said, leaning down for one more kiss before he jumped into the van. I saw him run a hand through his short dark hair in undisquised worry, but then they pulled away and I was left alone on the street. Pulling my green bomber jacket closer around me, I started down the street. It was only about a block later that I wished I'd asked for a ride.
Maybe it was paranoia (no, not my band), but I began to feel like someone was watching me. I quickened my pace and all but ran the rest of the way to my apartment. I punched the button I don't know how many times before the elevator doors opened. I turned to look at the lobby to make sure no one was there and backed into the elevator. I bumped into someone behind me and freaked.
Spinning around, I found it to be the guy from the club with the fire eyes.
"Well, well. If it isn't Ms. Angelice Moreno of Paranoia," he said, with a voice that was as melting as his eyes.
"Yeah," I said, letting out a troubled laugh. "You scared the hell out of me."
"Sorry?" he offered, raising an eyebrow.
I quickly apologized. "No! Not you personally. I just got a little freaked out on the walk home."
"Then let it be my pleasure to buy you a soda to calm your nerves." He held out his arm.
"I think I'll just head upstairs," I said. "I'm still kind of shaken."
"Please. It's really no trouble," he insisted. "I'd be more than glad to buy New York's most popular performer a drink."
With words like that, how could I refuse? I looped my arm around his and allowed him to direct me to the vending machines. He let me pick a machine, ending up with me choosing Coke over Pepsi. I got a Mellow Yellow while he got a Coke. After a few sips, the sugar did seem to relieve my previous stress.
"Better?" he asked, taking a drink from his can.
"Much, thanks." I took another gulp and finished the contents, tossing the can into a recycling bin. "What'd you think of the show?"
He admitted that what drew him to the band was me (cue song "I'm Too Sexy"). However, after listening to our music, he left the club and newly made fan. He said he regretted not hopping onto our bandwagon sooner.
"Thanks," I said. A yawn escaped my lips and, looking at the clock on the wall, I saw that it was half past midnight.
"I'm sorry I've kept you. Allow me to walk you up to your apartment," he offered, laying an arm across my shoulders.
Another yawn as I said, "Great 'cause I don't think I could make it on my own." Why was I so sleepy all of a sudden? My usual bedtime was three in the morning.
He laughed at my forced attempts of standing up straight. I was so tired I wanted to fall over and sleep right there in the lobby. "Should I carry you?" he teased.
"No, I'm sure I-," but I was cut off as he scooped me into his arms. We were in the elevator when I'd finally managed to mumble, "I have a boyfriend."
"And?" was all he said, like it didn't matter.
My head was resting on his shoulder. I could feel his pulse, slow and almost missable, like that of a dying man's heart. I also couldn't help but notice how good he smelled. It was almost intoxicating and I caught myself pressing closer to him because of it.
"This isn't too much of an annoyance to you, is it?" I asked, sleep close to overcoming me now.
He smiled at me. "Never." I heard a familiar beep and the doors slid away to reveal two choices of direction. He went left before I'd even told him which way. He even found my door number, and somehow slid his hand into my pocket to get the keys without dropping me. I felt like a helpless child as he carried me inside and stood me on my feet. I would've fallen had he not wrapped around my waist to steady me.
My head felt light, and I didn't even care why he was lowering his face closer to mine. For me being only a little over five feet tall, this man towered over me at at least six and a half. He looked like he belonged in a shirtless jeans comercial than standing with me. His face and body were so perfect that no woman, no matter her morals or her situation, could resist him.
Which is probably why I didn't when he kissed me.
I felt his tongue in my mouth, his hands pulling my hips to his. All I could think to do was wind my fingers in his hair and pull him closer. His lips parted from mine as they moved lower, to my jaw and collarbon. And then, ignited by the pain of what felt like a bee sting, a wave of ecstasy washed over me.
My heart throbbed, my head filled with images of very arrousing acts between this man and myself. With a later guilty conscience, I gave no thought for Ulric, who was probably drinking himself stupid with Josh. But I didn't care at that moment. I just wanted my guest to keep doing whatever it was that he was doing to me.
After what felt like seconds, my body went numb and I blacked out, leaving myself at the mercy of this stranger.